I sat down to write this, started listening to an amazing song and ended up writing the final chapter. The concept for this story is something I have been thinking about for a very long time and I got carried away. Therefore, here is the next installment. Thank you for the favourites, follows and reviews. They are very nice emails to receive!
Chapter 4: The Devil you know
Dean laid out a variety of delicious, fast food goods, all renowned for being the best of it's kind. He swiftly slipped a straw into the ice-cold tea and turned to face a surprisingly pissed off Castiel. God, he was surrounded by walking chick-flick moments.
"Dude, can you just not start right now?" Dean pinched the bridge of his nose; his Guardian Angel was becoming a real pain in his arse and was noticeably snippy with him. At this rate, Sam would soon realise that there was something amiss.
"I have not started anything Dean, I believe that was you" Castiel held his stance, with his arms moodily crossed and his eyes screaming accusations at him. "You can't light a fire and expect there to be no smoke, Dean."
Dean thought he preferred it when Castiel had no idea what a film reference or an idiom was. Now that he mostly understood metaphorical language – well, when it suited him any way, he still liked to play dumb when Dean used them- he was incredibly annoying, more so than before.
"You don't understand, Cas. I have to do this; it has to be this way. I don't know how many more times we can go through this. This is something that I am finally choosing. For so long, I have had the choice taken from me, my life has been at the mercy of other influences, Angels, Demons, people, destinies. Now it's finally my choice and I decide to die for my brothers. That's it. No more."
"Since when did this become your decision to make? You want to be the lamb to the slaughter for your brother, but have you even stopped to consider how this will impact him? Have you forgotten what you see in his eyes every time you look in them? The sadness, the heartache. You do not need to be told how he feels; you hear that loud and clear in his heart. That's the choice you're making here: to break what is left of your brother. He barely made it through it this time. Next time, I don't think he will be the same Sam you are trying to protect. You will loose him."
"Then at least there will be a Sam left afterwards. I can't- I won't- let Sammy die. He is strong enough to survive without me, he is the strongest one of us all, Cas. He'll make it because he is the best of us all. That's why he has to survive, to protect Adam and show him what family really means." Dean looked earnestly at Castiel, begging him to understand.
"I wish I could look a the world the same way you do." Castiel paused, allowing Dean to hope he was finally getting him to understand. "But I am not a child who is willing to ignore the truth."
His cutting words made Dean wince, his heart contracting in panic and anger, both battling for control of him. "Enough." Anger.
Charlie hesitated outside of the door holding the best curly fries in Kansas, Dean's tone had stopped her in her tracks and she was not one to fight her curious nature. She waited, wondering what the hell was going on.
"No Dean, it is not enough. You cannot continue to be so selfish and careless and dress it up as protecting others. You need to consider the realities and take a good hard look at yourself. Why are you really doing this? We are no longer alone; I believe Charlie is back with the fries.
Charlie awkwardly took this as her cue to enter and put on her brightest, 100-watt smile, pretending she had heard none of the raised, heated voices. "I got the fries, I guess Death isn't afraid of dying- wait, can he die? - Let's get this summoning going. Where's Sam?" Charlie curiously looked at Dean, surveying the damage and biting her tongue to prevent an unhelpful comment from coming out. Something was wrong, she just couldn't ask now. She just hoped that Dean wasn't being a complete idiot, as usual.
-Later-
"So, let me get this straight? You, mere mortals, summoned me, the Pale Horseman, Death, to borrow my ring, again?" His cold eyes surveyed his audience, an Angel with a fading grace, A Demon with a soul, a human with the Mark of Cain, Lucifer's empty vessel and the Saviour the Wizard of Oz. "What an odd ensemble you make. It's sweet really, to think that you hold any importance to me." He swiped a fry and popped it in his mouth, briefly savoring the taste.
"And yet you came and you are happily eating, I suspect that we do indeed hold some importance to you. You know what we want, you know why we are doing this, the question is: will you help us?" Sam looked squarely at Death, his old arrogance shining through, from the years when he had no real worries other than the monster they were battling that week. Back when he would sass the feds to defend his brother and get his way. Sam knew the stakes were high and there was no time to pussy foot around.
"My, my, Sam Winchester has grown a pair. Last time we met, you were preparing yourself for your final death, before your brother tricked you into allowing an Angel to 'wear you to prom' – in the words of Dean Winchester – how did that turn out for you?" His cruel and malicious smirk wound Sam up, but he knew this was a game for Death. He wanted to bait Sam; he wanted to see how far he could push him and whether they were serious in their endeavor.
"I'm here now, so I would say it worked out fairly well."
"I think Kevin Tran would disagree with you…" He trailed off, waiting.
"And I think we are through with your games. You know our plan, will you back us? Will you help us lock Lucifer and Michael in the cage forever?" Calm, must stay calm. I am a rock, I am solid. Sam chanted his mantra, grasping onto his last thread of restraint before he launched himself at the Horseman.
"I think none of us want to insult my intelligence by pretending that this isn't about that half blood brother of yours, Adam. Pissing off the Angels is just a happy by-product for you."
I am a fricking rock. I am solid. Sam braced himself, allowing his comments to wash over him, mostly.
"I mean, really, I'm cleaning up your mess again. What will you do next time, when I refuse to help you? Hm?" He gave them a condescending look, like a mother chastising her children.
I am a goddamn rock, bashing the living day lights out of Death. I am calm, I am a rock. He clenched his fists, knowing more than ever that he had to pass Death's mini test.
"One that God started. It's yes or it's no. What will it be? No more games, you know how much we have given to this fight."
"On one condition." Death smiled dangerously.
Dean had waited for this moment; knowing that Sam would have to wear the ring. Really, he knew there was nothing to worry about. Sam knew what was at stake, he knew how to hold it together and how to make difficult decisions for the ones he loved. He just waited for Death to hand over the ring so Sam could learn the same lesson Dean had. He knew that Death wouldn't give it to Dean again.
"24 Hours. Do not take it off, I think we know the rules."
Sam reached out to take the ring from Death.
"Ah ah ah." He held it back from Sam, close to where his heart would have been, if he had one. "Not you."
Five bewildered pairs of eyes burned through Death, as a look of triumph crossed his face. "Oh dear, did you think I would make it that easy? I think we all know that Sam is well trained in difficult situations; he'd do anything to save family. No, I think the newly souled Demon would be much more interesting."
"Well, hell. We're all screwed then." Dean exploded.
"Jeez, thanks for the vote of confidence there, Squirrel. It just warms my heart." Crowley grumbled from the back. "However, this charmer does have a point, you're barking up the wrong tree, mate. I don't have the instruction manual for this soul… I don't know how it works."
"I rather think that's the point, Crowley. Now, you act as a Reaper for 24, keep the ring on and I will let you borrow" He gave Dean a pointed look, "my ring for your little plan to work."
-22 hours and 58 minutes later-
Dean sat throwing shells form his nuts into a bowl, pausing occasionally to let Charlie take a shot.
Sam sat patiently reading through his tome of translated Demon tablet pages, swatting up on other tid bits of information that Kevin had translated. Death may have only been trying to test Sam, but his barbed comment had struck a cord deep within him. He head learned to bury his pain and grief over his role in Kevin's murder. Rationally, he knew that it was Gadreel, and that it was not his fault. However, it was his hands he saw in his nightmares ripping the life from Kevin's body. Kevin was another piece of collateral damage in their battle. No matter how good his intentions were, Sam still managed to do so much bad in this world. He wondered whether he would every truly find redemption, how would he ever be forgiven for his actions? What was to stop him from future errors of judgment? The road to hell, and all that jazz.
"It's a good sign, right? That we haven't heard anything from either of them? It means that he hasn't taken it off, right?" Charlie looked around at the distracted Winchester boys; both were locked away in their own angsty worlds, trapped in their own torments. How on earth could two men create so much torment? It stunned her sometimes, how broken this world had left them. It saddened her, knowing that because of everything they had been through, they deserved the most happiness in this world. Now it seemed like that was something they would never achieve.
Silence.
- One-hour later-
Sam's eyes ceased traveling over the messy scribbles of Kevin's writing. It was nearly time and they had still not heard anything, the waiting was killing him. When they got the ring, it meant that their plan was going to be put into action and Sam would have to be more vigilant than ever. He couldn't trust that Dean wouldn't pull something stupid, he expected Dean to trick him into being left behind, or something equally frustrating. The wheels set in motion after the return of Crowley, hopefully with the ring, would be delicate and dangerous. He couldn't afford to drop the ball with this one, not when Dean was at stake here.
Dean's eyes were trained on the door to the bunker, waiting for his last chip to fall into place. He needed this ring to make everything work, to rescue his brother and save himself from the Mark of Cain.
As Dean's watch began to beep, signaling the end of the 24-hour time frame, the Winchesters, Castiel and Charlie returned to the summoning circle for Death and once again waited.
With the whisper of a promise, Death appeared in the center of the circle with a red-eyed Crowley. He exuded an air of grief and desolation, without so much as a word, he stormed off towards his bedroom ignoring the desperate cries of his name.
Dean rounded onto Death, "well? Did he manage it? What happened?"
He assessed Dean, he had always had a special interest in the Winchester brothers, it always fascinated him how these two seemingly unexceptional men always managed to defy the world's expectations and refuse to be the pawns of others. He knew that the world was a better place for having them here; he knew that they had given up so much in the fight for good, and they asked for such little in return. That's why he respected them, he would never tell them that, but he did. It was funny how something so small and unimportant can have such a phenomenal impact on the grand order of things. Fascinating. Now enough of the torment.
Raising his hand, he showed the ring on his hand and with a flourish, he swept it round so that his palm faced the ceiling. Impossibly, his ring sat on his palm, a silent offering to the boys.
"Do not underestimate the ex-demon. I guess he didn't need an instruction manual after all. He learnt a lot today, the importance of the order and his new place in this world. He needs more guidance than he is currently getting from you. It was both a gift and a curse that you have bestowed upon him, with that comes a great responsibility for you two. Don't neglect it. The Devil you know is better than the Devil you don't know. Remember that. Good luck, boys." Death breathed out of existence and the ring clattered to the floor.
"Well I'll be damned, he did it." A look mixed between awe and surprise crossed Dean's face.
"Yes, it is incredibly pleasing when someone exceeds your expectations. I'd say it's a nice change from being disappointed, isn't it Dean?" he gave him a pointed look before turning to leave.
"What's wrong with him? He has been temperamental and cranky for a while now! What gives?" Expectant eyes met evasive ones.
"Who knows these days, Sammy? Who knows?" Dean turned to pick up his abandoned beer. "I think we need one more before we hit the hay. Big day tomorrow, Sammy." He cupped the back Sam's head and gently pushed in an attempt to annoy him before going to the kitchen.
"I just don't get how he can keep his cool some times. Sometimes he is struggling to hold it together, you know, rockin' the Mark of Cain and then sometimes he is so much like the old Dean. It throws me, you know?" Charlie looked puzzled.
"Don't be fooled, he has had many years to perfect that level practiced of nonchalance and indifference. Sometimes, when he is most at peace it is because we are in the center of the storm and danger is coming." Sadly, Sam turned to Charlie.
For the first time since knowing Sam, Charlie could see the strain of the Hunting life and everything that had been happening to them. She had been so wrapped up in how to help Dean and what he was going through, that she forgot that Sam was going through this too, that it had been affecting Sam too. In that moment she realised how much she unintentionally underestimated Sam, and maybe everyone else did too. This young, battle hardened man had been through so much and he was still here standing, hiding his troubles behind a façade. It shattered her heart. These boys deserved so much better than they had been given.
"We finally have a lead on the Mark of Cain though, and that's thanks to you Charlie. I haven't had a chance to thank you, really thank you. I thought all was lost and now there is something to fight for. Thank you." Enveloping her in a tight hug, he gave a moment over to allowing Charlie to see behind the curtain, showing his feelings.
-In the kitchen-
Relief. That's all he felt now. They had the key and he was able to continue on with his plan. He rolled his sleeve up and examined the Mark. Hatred boiled beneath the surface of his skin, it shot through him like poison and it stoked the fire of the Mark. He grasped the handle of the fridge, fighting down the urge to explode. The blade was singing to him from its hiding place, knowing its counter part was in such close proximity.
It burned through him, igniting the Mark on his arm and bringing him back to that room, surrounded by bodies. Deep breathes, that's what he needed. He could keep it together, there wasn't long left now, then he could get rid of this curse.
Sometimes Dean felt as if the Mark knew his plan, it knew there was danger and that he was going to end the Mark of Cain for good. It fought against that like a wild animal, driving Dean to temptation until sometimes he found himself standing in his room, holding the First Blade and thirsting for blood. It felt sickeningly delicious and he had to think about Sammy to keep himself grounded. Holding Sam in his arms when he ran form the burning nursery, stealing presents from other people's houses so he would have something to open on Christmas day, stitching up his shoulder after the Werewolf and then cutting his own. They were the same, they were brothers, and they were in this together.
It was getting harder and harder to drive the bloodlust down, and he knew he was treading a dangerous line. Castiel may have been right, but he also knew that he had to be prepared.
Gently, he let go of the fridge handle, picked up the beers and returned to Sam and Charlie. They paused their conversation as Dean re-entered, gladly taking the offered bottles from Dean and Sam gave Charlie a knowing look when he saw the strained expression on Dean's face.
They were certainly in the center of the storm, but surly the Devil they knew was better? Right?
