Welcome back! This is the second 'Ficisode' of four new adventures in my re-write of season 8. If you haven't read Ficisode 1 – Still They Ride – I suggest you do before reading this as there are ongoing elements that carry through. As stated in my forward of that fic, I am erasing Season 8 from my mind, attempting to create a new mytharc, with both boys in character, no contrived drama between them, culminating into a launching pad for Season 9. I hope you enjoy my therapy.

Kevin Isn't Too Far Away

Act I

The warehouse was damp and drafty, and Kevin was cold. He rubbed his eyes, sat back in the chair and rolled his neck, trying to work out the kinks that had formed over the last few hours. He slouched in the uncomfortable plastic chair and stared over the top of the small workspace at the two demons by the door. They stared right back.

God, this sucked.

Ever since Crowley had nabbed him from SucriCorp, right under Sam Winchester's nose, he'd been stuck in the crappy old warehouse, nothing to do but work on this new tablet until he feared his head would explode. It's not like he didn't find it interesting – after all, how many people could say they were reading the Word of God? The actual Word of God. But come on! Every day, under guard, not allowed to go out , get up for anything besides a bathroom break or to sleep. Nobody could live like this.

If he'd had a choice he would be studying for a calculus final or something… anything... But no, turns out being a prophet is a huge pain in the ass. You don't get to go to college, you don't get to have friends. Instead, you get to sit in a creepy abandoned building, being stared at by two black-eyed WWF rejects, trying to decipher scrawling on a tablet from thousands of years ago.

Fun times.

He wished he could have some kind of outside contact with… anyone. His mom must be going nuts by now. She'd probably called the cops, hung posters, hell even had a press conference trying to find him.

And the Winchesters… he was pretty sure they were looking for him, too. Right?

He'd watched Dean and his angel buddy disappear into oblivion when they stabbed Dick Roman, but he had no idea what that meant. Was Dean dead? He had a hard time thinking of the hunter that way. Dean, despite his sports metaphors and the whole Fast & Furious mentality, seemed like a capable guy. It was hard to believe he could just be gone. Poof! Just like that.

Of course, Sam was still kicking – Kevin had been standing right next to him one minute, and then here in this dismal old warehouse the next. Before he could get his brain in gear and make a break for it, Crowley had appeared, smiling and acting as if he was a long lost uncle who was offering Kevin a chance at the family fortune.

Kevin had not seen the sun since.

He wasn't sure how long it'd been – a couple months at least – and the no phone, no internet rule was starting to wear thin. He hadn't gone this long without some kind of outlet in years. He didn't even have his violin to take the edge off. Crowley was only interested in results.

Food, water and demands. That's all Kevin had received. Crowley wasn't interested in coddling him. He didn't care if Kevin was happy. He only cared that Kevin could give him the information he wanted. And if he couldn't? The teenager didn't want to think about that. Crowley scared the crap out of him.

So Kevin had decided to give him exactly what he was asking for.

Unfortunately for the King of Hell, the results were a bit… bogus. But despite his fear, there was no way in hell he was going to tell Crowley exactly what was on this tablet. It was all about how to kill demons.

He was fairly sure the king of the demons wouldn't be thrilled knowing there was a 'how to' book out there on killing demons – even if it was written in an ancient language that only one person could decipher. So, instead, Kevin had sold him a load of crap about how this tablet held a spell that would open up all the gates of Hell at once, allowing all demonkind to walk the earth.

Crowley had been thrilled.

Kevin had called upon his drama department-honed acting skills and sold it with just the right amount of fear and despair, relieved Crowley had bought the ruse. Of course, since Kevin was the only prophet alive who could read the tablet, it wasn't like the demon could run out and get a second opinion. So Crowley was operating on trust. Trust that he'd sufficiently cowed Kevin enough to make him do what he was supposed to do.

The demon had obviously never had to deal with an Advanced Placement student.

Kevin had been doling out a list of ingredients, some real, some not, trying to make it impossible for Crowley to figure out what he was actually doing. The demons would pop in and out as he requested certain things, most of which made little sense to the prophet. But since only a few of them were necessary for what he was truly building, he was having fun with it.

Yesterday, a demon had dropped off excrement from a Werewolf, which accounted for the rank odor that still lingered inside the warehouse. He had no idea where they had found werewolf poop, and didn't ask, but silently relished in the reception the other demons had given the poor sap that had been assigned the task. It's not that he wasn't scared shitless of the demons, but he knew Crowley had left standing orders for him to not be harmed, so toying with them was one of the only forms of entertainment he had left.

"Get to work!" One of the demons called. Kevin had named him Urza, after the planeswalker from Magic the Gathering. The other one was named after Urza's brother, Mishra. They looked nothing alike, but demons were demons. He hadn't noticed a lot of variety in their personalities.

Slumped in his seat, Kevin ignored the gruff demon, feigning a yawn to show how much the order phased him.

"I said, get to work, Prophet!"

"I want to talk to Crowley."

"The boss is busy. You talk to me."

Kevin shook his head. "Nope. I'm not translating another word until Crowley lets me call my mom."

The demon took a threatening step forward but was held back by his partner, who shook his head.

Urza sent a glare toward Kevin, then pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Sorry, to disturb you, sir. But the prophet is asking to call his mother. Says he won't continue until he does." The demon held the phone away from his ear as a cacophony of tinny ranting and growling came from the device. Finally, he nodded and slammed the phone closed. He approached the young prophet, who tensed, cautiously rising from the chair to stand, apprehensive, ready to make a run for it if necessary.

The demon held out his cell phone.

"You have two minutes."

Kevin sighed in relief, his shaking hand reaching out and taking the device from the demon. He took a step back, the chair catching him behind his knees and dropping him onto the hard plastic. He could feel the demon's cold black stare on him as he turned in the chair, and concentrated on the screen. Hoping he had the right number, he cleared his throat nervously, waiting while the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mom," Kevin smiled, his voice shaking as much as his hands. "It's me."

…..

Sam watched his brother. He was pretending to work on the computer, surreptitiously stealing glances at the older man who lay prone on the far bed, knee supported by a pillow, head against the wooden headboard. Dean had hobbled into the motel room, accepting his brother's suggestion they hole up for a while until the notoriety of their crash back onto Terra Firma died down.

After resting for more than 24 hours near Minneapolis, they had set off, deciding to return to Rufus' cabin in Montana where they could decompress and figure out their next move. A stop at a gas station on I-90 just west of Albert Lea had nearly given Sam a heart attack when the local news had run the video from the basilica on their morning news. They'd changed clothes but still wore the same jackets and jeans, and the way the store clerk had eyed them had made Sam more than a little concerned. Hoping the footage would've been forgotten, Sam had jumped on the internet, hijacking the Wi-Fi from a nearby motel, groaning as he realized the footage had gone viral. Not wanting to chance being recognized – the odds being better than he'd thought if the gas station clerk was any indication – they'd decided to hook south, crossing the border into Iowa and checking into a remote motel near Spirit Lake.

After Dean was through making lame yet obvious jokes about the city's name, the older hunter finally settled in and turned on the TV, clicking the remote until he'd finally landed on the E! network. Since then, he'd been quiet, content with entertainment news and a Keeping Up With the Khardashians marathon. When Sam questioned his choice in television viewing, he simply replied he was 're-acclimating' himself to the real world, grabbed another long neck and told Sam to order a pizza with extra cheese.

Two days later, the Khardashians had been replaced by a Star Trek marathon and Dean was beginning to grow restless. Sam knew it was only a matter of time before they'd have to get back on the road, their forced vacation giving way to real life.

He had to admit he'd enjoyed these few days with his brother. For a while, he had been afraid he would never see Dean again. His search for a way to free his brother from Purgatory – along with not even being certain that was where he had ended up – had been frustrating and had tested his resolve more than he cared to admit. He had started to give up hope. He'd never own up to that out loud, much less to Dean, who seemed to believe Sam would never have quit until he had him back safe and sound. He appreciated his brother's blind faith, he just wished he deserved it.

If he hadn't run across the passage about St. Peter's Gate in Bobby's old book when he did, he may not have had the fortitude his brother believed him to possess. He would've forced himself to accept that Dean was gone. He would've never forgiven himself, but he would've tried to live his life in a way that would make Dean proud.

But Winchester luck had taken a break. Sam had found the book, the spell to open the gate, and had been fortunate to find Castiel waiting on the other side. Sam knew that without the angel, he wouldn't have found Dean as quickly as he did. He's not even sure he would've survived long enough to find him. Dean had adapted to the dangerous world where monster's souls preside, but Sam had never been as much of a chameleon as his brother. Dean could fit in anywhere, find a way to survive, but Sam was far too stubborn. He needed to do things his own way. That had always been the basis for the rifts he had with his father, Dean trying to get them both to compromise to little avail. Sam had always believed it was because they were so different from each other. It took him a long time to realize it was because they were so much alike.

His musings were interrupted by the buzzing of his phone lying on the tabletop next to him. Frowning at the unfamiliar number, Sam picked up the device and placed it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mom. It's me."

He recognized the voice instantly. "Kevin?" He straightened in the chair, his eyes locking with his brother's. Dean muted the television at the sound of the prophet's name, his full attention focused on Sam. "Kevin? Where are you? Are you okay?"

He touched the screen, putting the phone on speaker and placed it back onto the table.

"I'm okay, Mom. I'm glad to finally hear your voice." Kevin's voice was shaking and he sounded anything but okay.

"Can you tell us where you are?"

"I don't really know. I just wanted to call so you didn't worry. I know I've been a bit hard to keep track of, but I wanted you to know I'll be home soon. I have to go now, Mom. I hope I see you soon."

Without waiting for a response, the call ended. Sam immediately picked up the phone, checking the number before turning to the laptop.

"Can you track it?" Dean had scooted to the edge of the bed, leaning forward as Sam launched the GPS tracker.

Sam shrugged, his fingers flying over the keyboard. "If it's still on, maybe. This program you got from Frank should work as long as the phone is still active." Sam typed in the number, waiting while the software worked it's magic, locating the device. "There!" Sam pointed as the software changed to a map, a blinking red dot centered over Lincoln, Nebraska.

"What the hell is Crowley doing in Nebraska?" Dean asked as the map changed, growing in detail, giving them a street location.

"I don't know," Sam replied. He quickly jotted down the address and slammed the laptop closed. "But if we get there quick, maybe we can ask him."

….

Kevin handed the phone back to the demon with a tentative smile. The demon grabbed it with disdain and immediately dialed, holding it up to his ear without backing away.

"He's done." The demon said into the phone. After a moment, he held the device out again. "The boss would like a word."

Kevin swallowed hard. It hadn't occurred to him that Crowley may be able to trace his call. He figured with a billion and one demons running around, he wouldn't have the capacity to track all of their cell use. Of course, this one was guarding him…

"Uh, hello?"

"Kevin, my darling boy, how is Mom these days?"

"Uh, fine?" Kevin wasn't sure what to say. He couldn't tell, from just his voice, if Crowley was toying with him or not. Of course, talking to the King of Hell on the phone was much more preferable to talking to him in person.

"I hope you gave her my best." Crowley continued, his voice dripping with false benevolence. "But now that your need for parental contact has been taken care of, how about we get back to business, hmmm?"

"I'm very close –"

"Close isn't good enough, Kevin." Crowley's voice lost the sugar coating and Kevin could detect the anger coming through. "I've been very patient with you, haven't I?"

Kevin simply nodded, not registering that Crowley couldn't see him.

"I can hear your brain sloshing," the demon chuckled. "So I'll take that as affirmative. But Kevin, my patience is not infinite. I have my demons spread thin, covering every gate across this sordid little planet of yours. I expect to hear you've successfully assembled the spell within the next 48 hours or I'll have to do something drastic that either of us will appreciate. Am I making myself perfectly clear?"

Kevin nodded again. "Umm… yeah, um yes."

"Good," the saccharin voice was back and it made Kevin shudder. "48 hours, Kevin. Toodle-loo."

Kevin sighed in relief as he handed the phone back to the demon. He mentally crossed his fingers that they wouldn't realize he'd activated the GPS on the phone while dialing earlier. He prided himself on being able to multitask but this was well beyond his stress levels and he didn't want to think about what Crowley would do if he found out what Kevin was up to. If Sam was as smart as he thought, the hunter would've understood his 'track' message and would be right now finding a way to trace the GPS in the demon's phone. He had no idea where the Winchesters were, so he had no idea how much longer he'd need to stall. Crowley was getting impatient, wanting what he'd been promised months ago, and Kevin now knew he wouldn't be able to stall anymore. Till now, he'd bought Kevin's excuses of having trouble with the language of the tablet – it's not like they had a course on ancient God-speak at the local community college. But time was running out. He already had all the ingredients he needed for what he'd been actually creating, he just needed to buy enough time for the Winchesters to find him.

Then, maybe this nightmare could end.

…..

The warehouse looked abandoned, but Dean spotted movement through one of the broken, boarded up windows on the side of the building that told them it wasn't quite as empty as it seemed. They had no idea how many demons would be inside with Kevin, but the Winchesters were armed with super soakers filled with holy water, salt rounds in their guns and Ruby's knife tucked into Dean's belt.

"Looks like this is the place," he whispered. They had decided to wait until dark, knowing it would be easier to move amongst the shadows. They watched, hidden among some old crates in a nearby lot as a man in a baseball cap and denim jacket approached, delivering a bag with the logo of a local burger joint emblazoned on the side. Since demons didn't enjoy the finer things like bacon cheeseburgers, the hunters were sure the young prophet was inside.

Dean's stomach growled at the thought of the burger, garnering him a look of reproach from his brother. He rolled his eyes in return before once again focusing on the warehouse.

As darkness fell, they crept along the side of the building, finding a broken window near the padlocked rear entrance. With luck, the demons were only guarding the main entrance out front, believing their prisoner secure after all this time. They climbed through the window and dropped stealthily into a small office, moving swiftly to crouch on either side of the doorway. The actual door had been removed and was lying flat against the wall to the left of the opening. Dean leaned out, taking a look into the dim outer room of the warehouse, eyes honing in the object of their mission.

Kevin was in the center of the room in a plastic lawn chair, slumped over a folding table, strewn with papers. There were more sheets of paper as well as books scattered on the floor surrounding the table, along with numerous take-out bags and more than a dozen empty liter cola bottles. At least the kid hadn't starved, but that much caffeine couldn't be good for anyone.

There were two demons standing guard near the front of the building, the baseball capped delivery guy moving back and forth on their side of the warehouse. They ducked as the demon came by, holding their breaths until it had passed. Dean calculated they had less than a minute before it made a return patrol and quickly formed a plan in his head.

Dean exchanged a look with his brother, holding up one hand with three fingers. As he folded the fingers into his hand, effectively counting down, there was a loud bang near the front of the building and he was dismayed to see three new demons enter, each with guns in their hands.

"Damnit," he whispered. He'd hoped this wouldn't get ugly.

Sam was watching him, waiting for a sign. Dean was aware of the demon coming back toward their hiding place and nodded to his brother. At least they'd have the element of surprise. He just hoped Kevin was smart enough to get himself out of the line of fire when the bullets started flying.

As soon as the demon was parallel with the door, Dean gave a nod and both brothers reached out, grabbing a leg, pulling back toward the doorway. The demon fell, Dean immediately on him with Ruby's knife before he could make a sound. Unfortunately, there was no cover in the empty warehouse and their attack had not gone unnoticed. A shout went up from one of the other demons, and the hunters steeled themselves for the battle.

Before they could take more than a few steps through the doorway, Kevin stood, turned and screamed for them to cover their eyes. Not knowing what the little geek had planned, but trusting that he wasn't simply screaming for screamings sake, they each did as they were told and held an arm up to cover their faces. A bright light flashed on the other side of the warehouse, stinging their eyes despite the protection. When they looked up, the warehouse was empty, save for one prophet wearing a smug, satisfied expression.

The hunters exchanged a look of confusion before making their way to where Kevin stood, rolling on the balls of his feet, looking extremely pleased with himself. The demons were gone, but there were five silhouettes burned into the wall of the warehouse, reminding Dean of the Rorschach test he'd been forced to take when he and Sam had helped Martin Creaser kill a wraith in the looney bin. The hunter stared at the shadows, eerily reminded of the ones he'd encountered in Purgatory. He stifled a shudder at the comparison.

"What the hell was that?"

"The Tran Demon Bomb," Kevin replied with a grin. "I call it a TDB for short."

Sam was impressed. "Kevin, that's… amazing! How did you make it?"

Kevin picked up a familiar looking stone tablet from the table. "From this."

"The Leviathan tablet?" Sam inquired.

Kevin shook his head. "This one is different. It's all about demons." His smile widened at the hunters' twin looks of surprise. "How to kill 'em, how to send them back to Hell."

A noise outside the warehouse made them all tense. Dean pointed his gun at the entrance, but nothing moved. After a moment he relaxed his stance, tilting a head to his brother, indicating they should move out.

Sam nodded. "I'm sure you're dying to tell us all about it, Kevin, but what do you say we get the hell out of here before Crowley realizes what just happened and sends more goons our way?"

…..

It had only taken a moment to pack up the research Kevin needed along with the tablet and two additional demon bombs – or TDB's as the prophet insisted on calling them. Once they were in the Impala, miles from the abandoned warehouse and back onto the highway, Dean finally relaxed. He eyed Kevin in the rearview mirror.

"So, how'd you get away, kid?"

Kevin, who had been staring out through the rear window, watching for any signs of pursuit, turned and dropped into the cool leather seat, slumping down contentedly. "I let Crowley think I was creating a spell to open all the gates of Hell."

"And he bought that?"

Kevin shrugged. "It's not like he could read over my shoulder."

Sam chuckled, sitting sideways in the front passenger seat. "So you conned the King of Hell into believing you were making something to let all demons up top, and you were actually making demon bombs?"

Kevin smiled smugly. "TDBs"

"Tran Demon bombs," Sam agreed. He exchanged a look of wonder with his brother, who snorted a laugh and shook his head.

"But that's not all the tablet says," Kevin continued. He reached for the top of the seat and pulled himself forward. "There's instructions on how to build a TDA."

"TDA?" Dean parroted, his eyes shifting between the mirror and the road.

"The Tran Demon Annihilator," Kevin said with a satisfied smirk.

The hunters exchanged another look of surprise. "Come again?"

Kevin sank back into the seat and crossed his arms over his chest. "The Tran Demon Annihilator," he repeated in answer to Dean's question. "It's a spell, I've been working on the list of components, and I'm halfway there."

"And what exactly does this… TDA?" Sam's brows rose in question, waiting for Kevin's nod before continuing. "What does this TDA do?"

"It will send all demons on earth back to Hell."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

"Forever?"

Kevin's grin faded. "I'm not sure. The spell can only be used on the summer Solstice, but so far, I haven't found anything to say whether it's a permanent solution or if it has to be done every year to keep the demons away." He shrugged apologetically. "It's not like this stupid tablet is written in English. It's been a bitch trying to figure out what passed for slang thousands of years ago. "

"Well," Dean said after a few moments of silence. "Whether it nukes them for good or just sends them back to home base for a while, it'll definitely put a kink in their plans."

Sam snorted derisively, "Or just piss them off."

Dean shrugged a shoulder and gave his brother a grin. "They're demons, Sam. It's not like they're thinking of kittens and fluffy bunnies to begin with." He glanced up, catching the young prophet's eyes in the mirror. "Good job, Einstein."

Kevin smiled at the praise, then shifted his eyes back to the road in front of the big Chevy. "Where are we going?"

"To the cabin," Sam responded, holding up a hand before Kevin could complain. The slow connection they'd had to deal with in Montana had been a problem for them all since they'd made it their base of operations. The solution had been surprisingly easy. "It's isolated, easy to defend and warded against demons. You'll be able to work safely there." He pulled a mobile Wi-Fi device from his pocket and handed it to the teenager. "We even got you faster internet access."

Dean chuckled. "Now you and Sammy can geek out to your hearts' content."

Kevin accepted the device with a satisfied nod. "Think we could get cable?"

TBC…