1953/Don't Treat Me Bad

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Don't Treat Me Bad
Date of Scene: 12 August 2017
Location: NYU
Synopsis: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Winnifred Burkle and Agent Melinda May team up to investigate a rash of freak accidents and suicides targeting NYU athletes.
Cast of Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Winifred Burkle, Melinda May
Tinyplot: Blood on My Name
Tinyplot2: Tayaniye


Sam Winchester has posed:
August 12, 2025

7 PM

7th Car Diner, New York, New York

The 7th Car Diner is an honest-to-god rail-car diner that has sort of been plopped down in the middle of New York City. It looks out of place. It /feels/ out of place. But the classic diner fare is fantastic, breakfast is served 24/7, and it legitimately has the best pancakes in Hell's Kitchen. A jukebox in the corner plays Kickstart My Heart. And to celebrate the fact that Dean is out of medical care thanks to a little magical healing boost courtesy of an acquaintance of Sam's, well, it's pancakes for everyone.

Except for Sammy, who opts for a fruit salad, coffee, and a big glass of OJ.

The mood has been jovial, but Sam's phone pinged with an alert a few moments ago. Sam sips at his OJ as he reads over the alert, dark eyebrows rising as he takes in whatever it is his phone has to tell him. He's looking healthier and has been acting mentally healthier lately, sleeping soundly and eating well. At the moment his dark red t-shirt, red and blue plaid shirt, and blue tactical jacket are all coordianted, his jeans are newer, and all in all one wouldn't imagine that just last week a whole team had to drag him out of a dank hole. And if the tactical jacket has a suspicious bulge in it that's shaped more like a stuffed bunny than a weapon, what of it?

For the moment, though, he's just reading, giving the others a chance to catch up and converse.

Dean Winchester has posed:
While Sam opts for a fruit salad, Dean ordered a side of pie (aka a slice of pie) with his pancakes. The brothers Winchester have vastly different eating habits. And, with a large toothy grin, Dean finishes off his last pancake and slides the ridiculously large piece of apple pie in front of him, "Piiiiiiie." His grin couldn't possibly be broader.

The fork turns in his hand, and his preferred weapon of choice, with its three prongs carves up the pie as quickly as his favourite hunter's knife would a monster. A piece of the pastry goodness enters his mouth, and his eyes close while a satisfied hum emits from the back of his throat around the piece of pie. After the bite is finished, his eyes open from his pastry-induced bliss and he glances about the restaurant.

The red-headed waitress across the restaurant shoots Dean an easy smile and a wink, prompting his chin to drop and his eyes to train on the pie. His throat clears and his eyebrows lift before allowing the fork to mold the pastry like an artist would clay.

"Even eating pie is an art," his nose wrinkles while his smile turns lopsided. "And I am pie-casso, my friends." He beams at his pun.

Much like Sam, he's dressed for life outside the medical suite--which, for the Winchesters includes the armour clothes (the black jacket rests overtop a button up green collared shirt) and an array of weapons underneath. Unlike Sam there is no strange bulge from anything he carries. The weapons are tight to his body, but no question, they're always there.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Most might think that given an entire menu to order from, Winifred Burkle would pick tacos. However, tonight? She picks waffles. Waffles steeped in syrup and whipped cream. Dean is out medical care, Sam is feeling better, why not celebrate with something different? Dressed in jeans and a shirt with a bright yellow sweater, she's dressed more for greasy food than a battle.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Fred tells Dean as she eagerly cuts at her waffles. He seems in high spirits and she is glad to see it. She doesn't catch the easy smile of the red haired waitress, but she does see that he seems to be enjoying pie, and that is good! She grins at the Pie-casso remark and runs with it. "So, you are a master of the abstract! You like your fillings on the outside and the crust possibly lopsided. Oh! Or maybe with the filling being a representation of the horrors of /war/. That really is a fantastic way to eat pie." Despite the words, she is sincere. She truly enjoys the idea of Dean eating pie in an abstract way.

Sitting next to Sam, she pauses on pulling a large bite of food in her mouth as well as her musings on Pie-casso to look over at the alert on his phone. A curious woman, she can't help herself when there's such a reaction from the taller man beside her. "What is it?" she can't help but ask.

Melinda May has posed:
Out early on good behavior or not, May does not trust that Dean isn't about to run out and get his ass kicked again. Thus she insists on accompanying him. So, while they're all sitting there pie and fruit salad, she opted for a cup of tea. Nothing else. And she brought her own tea. She's dressed as ever, unremarkable-looking dark clothing that is no doubt concealing all sorts of weaponry.

Her eyes also focus on Sam at about the same time as Fred notices his attention on somethign on his phone, and she watches him closely. It's like watching a spaniel noticing a squirrel.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"I think we've got a case," Sam says. Fred will see a text from a young man named Ian Miller. It reads:

//Dude, you still doing that whole ghost-hunting deal?// There's a pause before the next message comes. //Weird stuff has been going on around campus. One of the star wrestlers scaled the building just to take a nose dive off the roof. A dude on the swim team dry-drowned in the locker room. A hockey player was creamed on the ice. All in the span of a week. Someone thinks its ghosts. I dunno if that's true, but something is up.//

"Sounds like we've got something that's not a sports fan, anyway." He glances around the table. Everyone healthy, everyone almost finished dinner-- or tea-- four experienced individuals, surely they can go pull off a successful hunt, and perhaps wash away some of the bad luck that's plagued them lately?

"Ian's a good guy," he adds, "and also a skeptic. If he thinks something's up, there probably is."

He looks at each of them with an intense, earnest expression. It all but shines out of those hazel eyes of his.

Dean Winchester has posed:
Dean squints at Fred before glancing towards Sammy with a very distinctive //really// expression. His lips turn down at the edges and he looks like he's sucked on a lemon, "More like the joy of winning. This pie is awesome! Horrors of war sound like non-pie food." He points towards the fruit salad, "That is the //horrors of war// food!"

But the defensiveness fades at the notion of going on a hunt. "Alright." He leans forward and virtually inhales the rest of his pie (he's not leaving when there's a perfectly good piece of pie there!) before lifting his hands in the air triumphantly and stepping back. "Ready," he talks around his last bite of pie which he hasn't yet swallowed as he stands. The waitress takes the moment to bring by the bill.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Fred keeps throwing glances to May during their meal, though the interruption of the text is interrupts her not-so surreptitious study of the SHIELD agent. Looking at the text and her waffles drenched in syrup, she puts the last bite down with a sad and unhungry slump of her shoulders. "Dry drowned doesn't sound great," she says. That's clearly obvious.

It looks as if she's about to protest when she sees how eager Sam is to pursue the case and reconsiders. Instead, she looks to Dean with a smile when he tries to counter her babble by telling her he thinks the pie is awesome. "I know! That pie is just as awesome as Picasso!" A bit of meaning seems to have slipped over her head. Glancing at the fruit salad, she tilts her head and studies. "No, fruit salad seems pretty pedestrian. Maybe impressionistic. Though, you do have a point. You might literally be able to call it cubist by the way it is cut!" Her eyes widen, realizing Dean has made a perfect point in relation to hers. "Dean, that's genius. Fruit salad really is like Pie-casso."

Train of thought derailed and then back on the tracks, she looks between those gathered as if seeking their complete and utter understanding of the free association she just cobbled together. Confidently, she pushes her plate of half eaten waffles away from her: done with them for now. "So, campus?"

Melinda May has posed:
"Will you be needing any extra resources?" If Fred was expecting some kind of protest from May...

What she does do is touch the commlink in her ear and informs SHIELD that a WAND operation is about to commence and to make sure any local LEOs don't interfere. And then, she finishes her tea in a couple of quick swallows.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam pops a final pineapple into his mouth. The pie comments were funny enough, but...he /is/ eager to get back in the saddle. He does pause to put a quick arm around Fred, kissing her temple. He's distracted. He knows he is. He's hyper-focusing on the road ahead, and he spares a moment of concern that he's coming across as distant, or cold. But he also keeps it appropriate.

Agent May asks about resources, and calls in a WAND operation. He fishes out his consultant badge. "Well, we...won't know till we get there, and probably we don't need a ton of resources to start asking questions," he says, but smiles a bit. "But I mean. Being able to do it legit is nice." They don't even have to pose as FBI! It's awesome! "Campus," he agrees. "Ian probably has more info."

And he texts: //Dude, we're on the way.//

Dean Winchester has posed:
Dean arches a single eyebrow at Sam following Fred's comments. But he chooses not to remark on his brilliant pun that now seems to go over his own head. May earns a lopsided grin with marked boyishness crossing each o this features, "Doubt we'll need resources, but extra hands?" he shrugs. "Wouldn't say no to that." To Sam he responds. "Doing it legit is weird," Dean counters with a wry arch of his eyebrow before leading the way out of the restaurant.

//New York University//

The campus itself is vast and sweeping, and multiple areas have been cordoned off with crime scene tape. While all of the deaths seem to be strange accidents, the police are doing their due diligence.

Ian meets them in the parking lot and falls into easy step with the party, "It's bad. People are dropping out of sports like crazy, making the assumption that somehow this place is cursed if you're an athlete." He frowns, "I play basketball and we're not even sure we can keep a team together with all of the guys dropping." He walks them to where the latest death happened, and in short order, the group is being debriefed.

Thanks to the official nature of the visit, the officer managing the latest scene walks them around the social sciences building to demonstrate what happened, "Witnesses say the Holden kid just kept climbing the building and then let go at the top." The pavement doesn't look exceptional save for the line of white tape on the ground, indicating where the body had been. His lips twist to the side. "The Hart kid died in the locker room after practice. And that Smythe kid? He froze to death in the rink overnight."

Not far from the cordoned area, a small group of young women, all wearing team jackets of their own, are in a group hug that doesn't look like it's going to break up any time soon. One of them backs up slightly, and her tear stained face and reddened eyes speak volumes as to the current state of the group.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Extra resources, that sounds promising. Fred hopes a bit that May brings some of the gadgets she saw only at a glance while rescuing Sam. She's a bit of a glutton for new technology information when available to her. However, intimidated, she decides to wait till those gadgets may actually be brought out on this case that they are embarking on, hoping she'll agree to come with to get looks at the thought about tech.

The kiss against her forehead is met with a smile. She know show important hunting is to him and so she doesn't find it particularly strange that he immediately gets focused on a case when it presents itself to him. She knows the value of burying oneself in something.

Once on campus, Fred listens with an intense sort of focus. She gathers in the information given by the officer, but can't help but move forward toward one of the women that backs up from the small group wearing the team jackets. "Oh, hi, I'm so sorry," she says, sincerely. It might be unclear whether she means that she is in the woman's way or for the circumstances, but it seems by the tone of her voice that she means the overlying situation.

Melinda May has posed:
May simply stays back a half step and lets the boys do the jobs they know best, glad to be able to add the air of officiality to the whole process. Ian gets a serious once-over when they arrive, but in her mind he's sincere enough so she mentally removes him from the 'suspicious' list. The officer also leaves that list, as once they prove they're here in an official capacity he is helpful without being rude or offended.

She watches briefly as Fred approaches the group of young women, mentally evaluating their reactions for anything that seems ... out of the ordinary. She's also mentally evaluating their surroundings, looking for just about anything that seems out of place. It might make it look like she's not paying attention, though.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"We got this, man," Sam tells Ian quietly. "We'll fix this and your team will be winning games again in no time. But I do need you to do something for me. First thing we've gotta do is try to protect as many people as possible. Gather everyone you can, get them into a single room for a team meeting or something, throw salt down on every entrance, windows included. Try not to let them see it, but you need a good thick line of the stuff. That should keep you all safe while we take care of this."

Fred has drawn close to the women, and he hangs back for a second, waiting to see if she can shake something out. He turns his attention back to Ian. "If you can convince some of the team captains to do the same, anyone who might be buying into the ghost theory, that would be good. Can you do that for me? Text me when it's done?"

It's funny. He didn't bother changing into a suit. But he is projecting an air of authority all the same, an air of professionalism that goes beyond the clothes he's wearing and which matches the consultant badge now clipped to his front jacket pocket.

Dean Winchester has posed:
Dean follows the officer and stares up at the building the wrestler had scaled. "So," his lips quirk slightly, "anything these guys have in common besides a love of sport?" His eyebrows lift and he begins to list potential shared attributes: "Hair colour? Eye colour? Major? Foot size? Grade issues? Drugs? Drinking? Weird tendency to follow the moon?"

The officer casts an exasperated look towards May. In many respects, the openness of the questions makes the investigation easier. In others? It makes local law enforcement feel ridiculous. "None of those are leads. These are accidents."

Skeptically, Dean lifts an eyebrow, "You really believe that?" His lips hitch up on one side, "Three freak 'accidents' lead to the deaths of three student athletes in a week. That's a hell of a coincidence."

A blonde woman with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks lives her chin to look at Fred. She's not a pretty crier, and she's wholly aware of it. The sleeve of her letterman jacket rubs against her tear-stained face and she gasps for breath. "Th-thank-you," her voice tremors with unbridled emotion, but she appreciates the sympathy just the same. "D-did y-you know--Nick?" her lips turn down and she begins to sob. "H-how d-did this happen?" she reaches towards her friends, but her muscles fail her. "H-he was fine! Wh-why would he do this?!"

One of her friends, a short brunette, reaches for her to offer some semblance of support. "Hey, hey, hey. Just remember Tracy, he broke up with //you//. You had nothing to do with this. He had no reason to be so sad--"

Tracy rubs her eyes, "I can't believe they're dead."

Just outside the crime scene, still waiting for any word from the investigators he invited to see the scene, Ian rocks from one foot to the other. Sam, however, gives him brief reassurance, "I'll see what I can do to get everyone together. Just... do your best to be quick, okay? I mean, if we don't have a team, we forfeit. And there goes my athletic scholarship. Yeah, expect my text." He takes a few steps away Sam to turn towards the athletic complex. As he does so, a dark-haired woman with stunning aquamarine eyes and perpetually pouting lips treads up to Ian and places a hand on his shoulder. She whispers something in his ear, and he smiles before she treads back towards the athletic.

Ian's head turns, and his eyes peel away from the would-be carnage to follow the now-departing woman.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
While the others move toward the authority figures, Fred can't help but be drawn to those crying in their letter jackets. She barely spares a glance for Sam, Dean or May as she feels awash in the grief that suddenly surrounds her. Her face is earnestly full of sympathy for the blonde woman. "No," she says about knowing Nick. "I didn't know him. I'm sorry." A hand reaches out to touch Tracy's shoulder, offering a bit of comfort, even if it is from a stranger.

After a moment, she asks, "You knew the others, too?" Her tone is almost as wince. Her sympathy is sincere, though she can't help the part of her that is curious. A New York is a large city, as is NYU. If this woman knew more than one of the victims, that might mean something.

Her attention is not at all on Ian or the dark-haired woman. Insted, she focuses on Tracy and her circle of friensd.

Melinda May has posed:
May simply raises an eyebrow at the officer's exasperated look. "Accidents or not, officer, if there is a pattern to these incidents, we need to know about it to prevent similar from happening to the rest of the students in this school." Maybe that'll get him to back down and answer Dean's questions.

She watches Sam talk with Ian before the student turns to walk off, and her eyebrows draw together at the dark-haired woman who speaks with Ian briefly. "I'll be right back," she tells Dean, then moves to follow the woman.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam sees the same, and he glances back at Dean and Fred. May is moving for the woman, and he decides to do two things-- get Ian refocused, and fall on May's wing, so to speak, so that he can back her up. Because he doesn't like the looks of that at all. Not one little bit.

He claps a big moosey hand on Ian's shoulder. "Dude," he says quietly. "Focus, man. Rounding up the other athletes, remember? You got a scholarship to protect."

And you know what? For good measure? He pulls out a satchet of salt from his inner coat pocket. "And hold still."

He dumps the thing right down the back of Ian's neck, hoping to give him some purification or protection. He's not about to let Ian be the next athlete to fall tonight. And then? He's taking long-legged strides to draw close to May, eyes narrowing.

Dean Winchester has posed:
May receives a small nod of thanks from Dean at the support, but for good measure it's paired with a cynical tug of his lips. He's capable of getting information. He's been hunting a long time.

The officer sighs. "Alright. Look, we see no connection except the fact they're all young men and all student athletes. Oh. Except they did all know each other. Apparently they were acquaintances through some ex-girlfriends."

This sparks Dean's attention. His eyebrows lift. "Ex-girlfriends live in the same dorm?"

The officer narrows his eyes at Dean, "...I don't know."

"We all did," Tracy squeaks at Fred. Her blue eyes lid. "Bryce and Kit d-dated Ang and Niki." Her nostrils flare. "Well... they used to." She sniffs hard and wipes her cheeks again. "Ang and Bryce broke up a few months back and Niki and Kit just last month. Nick and I? Two weeks ago." She swallows hard. "It's just... really fresh. I was just starting to get over the breakup." She sniffles again. "It's--it's not like I didn't care about him!" large crocodile tears stream down her cheeks, wholly unbidden.

Dizzily, Ian's steps slow at Sam's approach. "W-what?" His head turns and his dark eyes stare at Sam a few beats before his chin drops. "Right. Athletes. I'll... I'll get on that," his eyebrows knit together as he's not entirely sure what he was doing or where he was going before turning on his heel to tread back to the dorm to get the team together.

The dark haired woman, however, continues to move through the athletic complex. Her lithe figure with milk skin garners several looks as she moves, acting almost like she owns the place while she struts the long hall towards the basketball court.

The court itself seems relatively quiet. A couple of young women shoot hoops in their basketball uniforms with their hair pulled back into ponytails. The dark haired woman treads to the bleachers and takes a seat.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
"OF course," Fred tells Tracy as she spills out the information about what all the victims have in common. Having worked in an private investigation company for this long, she knows a pattern. Hopefully without that training she would also know the pattern as she hears it. "I'm so sorry," she repeats. "That is so horrible to go through."

If lives might not be on the line, Fred might have stopped talking. Of course, it is also possible that she might have continued onward without realizing the ramifications. Certain things that are certain to her are not the same to everyone and at times she does not recognize them.

"Has anyone else recently broken up that you know about?"

Melinda May has posed:
May follows the dark-haired woman to the gym, very much aware of Sam having caught up with her. She stops just outside of the gym and stops Sam there as well. "Don't," she tells him. "You're the target demographic here. If this woman turns out to be more than just suspicious, I need to take the lead." She then very carefully sneaks a photo of the woman through the window in the door and sends it to SHIELD to be put through facial recognition. Maybe they'll get a hit and she's just turn out to be another student.

Yeah. Keep hoping.

She also takes a moment to send a text to Fred to check in on how they're doing out there.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"I'm not the target demographic," Sam says stubbornly. "I'm not a student athlete."

But, alright. He'll let May take point. Because he is at least male, and she is not, and he is still feeling guilty for cutting her out of the big Winter Soldier loop. He waits for the text-- it might help identify the problem, tell him what precautionary measures to take. There are too many creatures that use beautiful women to lure young men to their deaths for him to make any assumptions whatsoever. The earbuds might have been useful; he should have asked for those. But as he watches May text Fred, he decides to do the same with Dean.

//We have eyes on a possible target. Any luck out there?//

Dean Winchester has posed:
"Well... our group has basically all become single lately," Tracy motions towards the girls hugging each other. "I mean, not everyone's here. I'm guessing Becky is shooting hoops. We're all athletes--the dorm matching system had a blip and we all ended up together. It's been pretty rough with all of the break-ups. I'm just glad I've got such good gals to be with. Especially with--" Tracy's voice cracks as she continues to explain to Fred what happened. And then through her tears she emits a small chuckle, "We did a relationship exorcism last week." She rolls her eyes at the ridiculousness of it all, "One of the girls read in a book about it. We lit a candle, said some Latin, and burned the things from our exes. It's just... really great to have such a good friends."

By now Dean has come to join Fred in talking to the girls and overhears the last of that. "Just... how many of you are there?" His eyebrows knit together. "I mean, just support is good. Good to know you're all well supported..."

"Six. We call ourselves the six sisters," she manages a faint smile.

Dean reaches for his phone and replies to Dean's yet, //There could be as many of six of these things.// He turns back towards the ladies, "Where exactly did you ladies perform this ritual?" He swallows hard. "Any remnants of artifacts used would be... uh helpful."

"In our dorm common room," Tracy replies.

"...I see," says Dean.

The two women on the basketball court can be overheard chatting to one another. The first looks towards the second, "I just can't believe him! It's infuriating!" She tosses the basketball and aces the shot, getting what would amount to a three pointer.

"It hurts doesn't it?" the second one asks gently. There's a kind of easy sympathy in her voice as she frowns. "I'm so sorry this happened to you, Becky."

"And the worst part of it is, I should've known better, Cecily. He made it seem like we were destined, meant to be, forever, and then BAM! He goes and finds some other girl while at an away game. Who does that? Don't commit to a girlfriend if you just want to get a little hot pepper wherever you go!" Becky shoots another hoop--another three pointer. Evidently she's pretty athletic.

"That's terrible for you," Cecily soothes while reaching out for the other woman to squeeze her shoulder.

"I just wish he would die in a fire,"

A twinkle reflects in Cecily's eyes at the words. "...anything else you wish?"

The dark haired woman in the bleachers watches the interaction between the pair and her lips curve into an easy smile. She's amused. She stands from her spot, looks directly at Sam and May and continues to walk up the steps out of the spectator area. And once she hits the hallway, the trail goes cold. She seems to have disappeared.

On the other side of campus, in the Student Union building, the fire alarm sounds.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Quite a few things happen as Fred listens to the story placed in front of her. The flippancy of words as you might think them, but know they might have other meaning is a subject far too close to Fred's heart. Things start to come into focus for her. Things said in a fit of pique or unawareness that might change their life. 'I hope he jumps off a building', 'I hope drowns', 'I hope he feels exactly how I felt'.

Fred knows - only too well - how unguarded words might have an effect on things that is not intended. Things start to crystalize in her mind. Panicked, she turns to Dean as he approaches. "Something is happening," she tells him, though she doesn't know exactly what it is, though she knows it rattles her to the core.

While Fred has not interacted much with Dean Winchester other than a search for his brother and the few interim meetings afterward, she is insistent and desperate. "We have to stop it." She's not sure why, but she starts running toward the fire alarm.

Melinda May has posed:
May turns in time to see the woman stand and look right at her before turning to leave the spectator area. With a muttered curse she sprints after the woman, not caring one bit what the two girls playing basketball think. Of course, by the time she gets to that hallway the woman is just gone and there's no way she could have gone far enough to completely evade them.

She regroups with Sam and says in that tone of voice that means she's fully in business mode now, "We need to get back to your brother." Because her gut -- while not as reliable as Coulson's -- is telling her that something bad is going to happen. And soon.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"I know what that was," Sam says definitively, his eyes widening in alarm, nodding to May's comment. His fingers move quickly over his phone as he conferences Fred and Dean into a call. "Guys, I think we're dealing with a vengeance demon. Look, they have one weakness. They /must/ grant human wishes. We can use that against it, but be careful and concise, because the more wishes they grant the more crazy powerful they get."

Count on encyclopedia Sam. He takes off running towards the sound of the fire alarm, not sure where else might be a productive place to go. He just figures May can hear his warning and his information, so he doesn't worry about anything else. "They thrive on casual, careless words so /watch your language/, whatever you do!"

To May: "The target demographic is /any/ human who makes a wish, but they do have favorites. This one's seem to be women who got dumped. So if your lovelife sucks...it /is/ gonna be drawn right to you."

He's not being rude, as he runs. May's just the only woman on the team whose relationship status he's unsure of.

Dean Winchester has posed:
"...yeah... you think?" Dean replies to Fred's insistence that //something is happening//. But as he begins to find his bearings and suggest they check out the girls' dorm common room, Fred is taking off towards the fire alarm. He cringes and sprints after her, but as he does so, picks up the call from Sam. "Well... that's good to--dammit--fire alarm going off in the Student Union! Fred and I are checking it out! Watch out for the..." but the words are lost as Dean freezes to stare at the burning building. No building should go up that fast; there's certainly people inside.

A glance is given to Fred. "Look out for Sammy!" and with those words, Dean Winchester bolts into the burning building.

Inside, the fire burns hot and high, blocking students from the door. Dean curses under his breath and pulls his shirt over his nose and mouth to act as a filter from the smoke. By the entrance, a fire extinguisher sits behind glass. He smashes the glass, grabs the fire extinguisher and aims it at the fire in the entrance--all in a bid to help as many students get out as possible.

Cecily inches closer to Becky. "And what about the others? Your friends, they've all been through so much. It's not fair that you are all in so much pain."

Becky drops the ball, "Yeah, it's been hard. Harder with what happened to Nick, Bryce, and Kit." She frowns slightly. "I wish that no one would ever be able to leave me again."

Cecily's lips curve into a smile.

The doors of the athletic building mysteriously lock.

"And I just wish Mark would get his heart ripped out for what he did to Riley. I can't believe that bastard," her eyes hone in on the floor. "How dare he leave her like that!"

Cecily's gaze softens. "He shouldn't be allowed to do that to anyone again."

"I wish he'd get what's coming to him!"

"...oh. He will," Cecily's tone is all too knowing.

A classroom near Sam and May, a low familiar growl can be heard. And while the beast is invisible, the hellhound is most definitely present.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Dean overtakes Fred as they run toward the fire alarm yelling that she has to go look after Sam. The building bursts into flame far too easily, going up like it is made of tinder rather than brick and mortar. "Dean!" she yells in an attempt to stop him, but the man goes plunging into the fire with barely a backward glance.

Sam's with May, she's fairly certain he'll be safe and would not appreciate it if Fred left his brother to possibly die in a fire. Pulling off her yellow sweater, she wraps it around her nose and mouth to give her a bit of a mask against the smoke. Taking a deep breath, she leaps in after Dean just about when he smashes the glass and grabs the fire extinguisher.

Her hands immediately go to the wall and she desperately starts to search for the bright red of a fire alarm through the smoke and the fire. It's unbelievably hot and nearly impossible to breath, but there are lives on the line. They have to find a way to put out this blaze.

Melinda May has posed:
Racing for the exit door, May hits it at a full run. But instead of the door slamming open to let her through, she bounces off of it and curses. That's gonna leave a bruise. A second, more deliberate push on the door's release mechanism doesn't work either, and now she'ss concerned. Just as she's stepping back to deliver a sound kick to the door she hears the low growl and stops.

"What the hell was that?"

She has a feeling that Sam is going to know. And that it won't be good.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Hellhound," Sam says grimly. He looks back towards the gym. He reaches into his jacket and withdraws a newly illegal sawed off shotgun, shoving it into May's hands. "That's filled with rock salt bullets. Hold it off with that. It's invisible, but you can sometimes see the clawmarks, hear it, feel it. Make sure there's only /one/ angle it can attack you from. It's after someone specific, but it will go through you if it feels you're interfering."

May can do it, he's sure. He's seen her fight. And in the meantime, he can do /this/.

He charges back into the gymnasium at top speed. Demons usually have better hearing than humans, especially when one is doing a tapdance on one of their special weaknesses. He hisses these next words sotto voice:

"Cecily, I wish that you will obey me completely and immediately without question or trickery at all times, and my first command is that you will not flee me. The second command is that you will /call off that hellhound right now/."

Dean Winchester has posed:
Dean empties the fire extinguisher and it's clear the job is way too big for the small fire extinguisher. His eyebrows lift when Fred leaps through the door. "I told you to look out for Sammy!" he yells over the commotion--his words being eaten by the ridiculously loud alarm and din of people screaming.

His attention moves to the students who are already screaming in the complete and utter chaos, "Let's go! Get out here!" The smoke becomes increasingly thick, causing eyes to ache against the burning sensation it produces.

And then the source of the flame enters Dean's gaze. His eyes widen.

The large horned fiery beast in the centre of the Student Union brings the word conspicuous to a totally new level. "Uh..." Dean's head turns to look at Fred. "Oh, COME ON!!"

The tall, broad-shouldered flamed beast is licked by red fire that dances off its muscular body. Its eyes glow red, his nose snarls and smoke blows with each of his breaths.

Dean turns his head to Fred, "New strategy: find the vengeance demon and wish the Ifrit away!"

The dark haired woman who'd grabbed Ian's shoulder earlier stands just outside the building.

Becky continues to dribble the ball adjacent to Cecily until Sam appears from nowhere. Her eyebrows draw together at the wishes and unquestionably, she shoots Sam a look like he's lost his mind.

Cecily, however, transforms at being so called out. Her appearance shrivels and her skin looks akin to a corpse rather than a woman, prompting Becky to scream. Loudly.

The edges of Cecily's undead lips curve upwards, exposing the vengeance demon Halfrek. "Was that a command or a wish?" Why yes, she is a little sassy.

Underneath May's kick, the door continues to be shut. Wishes can be powerful things, it seems. The hellhound growls loudly. And while it can't be seen, its steps can be heard. It charges towards May, but makes a b-line down another hallway... towards the men's locker room.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
"Sam can look after himself! You're the one leaping into burning buildings!" Fred retorts loudly, her voice muffled by her sweater mask. She coughs and continues to grope through smoke and flame to find something to activate the sprinklers.

Over the screaming and the alarms she attempts to lend some direction. "The exit is this way!!" she shouts, hoping the students will be able to discern some triangulation. Then, the fire demon steps into view and her eyes widen - red from the smoke. That is not at all a good sign. "Y-yeah!" Stumbling backward, she grabs for Dean's arm and makes her way back outside to the fresh air.

Melinda May has posed:
May catches the sawed-off shotgun and would make a comment about it, but Sam ran off almost instantly, and she can hear the invisible monster's footsteps approaching quickly. She mentally tries to gauge how close it is when... the footsteps go down an adjacent hallway.

Muttering another curse, she takes off after it, tapping her comm link with one ear. "HQ. May. Hostiles have infiltrated campus population, at least one building is compromised. Get emergency services and a WAND tac team here. Now. Demon protocol." She knows that Croft has been studying the intel they got from Sam's notebook originally, and hopefully now it'll prove useful.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam's nostrils flare as he shoots Halfrek one of those flat looks that renders his mouth into a tight line, his head tilting to one side. "I command you to call off the Hellhound, /now/," he tells her. "I command you to put out the fire out there too!"

Something dark and angry enters his hazel eyes.

Into the phone, "Guys, there's at least two of them, I have one contained and will be banishing her shortly. Everything's under control in the gym."

Of course, it's possible she can't put out the fire cause the other demon did that, but that's a problem for another moment. Sam Winchester is going to do what he can with the best tool he has. His words. And, apparently, all that expensive pre-law education, cause he's going to have to word /everything/ carefully with this demon.

Dean Winchester has posed:
Fred easily coaxes Dean out of the burning building to the exit while the Ifrit blasts another long stream of flame across the Student Union. He coughs when the fresh air hits his lungs, a surefire indication he was probably in there too long. His green eyes scan the area. "Start making wishes," he instructs. His lips hitch up on one side as he moves about the crowd, wishing that random co-eds stop the fire.

The dark haired woman stands at the edge of the crowd staring at the burning building. And for a moment--just one--a ghost of a smile pulls at every inch of her face.

The hellhound rips through the men's locker room, pushing lockers aside as it bounds for one Mark Burg, captain of the wrestling team. Mark falls backwards, knocked onto his back by... nothing?! He struggles against some large unknown force that he can't see, but its canine weight he can certainly feel. The teeth nip and slice the ends of his fingers, chomping at the flesh and leaving a brilliant spray of blood in its wake.

There's a small curl of Halfrek's lips when Sam commands her. She snaps her fingers--a sound that echoes throughout the entire building--and, as magically as it seemed to appear, the force against Mark Burg disappears.

"You're on your own for the fire, commander." She shoots him an easier smile, a brilliant flash of teeth despite her haggard appearance. "Not everything is in my command."

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Unwrapping the sweater from her face, Fred coughs a few times, grateful for the fresher and comparatively cooler air outside. Turning around, she looks about the people gathered to stare at the burning building, hoping to find whoever it is that is doing this. The woman at the edge of the crowd catches her attention for a moment: the smile is not an expression one might generally expect of spectators watching tragedy unfold.

Start making wishes, Dean says. Just to the air? Sure. Why not. Calling out, she looks to see if anyone starts to react to whatever it is she says. "I wish this fire would go out! I was I could speak with whoever is doing this!"

Melinda May has posed:
May charges through to the men's locker room, not caring if there's anyone in the space less than fully clothed. She's in full mission mode, and it's not like she going to see something she's never seen before.

Arriving just in time to see the young man knocked to the floor by seemingly nothing, she raises the shotgun and fires at where she guesses the hellhound to be and hopefully over the now-prone kid.

Huh. Looks like it worked. She steps forward and kneels by Mark, setting the shotgun down within reach to pull a few flat pieces of gauze from inside her jacket.

How badly nipped are his fingers?

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam looks at Halfrek like she's slime under his shoe.

He all but has to. He's about to do something that, in the brighter corners of his conscience, makes him almost as bad as the Hydra captors he was just rescued from.

But she is just a monster.

And it will solve a massive problem he was about to have. It will solve it neat and clean. It will ensure that he doesn't have to alarm anyone. Or let them see the dark, shameful addiction that has been forced on him. He knows what was in those injections now, and he knows the amount of agony that starts flickering through his bloodstream when he can't feed it.

What he doesn't know is how to break it. Or even if he should. Because he can do a lot of good with the abilities it's giving him. He thinks back to that girl. He was able to make sure she lived through an exorcism. He thinks of how many demon corpses he's tucked carefully into shallow graves for the cops to find.

It's justification enough. Briefly, he mutes the phone, just long enough to say:

He takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Halfrek, I command you to teleport directly into my locked storage room on 52nd street, unit 502 at the U-Haul place. I command you to remain there. I command you to sit quietly, saying nothing, touching nothing, using no communication or magic of any kind. I command you to take yourself there right now."

He swallows, hard. Did he leave any loopholes in that carefully worded command? He can't see any.

He swallows for other reasons. For the line he's just crossed, most of all.

Dean Winchester has posed:
And then, magically with Fred's wishes cast, two things happen. First, the fire goes out. Second, the dark haired woman is walking up to her with a less-than-amused expression. "Hello," she says flatly to Fred, narrowing her eyes at the other woman. "What do you want?"

//Looks like Fred got another one// Dean texts Sam. //Think there could be as many as six. Going to check out the crowd.// Milling about the crowd, Dean peeks at each of those gathered in an effort to suss out who is the vengeance demon responsible. He cuts through the crying group of girls and eyes two nearby. His lips curl on one side, "Shame what happened to all those athletes. I wish someone would tell me what the vendetta is against sports."

A blonde young woman standing next to him allows her head to cant to the side. "It's not quite like that," she replies. "It's not athletes."

Dean's eyes glimmer with mischief, "I wish you would tell me what the vendetta is."

The woman smiles defiantly. "Jilted lovers. Heartbreak." She levels her gaze at him. "But," she taps her chin, "not all vengeance is so easily explained is it, Dean Winchester?" She flashes him a warm smile.

Dean's eyes deaden.

"You can't wish your way out of your contract if that's what you're aiming to do," she answers with a toss of her hair. "And we both know you secretly don't want to. You know you don't deserve saving anyways." A coy smile follows the remark. "And, before you send me back, which we both know is coming," her eyebrows draw together, "know that we will meet again someday--the next time one of your jilted lovers makes a wish against you, I'll handle it myself. I mean, assuming that it happens before your expiry date. And you'll have regrets and suffer them eternally in the hellfire you negotiated with Crowley. And while you may be all bravado now, we both know it's a guise for your obvious terror." She smiles serenely.

Dean manages a clearing of his throat and a small tick of his lips, "You know what I am? Bored." He flippantly lifts a hand, "I wish you'd go back to the hell hole you came from."

In the blink of an eye she's gone. And Dean can't help but smirk. He reaches for his phone and dials a conference call, "Three down. Potentially three more, but if we wish into the wind, they'll have to show up..."

The football player's hellhound bite spurts consistent blood from the artery that the beast managed to strike before being wished away. No doubt, the player pales and his eyes roll back into his head while entering into a faint state of shock. He trembles. Hard. He needs a medic and quick thinking to get the bleeding down.

Halfrek stares daggers at Sam. But she can't respondd. Not yet. Not now. In a flash of light, she's disappeared, presumably to where Sam has ordered her.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
As the woman Fred had her eye on starts to walk toward her Fred lets out a puff of air. The fire is suddenly put out behind her and she takes a breath of relief. She wants to look back to make sure everyone made it out of there alive, but she keeps her eyes on the dark haired woman.

"Oh, wow, that worked. I'm not sure why I didn't think it would, I mean, if a wish got people into it, it should get them out right? That is, I--" Suddenly, she clamps her mouth shut. No stray words. She has to be very specific and make sure not to say the wrong thing. For Fred? This is a tall order. Holding her hands together in front of her, she waits a minute, possibly thinking her entire sentence out before saying it. "First, I wish I knew your name. And second, I wish you'd call the others we haven't found who are involved in this to come here."

Melinda May has posed:
May doesn't waste time. She knows an arterial bleed when she sees one, and she uses the gauze to do her best to stop the bleeding. It can't be pleasant for the kid, but pain is better than dying. Using one hand to maintain pressure on the wound, she uses her free hand to pull a length of silk from her jacket to start a tourniquet. A bit of slightly sloppy one-handed Hojojutsu later, and she roughly pulls the makeshift tourniquet tight.

"HQ, May. Get those medics here. I have a kid bleeding out, athletics building, men's locker room."

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam wastes no time. He goes looking for May next, needing to make sure she survived the Hellhound. What he finds, of course, is May giving medical treatment to a kid who is already dying. The grim expression that crosses his face is intense; it was one they may not have managed to save. He has no healing powers, nothing so good and so pure as /that/ runs through his veins. He hears Fred summon the others on his phone, and there's a brief, grim smile. It was well worded and well-done. He has no doubt that they'll be able to round them up from here, but he keeps an ear out...

Just in case anything goes wrong. He misses Dean's conversation with the other demon entirely, of course, distracted, as he is, by everything else.

"Can I help, somehow?" he asks May. "Until they get here? What can I do?"

He has some very very basic first aid, but he figures pouring Jack Daniels on this kid's neck and engaging in some hamfisted stitching or cauterizing is probably barking up the wrong tree...

And then he facepalms.

"Fred, we've got a dying kid in here, before you banish the rest of them can you wish a full recovery for him? Fast?"

Dean Winchester has posed:
The dark haired woman levels a look at Fred. She's annoyed, but she answers anyway, with the slightest lift of her eyebrows, "Nemesis. My name is Nemesis. I am so far beyond an everyday demon. I am vengeance herself--the root of jealousy." Her lips quirk with pride. The last has her frowning. She emits a sharp, shrill whistle and two others appear beside her. Fred may recognize the last two as members of the crying group; evidently they had ingratiated themselves with the athletes' ex-girlfriends.

Satisfied that he'd banished Anyanka back to where she came from, Dean strides over to where Fred and the vengeance demons are standing. "Well now, doesn't this look like a wishful place?" his nose wrinkles.

Nemesis stares blandly at him. "You think you're funny?"

Dean answers: "I think I'm adorable." He looks towards Fred, "What do you think Freddie? Feeling like making a wish to send these ladies back to where they came from?"

In the locker room, Mark continues to convulse, but is in no position to object to any of May's handiwork. And in many ways it's lucky he's not. The bleeding is staved. Having good medics around is useful.

Through the coms, a voice echoes back to May, "Medics are deployed and on their way."

Winifred Burkle has posed:
The appearance of the other members of the crying group in front of her is met with a blink of her eyes. Fred had pegged them as sincere. There's a sideways glance at Dean as he calls her 'Freddie,' head tilting just a bit.

Through the phone, she hears Sam's request and glances at Dean. He seems pretty intent on sending them back immediately, but she quickly says, "I wish that the boy the hellhound injured was healed." Not knowing that May's expert combat medic skills are working, she quickly wishes that to ensure the boy survives.

Then, she smiles and then grants Dean's request. "And then I wish you would go back to where you came from!"

That taken care of, she talks back into the phone, "I think we got them, is everything okay on your end?"

Melinda May has posed:
May glances at Sam briefly as he arrives to try to help, and tells him softly as he's on the phone, "I've called in response teams. They're about three minutes out."

Of course, she has no idea what's going on outside of the locker room. And she she doesn't realize that Fred just wished for the kid to be healed, so she's not letting up on the gauze or the tourniquet.

Sam Winchester has posed:
"Everything's fine. Great work," Sam tells Fred, making no effort to disguise the warmth in his voice. She did do great work, after all. He hangs up the phone and stands guard over May. It can't hurt to let the medics determine that the wrestler is fine.

But ultimately, he is; they come and look only to find him fully healed. One of the medics casts an eyeroll May's way. "WAND shit," he says. "Never fails." But he's...not really that upset about it. A saved life is a saved life. The kid, of course, is pretty freaked out, and nobody really wants to speculate about his future therapy bills, but that's a problem for another day.

Meanwhile, here's hoping those six young ladies never try any kind of 'cleansing their feelings' ritual or whatever funky New Age BS they did to accidentally summon a bunch of vengeance demons to a college campus. There's certainly time to deliver that lecture, and to seek out Ian and let him know that the problem has been dealt with.

All in all, however...

It's another successful hunt, none of the four who went to deal with it are seriously hurt, and NYU can go back to normal, which means...everyone can probably place this one? Squarely in the "win" category.