Too Far From Where We Once Belonged.
Chapter 3
S s S s S
It was a crisp clear morning, with pale blue skies and a smattering of wispy trailing clouds. Underfoot tiny pine cones crunched in a way that reminded Dean of walking across icy spring snow. It was curiously satisfying. A thick frost sparkled in the morning sun. Golden tinted sunbeams filtered through the forest, fanning out from behind the shadowed tree trunks, the radiant hand of God reaching down from the heavens to touch the cold earth and warm the soul of man. The type of morning that should make a person feel glad to be alive. It was a beautiful day and Dean saw nothing more than dirt and sky.
They were waiting by a ramshackle cabin at the end of a narrow dirt road. Only used by hikers now, it had a thick carpet of moss of its roof and mounds of pine needles covered the small front porch. Dean scanned the trees that lined the road behind them. The forest around chattered with the low song of birds and the occasional indignant squeak of a squirrel. Dean wished they would shut the hell up.
Sam was sitting on the hood of the car, huddled into his jacket and leaning against the windshield, his head nodding as he dozed. Not so long ago it was Sam who hardly ever slept, plagued by nightmares and a past that he hated but could never seem to let go. Lately, Dean would find him napping whenever he could. It didn't seem to matter where, any spot into which he could contort his lanky frame would do. Dean rocked on his feet, the ground crackling under his boots. He had actually slept very well that night, or early morning. A deep, dreamless sleep that had left him feeling groggy and disorientated when he awoke. Sam's little demonstration had left him bone tired. Dean yawned, he wasn't convinced that it he was own efforts that had exhausted him. He trusted his brother he just wasn't quite sure if he believed him.
Dean looked over at the car, Sam was twitching in his sleep, eyes moving under his lids. He made a soft sound, breathing out a low cry of distress. Some things never changed.
"He looks so cute when he's asleep. Don't you think, Dean?" Ruby stepped out from between the trees and Sam jerked awake, sliding ungracefully from the car.
Dean stared vacantly at Ruby, wondering if he should be concerned by his lack of reaction to her appearance. They had been waiting for her, after all. Sometimes it was just so damn hard to care.
Ruby glanced between them, Sam rubbing the sleep from his eyes and Dean's indifference shrouding his face.
"Fast reflexes, boys. I'm beginning to wonder how either of you ever made it out of puberty." She pushed past Dean, and his muscles murmured restlessly under his skin. She stood by the car, hands on her hips, glowering in disapproval at Sam.
"What is it, Ruby?" Sam massaged his face and Dean thought he seemed distracted and vague. Not his usual attentive self, the one Dean found so irksome, as he usually was when his annoying little demon sidekick came a knocking.
Ruby tapped her foot, her voice as frosty as the ground beneath her. "If you're up to it. I wouldn't want you to strain yourself. I know where Lilith is."
"Where? What's she doing?" Sam stalked around the car, his drowsiness gone in an instant.
"Is she trying to open another seal?" Dean spoke over his brother.
Ruby tossed her head, flipping her hair over her shoulder and glaring peevishly at them both. She looked every inch the sulky teenager and possessed or not, Dean wondered how far gone, how lonely and hopeless Sam must have been to seek comfort in her arms.
"Where, is my business. You're not going after her, there's a couple of chores I have to do first and," her eyes raked over Sam, "you wouldn't stand a chance against her at the moment. What the hell's wrong with you?"
Sam winced, his eyes darting to Dean and ignored the question. "So what do you want then?"
"I've heard of some activity, some of Lilith's lackeys over on the east coast." Ruby stopped, her face reflecting some internal struggle. Dean didn't like the bare emotion he saw in her eyes. Things like her shouldn't carry such things with them.
"What's wrong?" He growled. Ruby quirked an eyebrow in his direction.
"You know Dean, there's something different about you." She stared at him for a moment and then shook her head.
"Ruby." Sam was impatient.
"Something's going on. Wethersfield, Connecticut. There's a small village, or I should say there was a small village, a settlement about 15 miles from the town. It was called Matthewstown. I've heard that they're searching for something. I don't know what it is but Lilith wants to get her hands on it." Ruby spoke briskly, her attention wandering to the tall tree tops and the sun climbing through their branches.
"One of the seals?" Dean asked again.
"I don't think so. She'd be there, if it was. I'm guessing it does have something to do with them. Here," she pulled some folded sheets of paper from her pocket and waved them at Sam. "Instructions on how to find the place. It's in the woods surrounding a large mansion. Private grounds. I doubt too many people even know what the ruins were or how old they are. What's left dates from about 1700. Now get going." She shoed them away.
Sam turned towards the car, crinkling the paper under his nose as he scanned its contents. "How do you know all this," he asked peering over the top of an unfolded sheet of paper.
"I used to live there." Ruby replied and smiled coldly.
S s S s S
Dean was happy to be back on the road, Sam could tell. Dean was always at his most relaxed behind the wheel and today was no exception. He thought about bringing up the prickly subject of the events of the previous night, but he realized that caution was the name of the game. Slow and steady was the only way to win this race. There were other things he wanted, no, needed to share with Dean. Until last night nothing on earth, or any other realm, would have reassured him that Dean would handle anything Sam might tell him without prejudice and his fists. Sam studied the notes Ruby had given him.
"So Ruby was running around the New England countryside over 300 hundred years ago. Kind of makes you think. So what are we supposed to stop Lilith and her evil henchmen from finding?" Dean asked.
"She says here she doesn't know. Matthewstown wasn't lived in for that long. Apparently the town was burned to the ground in about 1698. People living there were accused of witchcraft and their land and possessions were seized. A few were executed and the others were banished. After that it was overgrown by the woods and forgotten about. Ruby had left for Wethersfield before it all started. " Sam reread Ruby's oddly neat notes.
"I'm having a vision," Dean said "Ow."
"Huh. What?" Sam looked up startled, his heart rate rising painfully fast, thudding hard in his chest, shaking the papers in his hand.
"Hmm. Yes. I see Ruby and what's that she's doing?" Dean squinted, eyes on the road ahead. "Oh yeah, being a big fat lying bitch."
Sam hid his relief, holding the notepapers to the window and looking away. He breathed quietly, taking a slow calming breath. Dean didn't know. Good. He forced his attention back to his brother who was still talking.
"…was she human then? I wonder what she did when her innocent neighbors got taken down for the things that she did? She was probably one of those doing the finger pointing. Good way to hide, if you're an evil demon dealing witch. And you trust her." Dean sighed, exasperation rather than sarcasm tingeing his words.
"Not this again. She saved my life; I take as I find, Dean. I trust her, until she gives me reason not to. You wanna do this or not?" Sam tried to sound like he didn't care, anxiety snaking through him as he waited for Dean's reply. It was confusing because he honestly didn't know which answer he wanted to hear.
"Nothing better to do."
"Me neither." Sam replied and realized with surprise that he was pleased. This was what he needed to do.
S s S s S
The setting sun cast long shadows through the bare trees and painted broad orange strokes across the graying sky. Scattered amongst the trees and ivy were heaps of stones, ancient low walls that were once the foundations of people's homes. What was left of the village was spread over a good square mile and they had split up not long after arriving. Sam had found nothing that suggested anything or anyone had come to visit Matthewstown in a long time.
S s S
They had left the Impala parked by the side of the road which cut through the woods and circled around the private estate. Half a mile into the trees they had stumbled upon a lichen covered stone cross. Sam had been surprised by the inscription, the cross was dated 1992. Left in a lonely wood, a modern memorial to the brutal reality of those who had lived and died nearly 300 years before, it filled Sam with an aching melancholy.
"Same date as the Salem memorial." Sam told his brother.
"Too little, way too late," Dean was unimpressed and had stomped off into the trees. The words were like a hard hand to Sam's face and he hunched over, leaning on the damp stone of the cross. When it came to bad memories, he was spoilt for choice.
S s S
The sound of laughter, light and feminine, floated between the trees. Sam stole quietly across the soft ground, following the sound of more than one voice.
He crouched down, hidden by a large holly bush. The sharp pointed leaves scraping the side of his face.
There was Dean, standing on the narrow trail that meandered throughout the ruined village. He was with two girls, young and pretty. They were dressed in warm and inappropriately tight outdoor gear and hiking boots, both carrying backpacks. One with long white blonde hair pulled into a pink beribboned ponytail, the other shorter and darker with killer curves. They were both smiling at Dean.
Something deep within Sam stirred, roused by not by worldly instinct but by the spirits of darkness and malevolence. Couldn't Dean tell? Couldn't he see what was right in front of him? Sam wasn't sure if it was both of them or just one. The heat rippled through the twilight air, smothering his pores and choking his skin. It was strong, too strong to be just one demon. They seemed unaware of his presence.
"Hey, Dean. I've been looking all over for you, man." Sam stepped out into the open.
The girls jumped and swung round. "Oh hi," they chorused, flashing white teeth and lip gloss at him.
"Sam, these young ladies are from the Wethersfield historical society. Sylvie, Val this is my brother."
"He's very tall," one of the girls tittered. Sam didn't notice which one; he was too busy trying pull Dean's attention away from his lecherous perusal of various parts of the female anatomy. Dean glanced up, grinning. Sam widened his eyes and compressed his lips into tight line. Dean's grin froze in place.
"Ah. I see." He took a step back, the blonde girl whipped her head back round.
"Leaving so soon? Dean Winchester." She blinked slowly and smiled sweetly as her eyes turned inky black. Before he or Sam could react, Dean was lifted off the ground, thrown back and slammed into a twisted tree trunk. He slid down and landed face first in the dirt.
"Sylvie," her companion screamed shrilly and gulping for air, her mouth still open she stopped abruptly, wheezing as her eyes bulged and then rolled back into her head. She crumpled silently to the ground.
Oh shit. Sam shifted his feet further apart and locked his knees, trying to establish his balance. Only one, then. One dangerously powerful demon nicely wrapped and topped with a pretty pink bow. Sam took a deep breath and raised his hand, a wave of heat billowing across the space between them, scorching his palm.
S s S
Dean opened his eyes and closed them again. There was something important he had to do. What the fuck was it? He was outside, it was cold and he had dirt up his nose.
Pretty girls. Yeah. Sam. Uh oh. Demons. Crap. Dean jerked his head up, twisting to look over his shoulder. About 20 feet away his brother was locked in a silent and motionless battle, his hand reaching to banish and destroy Sylvie, or the evil that was wearing her. Even in the fading light Dean could see Sam trembling at the sustained effort of holding the demon at bay.
Sylvie held her arms out a few inches from her side, the top half of her body leaning forward. Her eyes narrowed and fixed on Sam, her mouth curled into an arrogant sneer. She wasn't moving towards Sam, but Dean was sure it was only because she had no need to. He had no idea what to do. How could he help? Short of flinging himself at the possessed girl. Which he knew, would only be a temporary interruption. No knife, no colt, no nothing.
Sam grunted and for a moment his body sagged. Shaking he straightened up, his raised arm beginning drop. Dean scrambled to his knees and scrabbled across the leaves and branches to Sam's side. Up close he could see the blood beginning to trickle from Sam's nose and to his horror a bright red tear leaked from under his tightly shut eyelids, running down his face to drip off his chin. Sam was losing the fight.
"Dean," he whispered hoarsely and opened his eyes, they were glazed with a watery red sheen and his tears left bloody streaks over his skin. He wavered and then fell to his knees, his arms limp and Dean grabbed at him as he went down. They landed heavily on the ground. Dean clung to his brother and something tugged at him. It was the chilling sensation of being pulled from the inside, as if he were exhaling in one long never ending breath. Sam shuddered in his arms.
"Dean," he pleaded urgently and raised his hand to the demon once more. The air between them crackled and Dean felt the surge sweep through his body, instinctively he pushed at it and it was dragged from him. The searing energy wrenched by an unseen hand from every corner of him body and soul and flowing into his brother.
Sam was vibrating against him, the charge within him reaching critical levels. Dean heard him snarl and knew the precise moment that Sam let it loose. Air molecules around them dancing synchronously. A split second later there was a strangled scream and Dean peered over Sam's shoulder to see Sylvie staggering back, the telltale wisps of black smoke flowing from her mouth and downward to burn. The body of the young woman toppled to the ground . Nothing moved or made a sound, even the wind seemed to drop away, unwilling to bear witness to the dark forms invading the quiet woods.
"That was different." Dean whispered in disbelief, exhausted by his involuntary actions. Sam slumped back, his breathing labored and Dean found himself struggling to keep them both upright.
"Dean," Sam murmured, "I'm going to pass out now."
"Go ahead, I'm not going anywhere."
They stayed sprawled together on the damp earth and let night fall around them.
