Author's Note: I decided that I couldn't leave you guys hanging until 2013, so Happy New Years! I want to thank julefor, jokergirl94, Araina Richardson, Stone120, BranchSuper, Shorty22133, PsychoPicasso, KnightJelly, sarah, Eliza Ghost, and Wunjo for their awesome reviews.
Chapter Three: Changing Destiny?
Yellow eyes focused on the small boy, who stood bravely in front of the demon. Well, at least Dean hoped that he appeared brave. Inside he was terrified. He stood absolutely no chance against Azazel and they both knew it.
"Go back to bed, kid. This is all just a bad dream."
"Yeah, I don't think so."
The demon possessed man tilted his head, obviously curious about the child's reaction. Probably not what he expected from a four year old.
"There's something about you…"
"We've met before." Dean stated. "Think real hard and maybe it'll come to you."
Azazel studied him but there was no recognition.
Dean smirked. "I look a bit different but we met ten years ago. You possessed my grandfather. Killed both him and his wife. Then you killed my dad but made a deal with my mom to bring him back. Any of this ringing a bell?"
"I remember. But how do you?"
"I have friends in high places, remember? An angel on my shoulder, I believe you called him."
"But... no, you haven't lived through that yet."
"Oh, you'd be surprised at the crap that I've lived through." Dean revealed. "But I've also had some good times too. Killing your ass being a major highlight. And now, I'm gonna do it again. This time before you screw with my family."
This produced a creepy smile on the face of the guy that Azazel was wearing. "I don't know how you are aware of your future, but it doesn't matter. You are a mere child. You have no hope against me."
Dean opened his mouth to continue the verbal sparring match when he was suddenly thrown against the wall by an invisible force. The boy found himself pinned against the hard surface with his feet dangling inches from the ground. He couldn't move. Dean tried to fight the overwhelming terror coursing through him but the best he could do was keep from losing control over his bladder. The damned childish emotions were drowning him as Azazel walked across the room to stand in front of him. On the plus side, the demon was now ignoring Sammy completely. And Dean had to keep it that way.
"Dude, check out the big, bad demon. Picking on a four year old. That's just pathetic, man."
"We'll see which one of us is pathetic in a moment, Deano. I think it'll be the one whose insides are decorating the floor. And that will be you."
Dean felt his tiny body slide up the wall and dearly hoped that he wasn't headed for the ceiling, knowing that that would be the death of him. He let out a sigh of relief when he stopped moving upwards a good two feet from hitting his head. But then his sigh became a pained cry as a sharp pain flared on his stomach. He looked down to see blood soaking through his pajama top right over his belly. Tears streamed down his face and he prayed that this wasn't the end.
…
…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…
…
Mary Winchester stood outside of her baby boy's nursery and waited for her older son to say the codeword. She'd wanted to run into the room as soon as she'd heard a man's voice talking with Dean, but her instincts told her to trust her son's judgment. Somehow he knew things that he just shouldn't know and one of those things was how to defeat this threat to the Winchester family.
The threat. It was her fault. She'd given this demon bastard an invitation to stop by her home ten years ago when she'd made the deal to bring John back to life. And she'd lived in dread of the day that he'd show up ever since. Oh, it wasn't always on her mind. She had plenty of things to occupy her thoughts during the day. Being a stay at home mom for little Dean was hard work. And then, the ten year mark was upon her and she ended up in the hospital giving birth to her second son. She'd searched the entire house when she'd gotten home, but there was no sign of any demonic activity. Ever since then, she'd relaxed and let her guard down. But apparently that had been a mistake. It made no sense though. Why had the demon waited an extra six months to invade her home? What was important about today?
Then it came to her. Words spoken over ten years ago by another Dean. The hunter had practically begged her not to get out of bed on November second, 1983. But now she had. What did that mean? Was it possible that her son was possessed and had led her into a trap? No. She'd used the holy water on him and it had just annoyed him. Besides, the man in the other room didn't seem pleased with Mary's first born, so she doubted that they were working together.
But the conversation she was listening to was surreal. Dean's voice was coming to her loud and clear and it was definitely her little boy's voice but the words that were coming out of his mouth did not sound like him at all. First he talked about the deaths of her parents and John, something he should know nothing about. Then he mentioned having a friend who was an angel (the second time he'd brought up an angel). But the most disconcerting part was when he started using what Mary referred to as 'potty language'. Ever since the boy had first started speaking, he'd always been so soft-spoken and polite. He'd never said anything like words coming out of his mouth at the moment.
Mary jumped when she heard a thud come from the room. She wanted to run in more than ever, but Dean had been adamant about what her fate, and that of her family, would be if she didn't heed his warnings and follow through with his plan. And even though he was acting nothing like himself, something inside of her insisted that she trust him.
It was hard not to react when she heard the other voice threaten her son but when she heard his childish voice let out a scream, Mary abandoned the idea of waiting for Dean to say 'Impala' and rushed into the nursery.
The woman was horrified to see her son pinned to the wall just below the ceiling, his pajama shirt drenched with blood that was dripping down to puddle onto the floor. He had tears running down his face and looked like he was terrified and in extreme agony. Mary raised the weapon she'd been given at the man standing in her baby's room.
"Stop it! Let him go."
The man turned and the former hunter saw his eyes. His yellow eyes. Dean had told her who it was that would be showing up, but it was still a shock to see him again and Mary felt anger fill her mind. This bastard had killed her parents, had come for her baby and was now harming her eldest son. He was going to die.
"Mary. So good to see you again." The demon smirked at her.
"Let my son go."
"No, I don't think so. He's boasted twice now about being the one who kills me. That won't happen if I gut the brat right now."
"Dean!" Mary heard her husband's voice calling as the sound of his footsteps could be heard on the stairs. Of course he'd come. There was no way he could've missed the boy's screaming only moments before. But then the door to the nursery slammed shut.
"I think there's enough people at this party already, don't you?" The demon commented.
Mary was relieved. John would only have gotten himself killed had he made it into the room. A moment later the door knob rattled but the door stayed closed. Obviously, the slamming door had clued her husband in to where the problem was. When the door didn't budge, a loud pounding started.
"What's going on in there? Dean, are you okay, buddy? Mary, you in there?"
"I'm here, John." She called back.
"Yeah, we're all here, John." The demon mocked.
"Mary, who's in there? I'm calling the cops. Whoever you are, don't you touch my family!"
"No! John, don't call the police! Just… just stay there." The last thing that was needed right now was to throw civilians in the mix. Besides, she didn't want to explain where she'd gotten a gun and why she killed a man. Because this demon was definitely going to die. She just needed him distracted enough to get a shot in without him using his powers to disappear or deflect the bullet.
"What? You don't want lover boy to die again?" The demon laughed. "Now, lower that gun and maybe you can live through this. After all, we both know that bullets can't hurt me." Despite his words, he was looking at the colt with apprehension.
"And we… we all know… that the ones… in that gun can." Dean spoke up in a weak, pain-filled voice.
The yellow-eyed demon turned to face the boy and that's when Mary made her move. She aimed the colt and fired. The bullet left the weapon at high speed and buried itself in the back of the demon possessed man's head. He made as if to turn around and face her, but then faltered as lightning seemed to flash inside his body. Mary heard John calling to her and she shouted back reassurances that they were okay without once taking her eyes off of the scene playing out in front of her.
As the demon fell to the floor, so did her son. Dean hit the floor with a thud and Mary ran forward. Sam had woken when the gun went off and was crying but she didn't have time to console him. While the baby was obviously scared, he was physically alright, which was more than could be said for her first born.
Mary dropped to her knees in front of the boy and gently rolled him over onto his back. Dean's eyes were clouded by pain but he managed a weak smile.
"You… did it, Mom. You changed… everything."
Mary had no clue as to what her son was talking about. But questions would have to wait. His pajama shirt was soaked through with blood and he was beginning to shake. The worried mother pulled up the article of clothing and saw a long, deep cut pumping out a ton of blood. He was going to need to get to the hospital. And Mary was certain that there was no way Dean would live long enough to get there alive.
"Oh God. Oh no. Dean, baby, hold on. I'll get you help." Tears streamed down her face as she heard the nursery door open behind her.
"What the hell? Mary what's… oh! Dean!"
And then John was besides her as she cradled her four year old son in her arms. She didn't even recall picking him up but now she was holding him close to her chest.
"Don't… cry, Mom." The child's voice was fading. "It's… actually better… than the… the way it… it could've ended."
"No. No, sweetie. Don't talk." It no longer mattered why Dean had been acting so strange before. All that mattered was that he was dying in her arms. "Just hang on, baby."
"I'll call an ambulance." John offered.
"It'll be faster if we drive him." Mary countered, getting ready to stand while still holding her injured son.
"Too late." Dean mumbled. "Love you…"
Then the boy's eyes closed.
Author's Note Part Two: Yeah, I totally realize that this cliffhanger means that I won't live to see 2013... oh, well. I guess my disembodied spirit will have to finish this story. Please leave a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks.
