"And in the End"
Summary: Sam and Dean undertake the Trials…End of Series Speculation. M RATING LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, IMAGERY. ** MAJOR CHARACTER DEATHFIC**
Rating: M for adult language, imagery, and violence.
A/N: If you have decided to read this, despite the not so pleasant warnings, this will be a DeathFic, and this is your warning for it. I won't tell you where it happens. But, if you are sticking with this fic, please remember that.
Last A/N #: This was written before a lot of the ending of Season 8 happened, and it is AU because of it.
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"I think Sam and Dean should go out in a blaze of glory.."
~Jensen Ackles
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Prologue
"Holy fuck!" Dean took a minute to swear into the night. Not even a full minute, it was cut off 10 seconds from sixty by the total exhaustion choking its hold on his body. There was blood running heavily down his ear, blocking out his hearing like he was underwater. Half of the outer ear was gone and it made an almost waterfall like effect from the blood oozing out of the hole from the torn flesh. Dean screamed his brother's name.
Sam emerged from the tree line, running towards him. His brother was limping badly. Dean could hear it snap and crunch from where he stood 10 yards away; and he had no idea how the fuck Sam managed to keep going when he was basically grinding bone against bone.
"Dean!" Sam roared when he saw him. It was a growling, desperate sound. Something someone would make when they found something so vital and basic that had been torn from them, like their heart.
"Sammy!" Dean ran on aching and bruised muscle towards his brother. His ribs were broken all the way down the lower part of his chest and it felt like he was inhaling fire with each step. But, he had to reach Sam.
An angry hiss, followed by bone curdling laughter broke over the grassy hill incased in dark trees behind Sam. A woman, once a beautiful blonde, now with jagged shorn hair and skin tight leather sauntered out of the trees. Her eyes were solid black and she held a wavy 10 inch blade knife in her hand, dripping with blood.
"Leaving the party so soon boys?" she smiled wickedly, and with a cock of her head. She held up the blade, the blood dripping down it like red rain. "It was just starting to get good," the blood began to drip down the blade to the hilt and onto her hand. She placed the hand in her mouth and sucked the blood off her fingers like syrup. "You came to try and shut me away with all my family into our over crowded house, and now you're bailing just because it got a little heavy with the maiming, and the paralysis?" She flashed a look over at Sam when she said this.
Sam was still standing on his shattered leg, but he could fee blood tricking down the knife wound high up on his thigh. He wasn't a doctor, but the area was quickly growing numb. Whatever the demon had hit with her knife while wearing a doctor had hit one of his spinal nerves.
"I mean, come on!" She threw out "I didn't cut your balls off guys," she smiled slow and sickening to Sam, then Dean. "So stop acting like I did." She stepped over almost lazily to Sam.
He raised the sawed off level with her head. "You should've stayed home bitch!"
She laughed again. "And miss this show? Being able to finally bring down Sam and Dean Winchester. "Not a chance in- well you know."
Sam swiped the black knife at her forehead, managing to open a huge gash in her forehead. She screamed, but it sounded more like annoyance than pain. Her borrowed body righted itself and she wiped the blood of her face. "That wasn't very nice Sam," she raised her hand in a twisting motion in the air and Sam started to gasp and clutch at his neck.
Sam's shattered leg couldn't take the weight any longer and he fell to his knees.
"Sammy!" Dean came closer, Ruby's knife out and lunged. But then the demon held out her other hand he was thrown back like he hit an invisible wall.
"I don't think so handsome," she said as Dean groaned from the jarring his body took when it hit the hard ground. "Remember Abaddon? She was my bitch. I got tricks she's never even heard of." She laughed, low and sinister, and blood dripped from the corners of her mouth. She twisted her hand in the air like she was turning a door knob and Sam started coughing, bringing up mass amounts of thick blood, so dark red it was almost black.
Sam reached his hands to his throat, feeling the blood cutting off his air, choking him. Flecks of blackish red stained his hand, just like it had been doing for weeks, competing for the searing pain in his leg, making him wish, for one brief second that he couldn't feel anything anymore.
The human wearing demon laughed dryly and full of sarcasm: "Having fun yet Sammy?"
"Don't you call him that you fucking scank!" Dean shouted as loud as he could with the amount of breath that he had in him.
The demon's eyes turned marble cold. Dean had been glared at by almost every demonic thing in existence, from demons in the pit, Azazel, even Lucifer himself. But the solid black eyes staring at him were Antarctica awash in blood. She huffed like a horse or a night ghast: "'Sammy, Sammy', the children shout" the demon's voice had dropped low, like a warped eerie twisted recording. She raised her hand and pulled it forward like she was yanking on an invisible chord.
The next sound Dean heard, he never wanted to hear again. Sam was screaming in total and complete agony , hitting the ground like a felled tree. "Sam!" he clawed his way back to his feet, but was flung hard into a tree, unable to move.
The demon stood there holding a human bone broken in half, coated in blood and spider webbed with veins: "The demon ripped his femur out."
Sam was writing on the ground, his lower leg a bloody torn mess, and the pain from breaking it before was nothing compared to the bone no longer being in his body. His writhing turned to wailing when the demon started sucking on the broken end of his bone, chewing on the marrow inside – because he could still feel it.
She stared at Sam, but didn't move towards him. Instead she sauntered over to Dean, and thrust the jagged end of Sam's femur against his throat like a knife: "What's the matter Deano?" she poked a razor sharp pointy end of bone against Dean's neck, that drew a line of blood across the skin. "Don't like boning your brother?"
Dean struggled against the invisible force that held him. He fought as hard as he could, needing to break her hold for the sole reason to get to Sam: "I'm going to gut you all over this forest you demonic piece of shit!" Dean said this in a voice that heaved for breath.
"Not if you're dead, cowboy," she stroked his face with red painted nails that had been filed into points, drawing blood down his cheek. "And this time, we're going to make it stick. No more Lazarus Rising for the Winchesters anymore, But that doesn't mean we're not going to draw it out-" She squeezed his cheeks like she was cooing to a baby.
"Torture after all is our base stock," she leaned really close to Dean's face, so close that Dean could see where the red lipstick she wore ended and the dried blood began. "And we have a super special for you Dean, we know what is real torture for you Dean Winchester, and it isn't death," she smiled with her hideous lipstick, and her voice became that low unearthly pitch again: "It's watching your dear beloved Sammy die slow and painful, right in front of your eyes."
She reached out an arm behind her and twisted her hand again like she was winding a music box. Sam screamed his guttural scream, curling more into himself.
"Pathetic," The demon's voice was full of sarcastic pity, wearing a sneer that would terrorize anyone who saw it. "The apocalypse, closing the Gates –such seemingly noble tasks, and they give them to you." She turned her face back over to Dean who was heaving on all the curses and things he wanted to say to her that fought for competition so that nothing came out of his mouth.
"You were right Dean, it really should've been you to do this, instead you send this child to do a condemned man's job-"
"You know," Dean said, looking her dead in her black eyes. "You think after all these years you bitches would stop underestimating my brother-"
The demon turned at that moment and stared with stolen wide eyes at Sam standing on a leg with half a bone gone, raising an Angel sword in his hand. He lunged with a precision born from years of experience.
The demon wailed something inhuman in a language that only those on the lowest circle of hell had ever heard before. She turned, at the same time releasing the hold that she had on Dean.
Throwing him in front of the blade.
Neither Dean nor Sam knew who screamed louder.