Cold Comfort/Supernatural/Ketch for PuddinPop

[Sneesee]

Ok, so this is my first story in a very long time, please be gentle. LOL Thank you PuddinPop for the idea of using Ketch, I love torturing him!

Cold Comfort Part 1

Arthur Ketch stared at Mick Davies' head as the pool of red around it grew slowly. He lowered his gun and then looked up to see Dr. Hess giving him a faint smile. He'd done the right thing, shooting Mick in the back of the head. Even if the man's ideas regarding the American hunters weren't that awful, they didn't fit in with the Men of Letters agenda. Dr. Hess was right, there was an order to things and Mick had started screwing things up. Still, Ketch felt a small tinge of guilt for killing him. Especially when Dr. Hess immediately ordered him to assassinate all of the American hunters, starting with the Winchesters.

She tossed the files on the desk, towards him, not far from where Mick was bleeding, Dean's name staring back at him. Inwardly, he winced. He'd also become a little too close to the Winchester clan. This wasn't going to be an easy task, physically or emotionally. The Winchesters were a scrappy family, and had managed to elude death numerous times. Plus, Ketch had recently slept with Mary Winchester, and that had done a number on him. Not that he hadn't been with women before, he'd had more than his fair share. Nut Mary was something extraordinary. Sleeping with a formidable hunter twisted things up inside of him, and made him hungry for more. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to move forward with this plan, but thankfully he'd proven his loyalty to the Men of Letters by shooting Mick, and Dr. Hess would leave him to do what he did best, alone.

“You do understand what I'm ordering you to do?”

Her tone was crisp.

“Of course. You can count on me,” he replied automatically.

He glanced down again at Mick's bleeding head with his eyes still open in shock, and shivered slightly. He didn't want to end up like that. Although being shot in the back of the head wouldn't be the worst way to die, he supposed.

“Wonderful, please get right on that. We don't have time to waste,” she ordered, and then turned on her heels and left.

Once she was out of sight, Ketch pinched the bridge of his nose. Great, he was starting to get a headache. He decided to clean up his mess, dispose of Mick's body, and then get back to his hotel and get some sleep. And hopefully come up with a brilliant plan to eliminate the Winchesters.

 

 

Ketch woke up to the same headache he went to bed with. He groaned. His throat was also scratchy and raw. It'd been forever since he'd felt like this. In fact, he couldn't even remember that last time he'd ever been sick. A nice hot shower should do the trick. He found a bottle of ibuprofen, swallowed a handful without even counting, and then turned the shower on full blast, as hot as he could make it. He hopped in and welcomed the scalding water, even though it burned his skin. He felt marginally better after he got out, the headache started to subside. His throat was another story, however. He finished getting ready and decided to head downstairs to the hotel restaurant for some tea, which he knew would soothe his throat. There was no time to get sick.

As he sat alone, sipping his hot tea, he played several scenarios in his head on what to do with the Winchesters. He'd grown rather fond of Mary, and she was a maniac in the bedroom. He didn't know if he had the stones to kill her. Even her boys were growing on him. That is why he was struggling with how he'd killed Mick. Mick wasn't wrong about them. The Winchesters could be very valuable to the cause, if only they were easier to control. Yet, that is also what made them so unique and good at what they do. He rather admired them.

And he wouldn't be able to kill them one by one, because the survivors would retaliate. His mind wandered to thoughts of how to stage their demise, so that the Men of Letters thought they were dead. And then teaming up with them to finish the mission. He knew he was being delusional, but perhaps there was a way.

His phone chirped with a text, stealing him from his thoughts. It was from Mary. She wanted to meet in the afternoon to discuss another hunt. He shot her a reply, asking her to meet in his room. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't hopeful for another session in bed with her. She told him she would be there and what time. He had a few hours to waste before seeing her, so he decided to go for a walk to clear his head.

The sun was bright as he exited the hotel. Just as he was retrieving his sunglasses from his coat pocket, a strong tickle overtook his nose. He quickly threw his left arm over his face as he sneezed, “Hih-chuh!” With a sniff and a small shudder, he composed himself. He put his sunglasses on, sure that the sun was to blame for the sneeze. But as he started walking, he couldn't stop sniffling. The sneeze had been rather wet, and also clogged his nasal passages a bit. Next he found his handkerchief that he always carried, but never actually used as intended, and stopped to give his nose a blow. The blow was productive, and that wasn't a good sign. Also, his throat was getting worse, not better. He felt that the fresh air and a walk would still be the best thing to do, so he found a nearby park and kept walking.

He was no closer to a plan. The more he thought about it, the more conflicted he became. He was a hunter, an assassin. Why was he suddenly feeling so much guilt? That wasn't like him at all. He found a bench to sit down. It was occupied by a little old lady, feeding some birds. The things he did were for people like her, so that they could live and not know the horrible and dangerous things that lurked in the world. But wasn't that what the Winchesters did too?

He pulled his damp handkerchief out of his pocket again, and sat there with his mouth open as he suspected he was about to sneeze again. This was becoming inconvenient. He despised sneezing, as it was such a weak thing to do. His whole body tensed up, succumbing to the itch that spread from the back of his nose. He hitched in a breath, steadied his handkerchief in front of his face, and then thrust forward with a loud, “Huh-shoooo!”

“My goodness, god bless you!” the little old lady exclaimed.

Ketch groaned, blew his nose, and turned his head towards the old woman. He didn't believe in god, but he still liked manners and common courtesy. So, blessing was somewhat nice to hear, even after showing such helplessness.

“Thank you, my lady,” he said politely.

She giggled a little.

“You have a lovely accent.”

“Thank you a-” he started to say, but his breathing shifted and his nose tickled, and he was about to sneeze, again. He wished like hell this wasn't happening to him, here, now, as the old lady watched him with wide eyes.

“Hih-chiiishhhuh!”

“God bless you again, young man. Are you catching a cold?”

He kept the hanky at his nose and said, “I wish I could say no, but I am afraid you may be right.”

“Oh, you should get yourself some chicken soup, tea, and then rest.”

Her grandmotherly advice was sweet. He'd never had anything like that growing up. The Men of Letters taught him to toughen up, not give in to a mere cold.

“Wonderful advice, thank you again my dear lady.” Even though he had no intention of heeding her advice.

She blushed, “Take care, young man.”

He forced a smile, and then got up to leave. He still had to meet Mary, and figure out what to do about the mess at hand.

[Shamaël]

That's the fic I didn't know I needed before reading it! I love the way you use Ketch's point of view, showing his first doubts, his guilt after he killed Mick, and the admiration he can't help feeling towards the Winchesters. This is awsome and I can't wait to read more of it!!! I must confess I have a crush on Ketch and there are too few fics focusing on him... So thanks for sharing!

 

Edited January 6, 2019 by Aliena H.

[castiel_angel]

This is really great—I didn’t know how I’d feel about this fic at first but you DID AMAZING!!! There really is about nothing on Ketch and there should be more because he is such a wonderful (and cute) character ☺️ Great job!