Well ... this story ain't as easy to write as i actually thought ...
but there we go with the first chapter. I know my first chapters suck mostly
WARNINGS: UNRELATED!WINCEST, mentions of abuse (maybe rape, not sure about that yet), torture, there'll be hot stuff in future chapters, rated!M!just!to!be!sure, this is a LOVE!STORY, what means you won't find a lot of slash in here
DISCLAIMER: not mine & no beta
you guys know these vehicles that operate with cow dung? Well, I operate with BACON!
Fall Of Darkness
Chapter 1 ~ Sacrificed
They had teamed up in the Roadhouse. It was early in the morning, so no one beside them was there and Ellen had decided to keep the bar closed until the job was done, what meant that there'd be no money earned. But she had to go with them and be there. - Dean was clear about it, that there was a chance that her daughter Jo was there. Jo had been taken when she was three years old. Taken by monsters. Creatures of the dark. Better said black-eyed bitches aka demons. So yeah, she had to go with them since there was a chance to get her daughter back.
Dean Winchester, an old friend of hers, had found a nest down in Wyoming, in an abandoned church. He had been there. Had seen them. Had counted them and prepared everything for the big night, like the demons had prepared everything for theirs. Dean knew that they had planned something. That something was going on. Something big. Something they had to stop before it was too late. Demons didn't team up, except there was something special that had to be done.
Over all of that he had seen three of them. Three that didn't quiet look like demons. Three "somethings" that seemed to be thru hell and back and the hunter could only imagine that the kind of world they were living in wasn't quiet Disneyland. All of them seemed starved and dehydrated by the looks of it. There were two young men. A tall one, with long chestnut-brown hair that covered half of his dirty face, hiding a pair of green hazel-eyes. And a pretty short one. Shorter as Dean was. The state of this one was hard to tell. His eyes seemed empty and hollow – he pretty much had given up already, the hunter could tell. One of these humans was a girl. Long blonde hair and brown big eyes, filled with fear and despair. She definitely seemed to know what was coming. She wasn't that starved and didn't seem to be in a bad physically state than the two men were. Probably because she was a girl ... and the demons didn't like to bang (Dean Winchesters words – just not using his choice of words in front of Ellen) bony girls.
Bobby, Ellen, Caleb and Pastor Jim were waiting for their leader, Dean Winchester. He was a professional when it came to demons. No one knew them better than him. No one hunted them better than him. He was the one who had found the lead on those evil sons of bitches. He was the one who had the knowledge and the plan to get in there without risking their own lives. Not even a Winchester with the backup of four others was able to face twenty-seven demons on their own.
There was a simple reason why he didn't have called more hunters. He surely would've got a couple more to support them. But he didn't trust the others. And trust was something Dean Winchester didn't share with everyone. Just a few chosen like Bobby, Ellen, Caleb and Pastor Jim had earned it over the years.
Anyways, the waiting friends heard the roar of Dean Winchesters Impala as he drove on the parking area in front of Ellen's sanctuary for hunters. Ellen put on a strained smile and took a deep inhale. She was so full of hope to see her daughter tonight again – after twenty-two years of searching and grief it was time to have a little bit of luck. Just this one time, she'd give everything to see her little girl again. And by the words of Dean there was a pretty huge possibility, that the girl in the church could be her daughter.
Bobby laid a hand on Ellen's shoulder and smiled reassuring, giving her a hopeful look. The woman wasn't one to show her feelings. Damn it, she was the toughest huntress anyone had ever seen, with a poker face every player was afraid of.
Short after the roaring died the door swung open and a 6'1" tall man, in a dark brown leather leather jacket, jeans and a plaid shirt entered. His heavy boots letting every footfall echo thru the empty roadhouse, like low drum-beats. He stroke snowflakes from his short cut hair and shook his limbs out after the long drive. Then he loosened the thick scarf that was slung around his neck and looked at the small crew at the bar. A cheeky smirk built on his lips and emerald-green orbs shone bright at them.
"Sorry for the long wait.", he said low and sniffed, "The weather's a pain in the ass."
The four nodded and gave him strained smiles. They didn't hunt a bunch of demons every day. Not like Dean Winchester did.
"Good to see you, hon.", Ellen gave him a warm smile, and set an empty glass on the bar, filling it with blue label whiskey. "How's the drive been?"
"Slow. - I guess we'll have to get our asses moving if we wanna be there before tomorrow night." He grimaced and sighed, then the sight of the filled whiskey-glass made his eyes lit up again. "Ellen, you're the best."
She chuckled. "It's on the house. - This time."
"Hey, that's unfair. - Why do we have to pay for it?", Caleb throw in and raised his arms in protest.
"Because Dean's the one who's the demon-hunter.", she gave back and arched both eyebrows. "And he's the one who probably found my girl.", she gave the newly arrived hunter a thankful look.
"Ellen – look-", Dean started and sighed, as he shoved his frozen buttocks on the bar-stool.
"I know.", she raised a hand to stop him. "But you try. - And that's a whole lotta more than i could ever ask for."
Dean nodded understanding and gave her a weak smile. "So you guys are ready?", he asked encouraging and gulped the whiskey down his throat in one long swallow.
"Sure.", Pastor Jim nodded. "You sure this will work?"
The hunter grinned and nodded, looking at the empty glass. "Damn sure. - It's proofed and it'll work. I've prepared the loudspeakers and covered them. - We just need Bobby's generator to get the transmitter going. - After we salted the doors we'll switch them on, and the exorcism will do it's work. - Then we go in and clean up the mess, gettin' out the three of them. - Me and Caleb will set the fire, and the rest is heading back to the motel, where we'll meet up to check how it'll go on."
All of them nodded in union. "I'm sorry, Jim." He turned to the pastor who was wearing his civilian clothes, listening warily to Deans explanations. "I know you don't like the idea of burning down a church. - But in this case ... We can't bury 27 or more corpses ..."
"I know ... i do understand, but ...", the Pastor sighed and shook his head in disapproval. "It's a house of god - nonetheless."
Then there was silence. Dean emptied a second glass of whiskey and they headed outside, where two pick-up-trucks – one of Bobby and one of Ellen – and the Impala were parked.
Caleb went with Ellen, and Pastor Jim with Bobby while Dean took the role of the leader of the small convoy, heading west.
It took them fourteen hours streight with small breaks until they reached Lysite, Wyoming. A small town in the middle of nowhere, not far away from the church, half an hour outside of the town.
They got settled in a small motel that laid pretty close to the highway, paying for two days and nights streight.
To save money, Bobby and Dean took a room with two single-beds and Caleb and Pastor Jim took another one, while Ellen got her own. They had another 18 hours until they would have to head towards the church.
After each one of them had gotten some sleep, they met up again the next morning. Ate their breakfast together and worked on a back-up-plan, wich they needed if anything would go wrong. The church was pretty much the only building out there, besides an abandoned farm. Dean had checked it out the night before, so he was sure that no demons had holed up there while he was gone. Later they checked their bag, sorting out the things that might be useful. Including stuffed up first-aid-kits.
They left the rest in their cars and hidden arsenals.
Darkness had settled over the land as two pick-up-trucks and a black Impala disappeared in a side road, not far from their destination. They made the remaining two miles on their feet. Through thick scrubs of the forested area around the building they were targeting, carrying Bobby's generator with them.
It took them half an hour to get there, lurking out of the darkness and taking in the surroundings. There were no cars, no signs, that anyone was there accept the dim light that came thru the colorful windows of the wrecked building.
The hunters sat the generator down and Caleb and Dean went for their task to salt the two exits of the church. As they returned, they called the generator with a simple push on a red button to life, pumping gas and producing the electricity for the transmitter that was connected to Deans phone to send a signal to the wireless loudspeakers. The loudspeakers Dean had installed three days ago inside the church in the room that was once a priest's office and the ones he had fitted in the alcove behind the statue of a crying marble-made angel.
It was so loud, that even the hunters – who waited outside in the shadows - were able to hear the exorcism spell. As the tape stopped, and the cries and yelling had died, they left their coverage and narrowed the church warily with drawn weapons.
Even if the exorcism had made his job, there was no guarantee that all the black-eyed monsters inside were dead. Dean knew, because he once had to do with some of these hellbound creatures before, and they had simply locked themselves in their hosts. What meant he either found the mark that prevented the bitch from smoking out, or he had to kill the demon, including its host.
Pastor Jim opened the big heavy oak-door with a high-pitched squeak as the wood scratched over the dirty marvel-tiles. One after another slipped in, darting with their weapons thru the room, ready to attack whatever was still alive.
And as Dean had hoped. No one of the demons seemed to care about locking themselves into their hosts. Everyone of them started to check on the bodies, that mustered the floor. The human vessels, wasted by the demons draining powers, were all dead.
They made their way towards the altar, behind whom a giant cross had been raised.
At the beginning no one had noticed it. It actually had looked like a pretty dirty figure of the crucified man above their heads. But Dean, Dean took a closer look, since he couldn't remember that there had been a body on this cross before. Not three days ago. Not as he was installing the loudspeakers. It was then, when he realized that it wasn't a wooden figure on the cross. It was then, when he realised the labored rise and fall of the young mans chest, whose feet were tied to the cross, and iron shackles were holding his body in position. It was then when Dean recognized the dump shaggy chestnut-brown mop on the mans head, and the slinky legs and arms.
"Holy shit.", he muttered to himself and drew the others attention towards him. "Hey!", he called over his shoulder, not letting the crucified figure out of his watch. "Help me get the table closer to the crucifix!", he yelled impatiently.
Caleb and Jim were by his side in an instant and helped him to move the heavy wooden altar closer to the cross, until it touched the wooden pole.
"It's an altar Dean.", Jim muttered and looked at the young hunter reproachfully. "Not a table."
But the hunter didn't listen. He jumped on the altar and reached up at the mans neck, feeling for something. That was when the others realized. Realized that this was a human on the cross. All of them stared up to him and Dean with an intense what-the-fuck-look.
"He's alive.", Deans face crossed a small smile.
Bobby was beside him in an instant, fumbling for his lock pick in the inner pocket of his jacket, while he took the shackles in. These weren't usual shackles. There were engravings on them. As far as he could tell it were demonic ones. Shackles that were used to bind demonic-powers. He hesitated, glancing at the young man and then at the hunter beside him.
"I'm not sure if we should do that." Bobby looked back at the engraved sigils.
"What?", the younger hunter frowned at Bobby and then looked at the shackles himself. Then he glanced at the young man, his fingers still covering the neck and the weak pulse below his skin.
"You think ..." He bit his lower lip and shook his head. "Check him for the mark.", he ordered, taking in the young mans features, as he stroke bangs of hair out of his face.
He knew he should know better. Dean hunted demons since the very beginning of his career. He knew how they were hiding, how they were playing roles and that they were lying and faking the truth.
After Bobby had examined the young mans body, he shook his head. "Nothin'.", he stated and got a nod from Dean to pick the locks.
Probably they had exorcised whatever demon was in the poor bastards body.
Dean wrapped his arms around the battered torso, feeling the cold skin on his palms and on his exposed neck, as the limp body sank against the hunters. He caught the young mans full weight, when his old friend cut his ankles free. Dean turned around, with the man who was at least 6"4' tall and 160 lbs heavy. Though he felt and looked much to light for a guy of his size. Time for the hunter to curse internally at the damn black-eyed monsters and damn himself for not trying and get the job done earlier. But he knew they had to wait. Wait until all of them were in the church, so they wouldn't miss anyone.
He handled the younger man to Ellen and Caleb below, while Pastor Jim spread his coat out on the cold floor, where the both placed him. All the young man wore was a half torn boxershort with a whole lot of undefinable dried moisture on them. It was a pitiful appearance. Starved, dehydrated and littered with bruises and cuts from tip to toe. Some seemed to be older, some fresh ...
Dean jumped from the altar, so did Bobby. Both kneeled down beside the unconscious man, while Pastor Jim checked on his injuries.
"Except that he's half starved and probably dehydrated ... there aren't any visibly lethal injuries. Nothing seems to be broken. Though ... it looks like he lost a good amount of blood earlier." The pastor and ex army doc pointed at the gashes on his torso, before Ellen threw her thick winter-coat over the young mans body. "Hypothermia is one of his biggest problems i think."
There was a movement behind the younger mans eyelids. "Hey, kid.", Ellen's smoky voice sounded unusual soft. "Open your eyes, honey." She laid a hand on his pale cheek and rubbed a thump over his cheekbone. "C'mon. - You're save now."
It took him a couple of moments longer, then his eyes fluttered open and deep green hazel-eyes surfaced behind overlong chestnut-brown bangs.
Oh God, everything hurt. Everything hurt so bad, he just wanted to die. Right here, right now. He wanted this to end – finally. He didn't want to live like that anymore. Never again. He'd chose death above any life anyone could probably promise him. Even if it meant a slow one. All the agony and pain. All the things he wanted to forget and just shove away. And to be honest ... somehow he was disappointed that someone had exorcised the damn demon from its host who was supposed to stab him with the atame.
He tried to talk, to tell them where they were. He knew these people had to be hunters. He knew they were here to kill the demons, and him with them, as soon as they knew for what they had brought him here. And if they wouldn't kill him, they'd do worse things to him for sure. Despite everything, they had to know. He had to tell them. Had to tell them to look for the others. The others like him. Andy and Jo, if he remembered their names right. - Damn it, it had been too long that he was able to talk to them. apparently they didn't remember their names anymore after a while, as he had tried to call out for them a couple of hours ago. He couldn't remember his own name either. At least not at the moment. Besides he was too tired for this shit. Didn't hunters had better things to do than ask monsters for their names?
He saw their curious looks and expressions on their faces. All of them looked pretty nice ... at least until they'd figure out that he wasn't quite human. Damn it, he didn't know what he was. He just knew he wasn't like others people. Though ... this wasn't relevant right now.
Relevant was, that they'd find the other both. They might were still alive. So he tried to force his vocal cords to work. But all what came out was a dry croak of something not even he realized as his own voice.
Dean eyed the young man under him, trying to figure out what he wanted to say, what he wanted to tell them.
"Hey, slow down, kiddo.", Dean said calmly and tried to smile, despite the horrible look before him. "Try and move your lips, I'll understand."
The young mans eyes started to tear up and a dry sob left his throat. Then he started to try and form the words, trying to mouth "Others" and "Farm" and "storm cellar". And by the third try Dean had figured out what the man below him wanted to say.
"Others.", Dean mumbled to himself and looked up, then back down at the hurt man. "Are there Demons?"
It took the young man a while to tell his body what to do, but finally he gave the hunters a short no.
A relieved Christo came over Bobby's lips. And there was nothing the young man could've done against what happened next. His eyes flashed black ... just like that.
Dean Winchester sucked in a deep breath thru his nose, the others caught oxygen in their lungs and held it, inching back from the young man on the floor.
"Damn it." A split second later the Winchester drew his demon-killing-knife and set its tip on the young mans chest, looking into pleading hazel-eyes, wich seemed to shout "do it" at him.
He knew this would've come sooner or later. Better sooner he had decided as soon as he heard the breathed Christo of the bearded man to his feet. He felt the tip of something sharp peeking into his chest right over his heart and inhaled as deep as he could, feeling it digging lightly in his skin, drawing blood. He prayed – and god knew he didn't pray. But this time he prayed. Prayed for god to end his gethsemane.
"Do it.", his mouthed words carried silently on a breath. "Save the others." He tried to convince the green-eyed man above him with his gaze. Tried to lay every single emotion he felt into his green orbs. Adding a nearly unhearable "Please".
But it never came. There was no searing pain, no blade that released him from this life. Instead he felt as the cold steel disappeared from his chest.
"Does it want to die?", Caleb muttered in disbelieve.
"Could be a trap.", Jim answered quietly, who now seemed to be completely untouched by the young mans condition.
Dean eyed the man below him, holding his pleading gaze, trying to gather his thoughts and make up his mind what to do. Obviously it was a demon. But why the hell should demons crucifix another demon? And why didn't he get exorcised if there was no binding mark on his body? His thoughts started to race a hundred miles per hour, running thru all the possibilities how a demon could be stuck in its host. Other than thru the mark.
"Holy water.", Dean muttered and held a hand over his shoulder. A moment later Bobby laid a flask in his palm, and the younger hunter opened it with his teeth. Then he uncovered the mans torso and emptied the whole flask on his chest and stomach, but nothing happened. No smoking, no agonizing screams. It obviously didn't bother him, except letting him shiver from the cold air.
The hunter threw the flask aside.
Another pleading silent "Please" left the younger mans lips.
Dean Winchester was sure ... whatever THIS was, it didn't seem to human, nor a demon. He put the knife back where it had came from, just to see the outrageous disappointment in the young mans darkened hazel-orbs. "No.", Dean muttered to himself and shook his head lightly.
A single tear ran over the young mans cheeks.
"Caleb, Bobby, Jim, Ellen.", Dean spoke with unsteady voice. "Take one of the pick-up-trucks", he didn't leave his eyes from the young man, "and check the farm out. - If it's not lying we might find the other both there." Now he glanced at Ellen, hoping that the girl was her Jo.
"You wanna stay here?", Bobby asked in a mix of disbelieve and concern. "Alone?"
Dean nodded. "It doesn't look like it's dangerous. - At least not at the moment." He gave the others a hesitating smile. "I'll get it into the car and follow you to the farm in the meantime."
Though the Winchester wasn't sure why he wanted to care about the thing. Why he had the urge to get it warmed up as soon as possible and somewhere more comfortable as the marble tiles under him.
As soon as the others had left, Dean bowed over the young man, who was now barely conscious, fading in and out, obviously fighting to keep control, trying not to drift away.
"Hey. - You have a name?", Dean asked and tried to catch the thing'ss gaze. But it didn't react. After a while had passed and no answer was given, he decided to just get it into the Impala. First he was thinking about the trunk ... but then ... besides this thing was damn tall and would probably choke in there – if it was able to choke – and the trunk wouldn't do its bruises any good, he decided to put it on the backseat.
The hunter let out a deep sigh and laid a hand on the mans cheek. "Hey, you.", he started and frowning over his own hesitation. "I'll carry you to the car. - So don't ... Just don't puke in my baby and don't mess around while we're driving." Dean wasn't sure if it understood him, nor if it even realized that someone was talking to it, but he did as he had told the thing.
He slipped with his arms under its knees and back and lifted it with a strained grunt. This thing was heavy, but for sure not as heavy as it should have been when he considered its height. "Damn it.", Dean muttered to himself as he took the first few steps towards the heavy oak-door.
The thing's head lolled against his shoulder, and he felt shallow warm breaths brushing over his neck. Every breath sent a tingling feeling down the hunters spine and let him shudder a little bit. It wasn't a daily event to save monsters from freezing to death or bleeding out ... or saving monsters in general.
That was when he remembered that the Impala was parked two miles away and another growled curse left his throat. Instantly the creature in his arms tensed noticable and let out a silent whimper. It felt like IT tried to curl up in his arms, while the creatures palm rested against his chest and pushed weakly, as it would try to get away from him.
"Didn't meant you." Dean whispered apologizing and tugged the human figure closer.
That was when he heard a familiar roar from the outside, coming fast closer. The Impala.
Dean made the last few steps that led him outside the holy building and stared into the night, where he saw two bright white orbs narrowing. Wich he defined as his beloved baby, as the car stopped nearly in front of Dean and the creature in his arms.
"Get in, lad.", he heard Caleb's familiar voice, as the door slammed open and his old friend jogged towards the trunk.
"Forget about that. - It's too big.", he said and made his first few steps thru the ankle-high snow. "Backseat."
Caleb nodded hesitantly. "Sure? - I mean ... it may looks pretty beaten up but ... we both know that means nothing." He seemed to wait for approval or something because he didn't move.
"Backseat.", Dean repeated and glanced at the creature in his arms once more, feeling as it started to tremble and shudder.
Caleb nodded, clearly disapproval written all over his face. "OK.", he growled and opened the door to the backseat. "I've warned you – in case it's ripping your throat out."
Dean narrowed and waited until Caleb had made space, before he let the creatures long legs slide down. He had hoped that it would take a little of its own weight, but it didn't.
"Get one of the blankets from the trunk.", Dean told his friend, "and cover the backseat with it."
His friend did as he was told and finally Dean was able to get rid of the weight, that tore at his muscles.
As gentle as possible, the hunter sat the tall thing into the car, helped it getting its feet inside and then hurried to the other side of the car to pull his torso further up on the backseat so it'd lay more comfortable. Caleb watched him closely, a little bit confused looking, and muttered a silent Christo just to be sure that the Winchester wasn't possessed by something.
"Need some help over there?", he asked as he heard the Winchester grunt, while he lifted the creature's head up to stuff his leather-jacket as a makeshift pillow under its head.
"No.", came a sighed respond. Then Dean hurried back to the trunk and pulled two other blankets out, hurrying around the car again and covering the thing with them.
"Are you done yet?" Caleb seemed kind of distressed and unsure.
Well ... Dean Winchester was too, but deep down he had the feeling that he did the right thing. "Yes.", he replied and slammed the doors to the backseat shut and slit behind the steering wheel. The Farm wasn't that far away. Just about fifteen minutes.
"Since when do we put monsters on our backseats?" Caleb stared at the man behind the wheel, taking him in closely, like he wanted to read his mind.
"You sure that it's one?", Dean asked back and his gaze tore away from the icy road into the rearview mirror, checking on the thing back there.
"You saw its eyes?", Caleb countered.
"Yeah ... i saw its eyes. - Though ... this whole thing is weird, isn't it? - Because if he's something, that means the girl ... Ellen's daughter is a monster too." Dean bit his lower lip. " - AND we don't know what they were up to in the church. - Maybe he knows something." The hunter rose both eyebrows and gave Caleb a confident look.
His friend just nodded and sighed, throwing a glance by himself into the rearview mirror. "Sure thing."
Deans lips formed into a hard line. He just hoped he did the right thing, and that his gut-feeling wouldn't betray him on this.
As they arrived at the farm, Ellen, Pastor Jim and Bobby stood in front of the building. Ellen leant against the Pastor, who had wrapped his arms around the violently shaking woman.
"Fuck.", Caleb cursed before Dean even had a chance. Both of them knew what it meant. - Either the girl was Ellen's daughter and dead, or the girl wasn't Ellen's daughter and dead. Both opinions were completely unacceptable ... but a possibility.
As both of the hunters emerged from the car, Bobby was already on his way towards them, just shaking his head and pressing his lips together. His lips obviously mouthed the name "Jo."
Dean swallowed and closed his eyes for a second. Just to try and sort out things in his mind ... what was completely nonsense, because he couldn't sort out anything at the moment. Not with all the racing thoughts, a hurt creature on the backseat and a crying Ellen four yards away from him. And not with a buttload of questions on wich he didn't have any answers for.
As he opened his eyes again, Ellen was on her way towards him. Her movements were furious and loaded with grief. It seemed like she took a run-up to break someones nose with her fist. Two more long strides and she stood in front of Dean, looking up in his deep emerald-green eyes. "Caleb. - You drive my car, i'll go with Dean and the boy.", she said gently, but with fury in her eyes.
Her look, her eyes ... it was like Dean could read it all in them. - She had figured what he had figured. That her daughter had to be the same thing as the man on his backseat was. That was why they had been there, why they had took them so many years ago.
"Sure.", Dean said, not daring to gainsay anything.
She didn't need more. Ellen walked around the car and took a deep breath before she opened the door to the backseat where the young mans head rested. She lifted him gently and sat down, arranging the young man, so that his head rested on her lab instead of the makeshift pillow of Deans jacket, which she tossed onto the passenger's seat.
He looked at Bobby who gave him a knowing look. They had to talk about what had happened tonight and figure out what was going on. Because there was no way in heaven or hell that Demons held a coffee party in a church to crucifix a guy.
His eyes flashed black as he entered the abandoned church and saw what the hunters had done. The man clenched his yaw as his gaze flew over the empty hosts on the floor and towards the empty cross, wich made his nostrils flare and dots of pure white rage danced in his vision.
"Mine.", he growled and clenched his hands into fists until the knuckles of his host turned white. "No one takes away what's MINE.", he repeated as he bowed down over something that gleamed in the spare illuminated room. With a devilish smile he picked up the atame and held it into the spare light, eying the sharp blade.
... to be continued
sooo ... HOW AM I DOING?
BACON BACON BACON BACON BACON BACON BACON
