Chapter Four
The room is small and cosy. Decorated in pale blues, greens and yellows. Stuffed animals all over the place. Pictures of friendly cartoon animals on the walls. There's a change table against the far wall, a rocking chair by the window and a beautiful blonde wood crib in the middle of the room.
It's the middle of the night and the room is quiet and dark save for the soft lullabies. The soft glow of the nightlight falls gently across the crib and the baby who lies within it. A soft sigh comes from the child's lips as he dreams in the type of peace known only to the very small. He doesn't dream for long.
The lullabies that his mother had left on for him earlier when she'd put him down to sleep stopped abruptly mid-song. It was enough to make the child open his eyes and fuss. When the night light went out too he got scared. Where was his mommy? He started to cry. Mommy always came to him when he cried.
That's right little one. Call her and she will come…
But the baby doesn't hear the voice. Doesn't see the clock stop as his mother comes into the room. Wouldn't have known what it meant even if he had. All he saw was his mommy leaning over the side of the crib and rubbing his tummy to comfort him.
"Shh sweetheart. It's alright. mommy's here." Only mommy isn't alone. She just doesn't realize it yet.
There's a man there too… or… the shadow of a man… standing behind her just out of sight. "I'll go get your bottle sweetie, and then well rock a little while until you fall asleep again. I'll be right back…" She kisses the baby's forehead tenderly and turns to go.
She turns and is met by bright yellow eyes in solid darkness and screams. Slowly she is lifted by something she cannot see. Up the wall…. Onto the ceiling… Above the crib… Oh god Micheal, don't look baby… close your eyes please. She thinks the words because she can no longer speak.
There's a sharp pain somewhere near her middle and then blood. Warm and thick. She feels it spread and then watches it drip.
A man comes running in, screaming her name "Georgia!" But it's too late. The searing heat comes and then the flames and she is consumed. Little Micheal screams his fear from beneath her in his crib.
Oh my God! The baby. In the shock of what he'd walked in on he had forgotten about little Micheal. One swift motion and the child is swept up, blanket and all, into his father's big strong arms. Then the man is running. Running out of the room, down the stairs and out the nearest door. Finally away from the flames, and safe… he turns and drops to his knees in the grass as he watches the house go up in flames.
The demon is there among the flames. Unseen. Unnoticed. Glowing eyes burning as hotly as the fire that surrounds him as he watches the boy and his father. Another breadcrumb for the Winchester boys to follow… Another child who will grow to fit his plans. Two birds with one stone. Not bad for a night's work. Satisfied he returns to the shadows from whence he came, back to the motel where he'd left John Winchester to rest.
He would have brought his nemesis and current host along for the ride. Would have enjoyed his reaction. The horror that would have gripped him, watching this happy little family being torn apart the same way his own had been over two decades before. All the sweeter that his body would have played a part in that destruction.
But it had been days since he'd let the man sleep. John Winchester was worn out and if he was pushed any farther beyond his limits he may very well die. For real this time. That would never do. He had to live… live long enough for the plan to come to completion. Sam and Dean hadn't even seen him yet…
Back at the motel John passes in and out of consciousness. His hands are bound, but it's just a formality really. Every time his eyes open he makes the tremendous effort to work the ropes. He needed to get free… needed to get a message to the boys somehow… needed to tell them… and warn them… but he can't stay conscious for more than a few minutes at a time and it's just not enough. The ropes binding his wrists are never more than frayed and he never moves much further than to the edge of the bed.
Then the smell of sulphur floods the room again and he knows he is no longer alone. Knows he can no longer afford himself the luxury of thoughts of escape. The shadow materializes above him. Surrounds him. Fills him until he feels like his body will explode. His skin feels taut and paper thin. The demon takes control of his body.
Then that voice is there in the darkness again… his voice. "Trying to free yourself John? These ropes were a lot tighter when I left. Now, that's just not right. Goes against our little deal, doesn't it? A life for a life… and a gun of course, heh heh. Would be a shame if I had to take that life back now wouldn't it? If you run Dean dies, and that is something neither of us wants…so don't push me Winchester. I'd take it kind of personally."
There were two others in the room now. Others possessed by shadows, though none as strong as the demon himself was. They were untying his hands now that he could no longer try to run. Now that he no longer had control of his body.
Fighting the darkness that always came when the demon took control. "You'll never win you evil bastard, you hear me?" He cried out desperately. Angrily. "My boys'll hunt you down and finish you off…" It was surreal to hear his own voice answer him "Oh, we'll see about that John."
They most certainly would John thought to himself as darkness blurred the edges of his mind again. He'd been preparing them their whole lives for this…and now Dean knew what John himself had known for so long now…about Sam's powers and the demon… they had what they needed to finish it once and for all. He just hoped that when the time finally came he'd be in a position to help them, rather than hurt them again.
