Drown My Will
Disclaimer: The boys are Kripke's but the story's mine.
A/N: This story follows Memory of His Last Breath.
Rounding the heavy, intricately carved banister of the wide staircase, Sam tread as silently as possible down the shadow filled hallway of the abandoned Victorian. There were four doors ahead of him: one to the left, two to the right, and the final one directly ahead. After carefully checking the first two rooms, while simultaneously listening for any sounds of distress from his brother downstairs, Sam slowly entered the third room. This being the largest room yet, he walked deeper into the darkness meagerly lit by his small flashlight.
The door to the room slammed a heartbeat before Sam was thrown against the far wall and held in place by an invisible weight bearing down on his chest. He heard his brother shout his name from somewhere below, followed by quick, heavy footsteps ascending the stairs. Sam's eyes tried to adjust to the sudden and complete darkness that had surrounded him when his flashlight sputtered then died after it hit the floor.
"Sam!" Two loud thumps, followed by a grunt of pain that unmistakably came from his brother, had Dean racing up the steps two at a time. Immediately spying the one closed door, he threw his right shoulder into it. When the door didn't move, Dean stepped back, lifted a booted foot, and used the full weight of his body to kick the door. That not having the desired effect either, he resorted to pounding on the door with his fist. "Sam! Answer me!"
A muffled "Dean!" was heard from inside the room. Knowing his brother was still alive allowed Dean's heart to slow down enough to let him think through the thunderous blood pounding in his ears.
A shuffled footstep from the deepest of the room's shadows, confirmed Sam's suspicions that he was not alone. A whisper of moving cloth preceded the sudden tearing down of the drapes from one window. The heavy fabric puddled to the floor amid a cloud of dust and moonlight as his captor stepped into the light that now fell through the window nearest to Sam. A girl, no more than twenty years of age, stood before him with a smug expression on her face. Obsidian eyes studied Sam for a few quiet moments.
"You don't seem surprised to see me," Her rich alto voice filled the silence. She took another step closer to Sam. Flicking long brunette hair back over her shoulder, she laughed, "You found me awfully quick. I guess you're better hunters than I expected."
"Demons always seem to underestimate us, it's good to know you're no different." As he struggled to pull himself away from the wall, Sam listened to what sounded like Dean kicking the door, still trying to force his way into the room.
Taking yet another few steps forward, the girl suddenly lost her arrogance and gasped, "You're him! I didn't realize…I…I'm sorry…if I had known…"
Sam felt the pressure that pinned him abate as he attempted to figure out the fear he now heard coming from the demon-possessed girl. Free of her hold, he edged closer to her and surprisingly, she shrank back.
Dean picked that inopportune moment to crash through the door, startling both Sam and the demon. Before Sam had time to regain his senses or stop his brother, Dean had the girl in a choke hold from behind and had driven Ruby's knife through her side. He held her until the electric spasms had finished coursing through her, then he pulled the knife from her body and let her sink bonelessly to the floor with a soft thud.
"Sammy, you okay?" Breathing hard through his fear and worry, Dean made a visual scan of his brother, seeking any evidence of possible harm. Other than a puzzled look on his face as he stared at the recently vacated human host, Sam appeared unscathed. Dean closed his eyes for a second, willing his heart and breathing to slow now that he had seen that his brother was physically alright.
"Yeah…yeah, I'm fine." With distraction evident in his voice, Sam slowly walked over to the body of the girl. He kneeled down and gently cupped her face in one hand. "She knew me, or rather the demon knew me."
Raising an eyebrow, Dean regarded his brother warily. "So…that's nothing new. You sure you're okay?"
He watched as Sam stood and turned to him, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Dean, it was different this time, she was scared of me. She…she even apologized."
Dean couldn't help or hide the disbelief in his voice, "Apologized? For what? For killing that family last week?"
"No, for not realizing who I was…or am." In his frustration, Sam ran his hand through his hair. "Let's just go, we found the demon, she's gone, we're done." With that, he turned on his heal and left the room, leaving Dean staring after him nonplussed.
As Sam made his way out of the house and back to the car, he couldn't shake feeling disturbed by what he had just heard. The demon had been afraid of him, but he honestly couldn't come up with a reason why. Unfortunately, Dean killed it before he could even begin to question it.
What started out as a typical hunt has now taken a left turn. Sam had found an article in the paper a week ago detailing the gruesome murders of a family of five. Mom, Dad, and three children. They had all been mutilated beyond description. And as usual, the local police had no idea what had truly occurred. Shortly after arriving in town, the brothers had inspected the crime scene and immediately found the tell tale traces of sulfur.
A few seemingly clever deductions later, they were here, at an old Victorian house that hadn't been inhabited in twenty some-odd years. Looking back now, it was clear to see the demon had left a trail to this very location, probably knowing some hunter would stumble along the path of crumbs. The hunter's death would have been a fitting denouement to the demon's week of destruction.
Upon reaching the Impala, Sam realized the doors were locked and his brother had the keys. Leaning against the passenger side door, he breathed in the cool night air as he watched the house for signs that Dean was on his way. Guilt flushed through him as Sam realized Dean would be checking the house for any weapons they may have left behind. It was something their father had drilled into their heads from the time they each had begun hunting, and yet Sam had walked out leaving Dean to finish the job.
Inside the house, Dean did a walk through of each room until he was satisfied nothing that could be linked to them was left behind. Once more, he found himself in the upstairs room with the girl's body. Bending over to pick up the flashlight Sam must have dropped earlier, he heard a labored gasp of air. Within an instant, he kneeled beside the girl and felt for a pulse.
At his touch, her eyelashes parted to reveal slits of blue irises. Her gaze flicked around the room before finally focusing on Dean leaning over her. Another rough intake of air, barely enough to be called a breath, and then in a ragged whisper, "Wants…you."
Even though he knew he couldn't save her, he found himself applying pressure to the wound in her side, the wound he had caused. "Wants me? Who wants me?" Dean pressed down more firmly onto the knife wound when the blood continued to hemorrhage through his fingers.
She moaned low in her throat and feebly attempted to shift away from Dean's hands. "Help…him kill." The girl's eyes slid closed as her last breath was released in a sigh and her pain-rigid muscles lost all their tension. After checking her pulse one more time, Dean slowly maneuvered back away from the girl, rubbing his hands on the thighs of his jeans, trying in vain to dispel any and all traces of the thick crimson blood.
"Sonofabitch!" He kicked himself for not checking for signs of life earlier. Instead he had let this poor girl bleed out, practically alone in some long abandoned house. He had been distracted by Sam and the innocent girl paid for Dean's mistake. Suddenly realizing how much time had passed and that Sam had been outside by the car for far too long on his own, Dean gathered his duffel bag and the flashlight and left the room.
Sam straightened as he watched his brother emerge from the house. Noticing immediately how pale Dean was, he edged around the car to meet his brother by the trunk. Dean unlocked the trunk, threw everything in, slammed the lid, and then got behind the wheel, all without saying a word. Hearing the engine turn over, Sam quickly climbed into the passenger seat.
"Dean, I'm sorry. I should have helped. I-" Sam paused. Although he had yet to shift the car into drive, Dean was gripping the wheel tight. Staring into the middle distance, he didn't appear to be listening either. Looking closer, Sam saw that his brother's hands and jeans were bloody. His heartbeat tripped as he reached out to touch his brother's right forearm to get his attention. "Dean, you okay? What happened?"
Without turning his head, Dean rolled his eyes in Sam's direction. "She was still alive." Dean continued in a flat tone, "I tried to help…it was too little, too late. But she had a parting message."
His brother's odd behavior now explained, Sam was at a loss as to what to say to counteract the deep guilt he knew Dean felt for being unable to save the girl. They had used Ruby's knife a few times before but they had never had the possessed person survive the death of the demon. It had become too easy to forget the demon and the host body were two separate entities. "What'd she say?"
Dean sighed heavily and turned to his brother with troubled eyes. "She looked right at me and said, 'Wants you.' and 'Help him kill'." After a few beats of silence, "What'd the demon say to you?"
Sam turned to gaze out the passenger window. "She had me pinned until she was close enough to get a good look at me. Then she said 'You're him, I didn't realize' and…uh, she started to say 'If I had known…', then you came in."
"Well, that can't be good." Dean shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the curb. "Do you think she could have been one of the demons who were prepared to follow you? That would explain her fear, she just threw her supposedly soon-to-be future leader across the room. Probably figured she was on your shit list now."
Sam's eyes shifted to his brother. "If that's the case, how do you figure into it? Who are you supposed to help kill?"
Dean briefly met his brother's gaze, and replied in a quiet voice, "Do you think this has something to do with why I'm back? The reason I was pulled from the pit?"
Sam's breath caught in his throat. For a split second, when Dean looked his way, Sam could see the stark fear in his brother's eyes and it made his blood run cold. He was aware that Dean was still grappling with his return from hell. Sam continued to bare witness to his brother's occasional nightmares and sleepless nights. Seeing a flash of Dean's unmasked vulnerability and feeling his own helplessness were jarring, to say the least.
The brothers and Bobby had searched endlessly for answers to the who, how, and why of the situation. The only thing that made any sense was that a demon had to be involved. Suffice it to say, Dean was not comfortable with the possibility that he was some demon's bitch.
"Look, Dean, right now we don't have enough information. There could be a million different reasons behind what she said. Let's find a place to stay for the night and try to figure this out in the morning." Sam silently willed his brother to drop this for now.
"Okay, Sammy." Dean reached forward to turn the radio on, effectively ending the conversation with the too loud strains of Styx's Renegade. Before long, both brothers were lost in their own thoughts and fears.
