Hello my dear readers, and welcome to another fanfic by moi. For what started out as a little plot bunny, this has kinda exploded, but I've had a lot of fun with it. This is pretty much finished, I just need to tie up the last few chapters, so don't worry about me abandoning it halfway through (if you've read my other stuff, you'll know that I tend to do that).
This is set pre-12.19, before they get Dagon and before Cas disappears (still don't wanna talk about that episode). Anyway, enjoy.
Disclaimer: Supernatural is not mine. However, the hilariously horrible headaches that I give to the hilariously adorable characters of aforementioned Supernatural are.
"I'll just be happy to gank this S.O.B.," Dean rummaged around for his pistol and the devil's trap bullets. Sam had already painted a pentagram inside, but it was always good to be safe for once. He handed Sam the demon blade hilt-first.
"Yeah. Who would've thought something like this would become a milk run for us?"
"Heh. Yeah." Dean glanced up at the darkening sky, "We should get moving. He'll be back soon."
Sam nodded. Dean slammed the trunk of the Impala and followed Sam inside the building that they'd tracked the demon to. It was an abandoned warehouse. Why did it always have to be abandoned?
Sam took up his position by the door. Dean double-checked on the pentagram painted just inside the closed door. Deeming it satisfactory, he went to take up his place in front of the door.
And waited. And waited. Sting operations were not his forte- he much preferred instant action. But Sam insisted this was playing smarter, not harder, so-
Dean tensed as he heard footsteps crunching in the gravel outside the door. He made eye contact with Sam, who nodded, shifting his footing. Dean raised his pistol, ready to shoot.
The door creaked open slowly- and, god, why the hell wasn't it oiled? This was classic cliche horror movie, right here. And, unfortunately, Sam and Dean were the white guys.
A booted foot appeared through the door, followed by a leg, then a body. The demon's face was blocked from their view, cast in shadow. Dean's finger tightened on the trigger, but he held back when Sam stepped forward and got in a good stab to it's side, instantly retreating back towards Dean after making what should have been a killing blow.
But the demon kept walking. A fizz of ochre weakly emanated from the wound, but nothing more. It's eyes were focused forward.
It took another step until it was smack in the center of the devil's trap. It knelt down, splaying it's hand across the still-slightly-sticky paint. There was a dull shaking in the room- it only lasted about 5 seconds, but when it stopped Sam saw that the concrete slab floor was sporting a huge crack. It ran across the center of the room, straight through the devil's trap, leaving the ground marred and uneven.
And the devil trap useless.
Dean took three successive shots with the devil's trap bullets, each one ringing out loud as the last. The demon jerked back with each shot, but he stayed standing. Dean stepped back, protectively putting a hand to Sam's chest and forcing him to take a step back too.
"What the hell?"
"Yes. Hell," the demon's voice was powerful, echoing in the recesses of the building. It paced forward, moving with agonizingly slow deliberance over the devil's trap.
"Nice try. Clever. Good to know that you're not just brutes. Surprising," he inclined his head towards Dean, who was fuming. He shot it in the head- the demon rolled his eyes, looking up at the bullet wedged in his forehead.
He plucked it out with two fingers like a splinter. He flicked it away, sending it clinging on the ground.
Dean followed it out of the corner of his eye, but kept his sight trained on the demon.
"Dean?" Sam's voice took on that tone, the one asking for guidance. Run? Fight? Regroup?
"What the hell are you?"
The demon's snarl dropped, replaced with a displeased frown. His eyes went unfocused, and a second later they began- changing. Spasmodically. Flicking between normal hazel human eyes and black, back and forth, almost too fast to register. They all looked the same, but they were different. They were the eyes of every demon stuck in that poor host. The host's face moved with each passing flicker, twitching and wincing with the surge of power.
As the eyes continued to flicker, the demon answered, "We are Legion," his voice was darker, "One, but many."
It's face- it's true form- was invisible to them, but it too changed with each flick of the eyes, a quick series of monstrous snapshots. The last eyes to flash before them were the bloodshot, unfocused eyes of the host before the color settled again to charcoal black.
It briefly closed its eyes as if to compose itself, and the frown was replaced with a smirk.
"You know what would be better than killing you?" It stepped forward. The door slammed behind it by some unseen force, making both Winchesters flinch. Sam hefted his blade, although he knew that it was useless against the demon. Dean replaced his gun with an angel blade. Dean was muttering an exorcism under his breath. Legion pointed a calmly dangerous gaze at him.
He raised a hand, crooking his fingers. Dean's throat closed up, forcing the words of the exorcism to flee from him as he tried to breath under the force crushing his windpipe.
"Dean!" Sam rushed towards him, but somehow that motion ended up with him flying backwards, crashing into the wall. Stars flitted across his vision as his head snapped back against the wall- he would've been on the ground had it not been for the demon pinning him in place.
The demon stood directly in front of Dean, looking down at him with something akin to pleasure. He twisted his hand and Dean's splutters were completely cut off- he fell sideways, fingers scrabbling uselessly at his throat.
"I don't want to kill you," the demon knelt down next to Dean, looming right above his face. He forced the angel blade out of his hand, twirling it between his fingers. He dug the blade under the collar of Dean's shirt before popping the top button off of Dean's flannel. He flicked the fabric aside and twisted the tip of the knife into his skin, right below his collarbone.
Right on top of his tattoo.
Blood dribbled down, soaking into his shirt. Dean, for all the good it did, fought like a rabid animal, kicking and thrashing. He could barely make out Sam shouting above the Niagara-esque rushing of blood past his ears.
The demon shook his head, tutting, but weakened the force on his throat. "There are things worse than death. All these fools, trying to kill you- making you one of us would be so much more enjoyable." The force on his neck was completely taken away when the demon braced Dean's shoulder, easily pinning him down with one hand. Dean took a gasping breath- but air wasn't the only thing that went in.
The mouth of the face above him opened wide, and insidious black smoke poured out. Demons.
Legion.
'Enjoyable' didn't sound very enjoyable to him at all. Sam, from his half-conscious state, was able to send a frantic thought, a plea, a prayer of help. He helplessly watched- and he struggled, oh did he struggle- as black smoke slithered into Dean's mouth like poison.
Get here in time. Please.
The next few moments happened too quickly for Sam's concussive state to register. There was a whooshing sound, the beat of wings for just a brief second, and Dean was gone, leaving the demon kneeling over empty air. Dean found himself in a motel room. Sam was deposited next to him a second later, stumbling to regain his footing. He whipped around to face his savior, who was equally fast. As he turned, Cas lunged at Dean, putting an angel blade to his throat.
"Leave him," Cas growled. He forced the demon to step back until he collided roughly with the horrendous floral wallpaper of the motel room.
Dean snarled, green eyes flashing black.
"You kill me, you kill him. Either way, we win," the demon laughed manically, throwing his head back in ruthless mirth despite the blade still digging into his skin. Cas, the epitome of stoicism, began repeating an exorcism- Sam didn't recognize it, but he recognized a few of the lyrical words as Enochian. Apparently it was an actual Enochian exorcism. It definitely did not translate to 'You breed with the mouth of a goat', if the demon's reaction was anything to go by.
Dean thrashed, but Cas was still bracing him against the wall. The demon's true face was brought forth as it was being forced from the vessel, flickering in Cas' angel-oomphed eyesight. Seeing that hideous face on Dean. . . It reminded Cas, for a horrifying moment, of the Mark.
"I won't-" the demon gritted his teeth, sparing a glance in Sam's direction, "we won't stop until they are us."
"I know." That was exactly why Cas was going to kill Legion before he got the chance. His eyes glowed with unfettered power. He finished the exorcism; not even a second after the last word was spoken, Dean's mouth was forced open as the demon fled, black smoke pouring out. It funneled through the air before flying out of the room. Cas stepped back, taking a breath before removing the blade from Dean's neck, who promptly collapsed to his knees.
Sam, sluggish mind finally telling him to act, lurched forward, putting a tentative hand on Dean's shoulder. He was shaking slightly, breath ragged, and he was still holding a hand to his throat.
He was doubled over on the ground, forehead almost touching the floor, hands braced against the rough carpet. Sam realized he was saying something. Repeating the same two words over and over after each breath.
"Holy sh-"
"Dean? Hey- you're okay," Sam lightly smacked the side of his face, because his brother was acting catatonic, shocky, and Sam didn't like it. At all. Dean nodded, fisting a hand into the fabric of the shoulder of Sam's shirt. Sam slowly helped him stand, firmly gripping his arm, and he only let go when he was positive that Dean had stopped swaying.
"Perfect timing, Cas," Sam acknowledged trench-coated angel, whose eyebrows were pinched in concern at the interaction before him. Cas barely nodded.
"I heard your prayer," he finally forced his eyes off of Dean, making eye contact with Sam. "I see you found him," Cas said.
"Found who?" Sam asked, "What the hell was that?"
"Legion."
So? What do you guys think? Follow/Favorite/Review if you liked it. There's more incoming, say around this Wednesday-afternoon-ish.