Demon Virus
Chapter Four: Black and White
This chapter was a struggle to write. I had a few different ideas before settling on what we have below, and I hope it reads well. Enjoy!
Another thing Dean didn't like about Utah were the high fences surrounding most of the cemeteries. Provo was no exception, its gates being shut tight at sundown with only two men running the graveyard shift. Not that they were going to be hard to sneak past, but it was still annoying.
Both Danielle and Stephanie wanted to come along, but Dean insisted it was better for just him and Sam to take care of this. "Digging up graves isn't all fun and games," he explained to them. "Also, do you really wanna watch us burn your best friend's body to a crisp?"
Stephanie's eyes welled up with tears and she shook her head harshly. "You're strangely blunt," Danielle observed from the couch in Stephanie's home.
"It's a Winchester thing," Dean said with a shrug.
"No, it isn't," Sam snorted.
"All right, so it's a Winchester man thing, Samantha," Dean shot back. "The distinction's important."
For the first time that day, Danielle actually cracked a real smile and snorted. Sam started. "Oh, that's how you feel," he said, blinking.
"Is it too much?" Danielle asked, smile fading. "I can always block myself off again."
"No, please don't," Sam said at once. "You actually connect with people this way, and the pain…" He offered the young woman a sad smile. "It only gets better when you try to actually deal with it."
Danielle's eyes looked a little wet. "You'd know," she said softly, without any heat. "Were you gonna propose to your girlfriend?"
Sam seemed to hesitate before nodding.
Azazel had said that that had been Sam's intention before Jessica's death, but part of Dean hadn't been sure whether to believe it or not until now. Now, he knew and it actually hurt.
"You weren't to know," Sam said, meeting his eyes and shrugging slightly. "Demons don't always lie."
"Demons?" Stephanie said, eyes going wide.
"Yeah," Dean sighed. "Bigfoot's a myth, but there are plenty of things out there that exist, demons among them."
"Relax, Steph," Danielle said to her young friend, "it only makes sense."
"But it doesn't!" Stephanie said. "That's not what they taught us growing up, Dani."
"Does… Odin exist?" Danielle asked, looking up at Dean.
"Never seen him," Dean said with a shrug, "but that doesn't mean anything. We took on a Pagan God a few months back whose power came from an ancient tree the area's settlers brought across the Atlantic with them and expected a yearly sacrifice. We've seen things from folklore and legends, from Bloody Mary to the Hook Man and more."
Stephanie shivered. "I guess… I don't really know the world, do I?"
"Not many people know about everything that's out there," Sam said gently. "Chances are you wouldn't have ever known if not for Gary."
There was a moment of silence.
"We should get going," Dean finally said, rising from his seat. "The sooner we get this over with, the sooner Gary can be put to rest and the sooner Danielle can get started teaching Sam how to control the empathy."
Sam nodded and rose, as well.
"You'll call us?" Stephanie asked. "When it's done?"
"Yeah," Sam said. "We'll call."
The brothers left the Tuttle residence and settled into the Impala. "We got everything?" Dean asked.
"Yeah," Sam said, getting settled in the passenger seat. "Let's do this."
It was about a fifteen-minute drive to the east side of the town where the cemetery lay. Dean parked across the street at an abandoned building, and then he and Sam headed across the street with their supplies in hand.
It wasn't an easy fence to climb, but both brothers had practiced doing this kind of thing for long enough that they were over and onto the grounds within seconds. Gary had been buried on the west end of the grounds, so they made their way over there as quickly as possible.
The Matheson's couldn't afford a proper grave marker just yet, so there was only a tag in the ground, letting people know where the kid had been laid to rest. "All right," Dean sighed, dropping his bag and hefting up his shovel in one hand. "You ready to do this?"
Sam smiled faintly and held up a flashlight. "Yeah."
It was never easy work, digging up a grave, but thankfully the ground hadn't settled so much that it was overly challenging. They switched off about three feet down, so it was Sam who managed to hit his shovel against the top of Gary's coffin.
"Yahtzee," Dean murmured. "Let's get it open."
Sam managed to lift the top off and climbed out of the grave to stand beside Dean, who already had the salt and lighter fluid in his hands.
Dean stared down at Gary's dead body. "Only seven months dead," he remarked. "He looks really good."
Sam gave an all-suffering sigh. "It takes longer than seven months for a corpse in a coffin in a grave to decompose. He'd still look pretty good a year out."
Dean shook his head. "I still can't believe how strong his spirit seems to be," he remarked, opening the salt canister and beginning to dump it over the body. Sam didn't say anything, and Dean began to worry just a bit. He dumped the last of the salt on Gary's corpse and looked up at Sam.
Sam's eyes were unfocused, like he was listening or watching something in his brain.
"Sam?" Dean asked, hesitant to touch Sam without knowing what this was. "Sammy?"
"Gary knows," Sam suddenly breathed, eyes watering in pain.
Suddenly, something slammed into Sam and sent him flying. He hit the ground hard, but managed to roll into a crouch, coming face-to-face with Gary's ghost.
"I'm not leaving," he hissed, face contorted in anger, and then Dean was flying through the air a moment later. This wasn't good.
Danielle left Stephanie in her home over an hour after Sam and Dean left to salt and burn Gary's body. It was strange to think about, the whole idea of spirits and putting them to rest and all that, but Empaths weren't supposed to exist, either, and here she was, fully capable of feeling and reading the emotions of everyone she met, living or not.
Which made it all the more surprising when a knife was suddenly held to her throat from behind. "Don't move."
Danielle froze, hands lifted slightly from her sides. She couldn't sense anything from the person behind her, and it was probably one of the strangest things she had experienced since becoming empathic the year before, though not the strangest… "Who are you?" she whispered.
The person laughed, and Danielle decided this person must be female. "My name's Tara," was the answer. "I'm a demon, and I'm looking for the Winchesters. Seem them recently?"
"A demon?" Danielle closed her eyes. "Is that why I can't sense anything from you?"
Tara chuckled. "We have emotions plenty," she answered, "but I spent time training myself on the off chance I ever had to cross paths with you. Pretty useful, right?"
"Sure," Danielle said, trying not to be sarcastic, although she was pretty sure she'd failed. "What do you want with Sam and Dean?"
"Funny story," Tara said. "I'm actually here to save their asses."
And that made as much sense as the idea of vampires who could step into sunlight without burning to a crisp. Unless they could… "What?"
Tara let out a heaving sigh. "They're gonna be in a heap of trouble very soon, and my father doesn't want them dying." Tara paused. "Well, Dean's life isn't a real priority, but Sam… He's too important."
"What's going on?" Danielle asked, feeling worried for the brothers more than she was worried for herself all of a sudden. "They're just salting and burning a corpse."
"You mean Gary?" The knife vanished and Danielle turned to see that Tara was tall with dark hair and blue eyes. "The job would be plenty easy if Gary's spirit wasn't unbelievably strong for someone who's been dead only seven months."
"Gary?"
Tara nodded. "Most spirits take years to gain the level of strength Gary's got," she explained, "and you're probably well aware that Gary's anger is consuming him at an unbelievable rate."
Danielle nodded silently. "Why is he so strong?"
Tara shrugged. "I think it has something to do with geography and intent, but I couldn't say for certain. Point is, you're here, Gary knew you, and he's dead."
Danielle blinked. That didn't make much sense at all.
"Sam may be able to sense his spirit," Tara added after a moment, "but regular old rock salt rounds won't make him vanish for more than a few seconds. No way does that leave enough reaction time." The demon tilted her head to one side as she stared at Danielle. "Ever been to Oregon?"
Danielle frowned at the sudden change in subject. "What? No."
Tara pursed her lips. "The brothers are hanging around here for a while so Sam can learn from you?"
"Yeah," Danielle answered, "but how —?"
"Go to Oregon with them next week. I insist."
That actually angered Danielle in ways she hadn't expected. "You insist?" she couldn't help but snap. "You think that just because you're a demon you can order me around however you want?"
Danielle suddenly found herself pressed against the side of her car, knife to her neck again and Tara's angry face way too close to her own.
"You don't get it," the demon snarled, eyes turning black and oh god, she'd seen that before and she couldn't understand how she'd never put two and two together — "Your ability?" Tara continued, gaining Danielle's full attention once more. "It was given to you the night you turned six months old. My father fed you demon blood, just a few drops, but more than enough to make you what you are today. Same with Sammy and every other special child out there like you, so yes, I can order you around as I see fit because your entire existence is of demonic making!" Tara abruptly stepped back. "Sam and Dean are on what side of the cemetery?"
Danielle struggled to find the ability to speak after that bombshell. Did Sam know about everything Tara had just said? "W-west," she finally stammered.
"Thanks," Tara said, finally putting her knife away. "Remember, Oregon, next week. Go with the brothers."
Danielle gave a shaky nod and Tara vanished. After a moment of shock, Danielle's legs finally gave out and the brunette slumped to the ground, breathing hard as the things Tara said and memories of a land-based oilrig on fire filled her mind.
It was in that moment she prayed for Sam and Dean's lives. There was so much she needed to know that only they could tell her, and, oddly enough, she couldn't help but feel an attachment to the both of them.
"Please, let them be okay," she whispered, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "Please."
"There's an unusually strong spirit in Provo, Utah."
Tara blinked and looked up at the demon standing before her desk. "Excuse me?"
"A spirit," the demon repeated with a frustrated look. "This thing's only been dead seven months and it's already killed three people and injured another four."
Tara set her book down. "And this matters to me why?" she asked irritably. She hated it when her research time was interrupted.
The demon sighed. "The Winchesters are heading for Provo's cemetery to salt and burn the spirit's body."
Oh. "Are they aware of how strong it is?"
The demon shook his head. "Not really," he said. "They seem to think they can take it on with their usual weapons, but it's not only strong, but it's really angry."
Tara sighed loudly. "And he needs them alive for the test next week." She thought for a moment. "There's a special child in Provo, right?"
The demon nodded. "Danielle Young. They've been in contact with her."
The only other Empath of Sam's generation. What a surprise.
"Then I'll start there," Tara said, standing up and stretching. Minutes later, she had Danielle Young pressed up against her car, telling her secrets she thought Sam might not have gotten around to telling her, just yet. Judging by the look in Danielle's eyes, she was right.
Seconds after that, she was in the cemetery, running towards Gary's grave and hoping she wasn't too late. Thankfully, Gary had only tossed Sam away from the dug-up grave while Dean was trying to shoot it with the shotgun.
Of course, Gary only flickered out for a few seconds before reappearing and charging at Dean with a howl of anger. Tara barely had time to react, flinging herself at the spirit and knocking it away. "GO!" she shouted at Dean, who instantly reacted and went after a large can of something flammable.
Gary turned his anger on Tara, trying to pull her out of her meatsuit, but she resisted, holding Gary down. "LET ME GO!" he screamed at her.
"Shut up," Tara grunted.
A few seconds later, she could hear the flammable fluid lighting up, and Gary stiffened right up, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in a silent scream before exploding into fiery ashes that dissolved instantly.
Tara slowly rose, taking in a pissed-off looking Dean by the grave and an exhausted Sam, still sitting on his ass ten feet away. She hadn't been this close to the youngest Winchester in months, so she was fascinated to see how underweight he still was. It'd been about four months since he'd gone through withdrawal, which meant he should've looked a lot better than he did. "Tara…" He trailed off, staring at her with what was clearly worry mixed with pain in his eyes.
"You know this is supposed to be survival of the fittest, right?" she snapped. "Azazel is only interested in the ones who are strong enough, and you're supposed to be among those, Sam. You felt that boy's emotions, you knew he was unusually strong! You both should've realized this, especially if you have any plans of staying alive and in the damn game."
Sam glared at her. "I never wanted to be a part of any of it," he retorted.
"Too bad," Tara said. "Don't expect me to do that again."
"We won't," Dean all but snarled, stalking over to Sam's side and glaring harshly at Tara. "You can leave now, we'll clean up here."
Tara eyed both brothers in speculative silence. "Learn from Danielle," she told Sam after a moment of consideration. "Clearly, you need it."
She left before Sam could reply, thinking of the report she'd have to send Azazel as well as the other thing she'd just done. Brady Miller was only expecting Sam and Dean up in Oregon next week, and she'd gone and told Danielle to go along with them. Brady would probably be pissed with her, but the deed had already been done. The moment she returned to her study, she had her cell phone out and was dialing Brady's number.
"Hey there, handsome!"
"Tara? You're not supposed to call me unless —"
"Yeah, I know," Tara cut him off, "no contact unless it's an emergency. D'you think I'm an idiot?"
"Every damn day," Brady said with good humor.
Tara laughed. "Right back atcha. Anyway, the reason I'm calling is about your test of the virus next week."
"I thought everyone knew that we're using Sam —"
"Yeah, I know," Tara cut him off again, "Sam's the test subject, but listen…"
"You gonna try and say we should use someone else when Azazel himself insisted it should be Sam?" Brady asked incredulously and Tara had to work to conceal her temper.
"Seriously, Brady, listen. You know anything about any of the others?"
"Other what?"
"The other special children, you jerk!" She rolled her eyes and wondered why she was even bothering. "Seriously, though, Brady… Ever heard of Danielle Young?"
"You mean that Mormon girl in Utah?"
"Only other Empath besides Sammy?" Tara added with raised eyebrows.
"… Yeah. Danielle the lone Empath until you lot turned on Sam's switches before he was ready."
Tara grinned. "That's the one. Sam met her earlier today. She's already agreed to train him on how to control his own empathy, and I was thinking she ought to come along for the test next week."
Brady was silent for along moment. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I thought you wanted to add another special child into an already complicated test of the virus I helped spend years developing for modern-day use."
Tara rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that about sums it up. I saw Sam tonight, and he looks like shit. It's gonna take more than a week of training before Danielle can help him learn to control his empathy properly. If anything, he needs her to stick close for a while."
Brady let out a long-suffering sigh. "This complicates things," he said, "but I see your point. I'll get to work on things, make sure we're ready for two test subjects next week instead of just Sam."
"Good. I'll see you around." Tara shut her cell phone and dropped into her chair to continue her research. They only had about five months before they'd need to access that Devil's Gate, and Tara needed to find out everything she could about it before then.
Sam.
She doesn't know who else it could be but him.
The scene is muted and blurry. There are two other people besides Sam that she can see, but she has no idea who they are or why they are here.
But one is dying. And Sam is making it happen.
"… always had to be you…."
There's a rush of white light shooting up from the ground, burning brighter than anything she's ever seen before and it hurts so bad —
Danielle's eyes snapped open and she stared up at the blank white ceiling of her bedroom as her head pounded. A moment later, she squeezed her eyes shut as she applied pressure to her temples, silently willing the pain to fade.
What on earth had that been about? Danielle had had a few weird dreams over the years, but never about someone she'd only just met. And why was he killing someone? What was that white light coming out of the ground? None of it made sense, and Danielle wasn't sure she wanted to so much as try and find out.
It still didn't change the fact that she needed to talk to Sam and Dean come morning. They had called, like they had promised, and she knew they were safe and alive, but she wanted to see for herself, make sure that no bones were broken, that Gary hadn't caused any irreparable damage in his all-consuming temper.
Then there was the issue of what Tara had said.
Demon blood. Danielle didn't know whether to laugh or scream at the idea. She slowly opened her eyes and stared at the palms of her hands in the dim light of her nightlight. Apart from the empathy, she was normal. Right?
Danielle wasn't sure what to make of anything anymore.
The headache hadn't lessened much, so Danielle forced herself to go upstairs and heat up a rice bag to try and help her get back to sleep. If this headache was anything like the ones she'd had a year ago, then it was going to take some time and sleep to make it go away.
Thankfully, for once, the rice bag worked and Danielle was drifting back to sleep within an hour.
When she woke up again just after sunrise, she didn't remember the dream.
TBC
