Dead Men Tell No Tales
Disclaimer: Sam and Dean don't belong to me, but I do have a lovely signed poster hanging in my office now!
Beta'd: By the delightfully witty Wysawyg. Thank you for your help, I couldn't do it without you!
As usual I had loads of homework after she beta'd, so any and all remaining errors are my own.
Special Thanks: To Muffy and Heather for humoring me when I stayed at the motel to write instead of going to the beach and for allowing me to bounce ideas off them. :D
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Sam watched as a woman materialized inside the room, her form morphing from transparent, to color, to seemingly corporeal in front of him. Her black hair hung in a thick plait and her colorful dress continued to take on vibrancy as the seconds past. She looked down at Dean and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Charlie, I can't trust you for a moment, can I?" Her voice had a soft, Southern lilt. "If you can't keep this body from harm, I won't find you another one."
Sam's heart sank with those words, all humor in their present situation gone. Cobbs, the man before him and now Dean, they were all Charlie. Unknown by their owner Sam's fists tightened by his side. 'I'll get you out of this, Dean. I promise.'
…………………………………………………………..Chapter Four…………………………………………………………
The time had come to get his brother free of Charlie's spirit no matter what it took. Between the new possible threat of Mama Collette and the ever-growing threat of the inept Charlie, he couldn't afford to play it safe anymore: he needed to figure out what had happened and try the best solution.
Dean looked up from his kneeling position on the floor, the hang-dog expression on his face and the hunched shoulders spoke volumes. "I'm sorry," he apologized, addressing the newly arrived spirit.
"Don't be sorry, Charlie, honey," Mama Collette replied, moving her shadowy hand from Dean's shoulder to his head. "Just be careful."
"I'll try."
The whispered, compliant tone sent Sam spiraling off the crumbling edge of restraint. He pulled himself to his full height, puffed out his chest and glared at Collette. "How about we try the version of the story where you let my brother go?"
Mama Collette raised her head and turned her dark eyes on Sam. "You."
Sam stepped closer to Dean, his leg tight up against Dean's shoulder. He didn't know what the Voodoo priestess might do, but it wasn't reassuring that she seemed to recognize him. She drifted closer and Sam could feel the cold rush of her dead fingers on his shoulder. He suppressed a shudder as the cold seeped into his already aching joint.
"You tried to keep Dean away from me," she purred. "You tried to prevent me from gaining a new body for my faithful servant, Charlie." She moved her hand to stroke Dean's hair affectionately before pressing strong fingers into Sam's injured shoulder again.
"Dean's my brother," Sam said with a note of finality. "You need to let him go."
"That tone worked on Charlie, didn't it?" Mama Collette asked, moving her hand from his shoulder, down his arm and entwined her fingers with his. "It won't work with me, Sam. I expect more than barked orders."
"What do you want?" Sam asked, grinding his teeth.
Mama Collette stepped closer to Sam sandwiching their clasped hands between them. "I want you to take my remains and perform the cleansing ritual to release my spirit."
"Your remains?" Sam forced himself to stand his ground. He wanted to take a step away from her, to shake his hand free from her icy death-grip, but Dean came first. He would stand his ground because she wasn't getting any closer to his brother if he could prevent it.
Collette let out a sigh of long-suffering. "Yes. I was a revered voodoo priestess and my older brother was jealous. He had aspirations of becoming a priest but he lacked knowledge and a true affinity and belief in our religion. Ambition without passion is a dangerous combination. He murdered me to claim my rightful place and to conceal his secret he dumped my ashes here."
"I'm sorry," Sam said and he truly meant it. He couldn't imagine having an older brother that wanted what you had so much he would kill for it. The concept was so contrary to everything he knew that he couldn't fully wrap his brain around it. "But, how can we find your remains to perform the ceremony if he dumped your ashes in the ride? The current and the water filters alone would have destroyed, removed or scattered them beyond all hope."
"True." Collette released Sam's hand and he nearly sagged in relief. The cold numbing grip had climbed up his arm and started to freeze his insides. "But he also dropped my earrings into the water. Charlie found them for me."
"The treasure." Suddenly it became clear. Charlie had stashed the earrings with the other prop jewelry pieces to keep them safe.
"Yes." Mama Collette drift-walked to the other side of the small room and lit several candles on the table. They burned with a hot, blue-orange flame yet the candles themselves appeared transparent. "Take my earrings to the ocean, perform the ceremony and I'll release your brother."
"No." Sam looked down at his brother. Dean was sitting on the ground, cradling his head in his hands. The double-whack to the cranium must have thrown the spirit in Dean for a loop. His brother would never have shown this much reaction unless he was dying. A jolt of fear shot through him. Dean isn't dying, is he?
"Your brother is fine," Mama Collette replied as she approached Sam once more. "He has found a way to attack from within and he is fighting in earnest now. It doesn't matter; I can always bind him again. Don't forget that. Though I do wish he'd leave poor Charlie alone. This really isn't his fault."
"I'm not taking performing the ceremony for you until you release my brother." Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. Keep fighting it, Dean.
"Then we are at an impasse." The candles on the far wall flared briefly then settled back to a bright flicker. "I cannot trust you and you do not trust me."
"It's not a matter of trust," Sam disagreed. Collette's dark eyes gazed at him with a brightness he had not seen in a spirit before. "It's not only a matter of trust. I won't leave my brother here under the control of a, let's face it, idiotic spirit while I do you a favor. Charlie's already managed to kill two people. Dean's not going to be a third."
Collette laughed, a surprisingly lively, merry laugh for a spirit. "He is a bit daft. Poor Charlie, he was a doctor in life. He believed in his science so much that he donated his body as a medical specimen upon his death. There's only a few of his bones remaining here and most of Charlie moved on with them."
"The smart part," Sam muttered. He tilted his head marginally and scrunched his face briefly. "He didn't have to tell you that. Somehow, you just know, don't you?"
Collette nodded. "I have retained many of my abilities even in this form. But even I cannot break free from this physical prison my spirit is trapped inside. If you use my earrings in the cleansing ceremony, then I will be free."
"Not without my brother."
A thin smile appeared on Collette's face. "You are why he fights Charlie. Interesting." Collette drifted back to the candles and turned her back on Sam.
Dean moaned low in his chest, the pain-filled noise growing until it came out as a strangled gasping cry. "Please, Mama Collette, do something. I'm sorry I lost the battle with the thief, but the other interfered."
"I know, mon bien-aimé," Collette cooed from across the room. "Come here."
"Dean, don't." Sam reached for Dean's arm, but Dean easily shook free.
"Don't worry," Collette reassured him. "I am letting him go."
Sam followed Dean to the back table. He didn't trust Mama Collette and he didn't trust Charlie. He would not be happy until Dean was alone in his own skin again. Having someone else in your body, poking around in your thoughts and memories was not a pleasant experience. "What are you going to do?"
Collette ignored Sam and handed a cup to Dean. She tapped the bottom of the cup and he obediently started drinking before Sam rushed forward and knocked the cup from Dean's hands. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" he snarled.
"I've released him," Mama Collette said, her calm tone the polar opposite of Sam's angry growl. "Look."
A small yellow orb bounced out of Dean's mouth and hovered near Mama Collette. She nodded and it disappeared through the windowless wall. Dean sank to his knees with a gasping moan and Sam was in front of him in a flash. He rested his hands on Dean's shoulders to support him. "Dean, are you okay?"
Dean looked up from his kneeling position on the floor and just for a moment a look of fear in his green eyes was visible before it disappeared, as usual, behind a wall of cocky indifference. "Well, that sucked."
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Dean tried pushing himself to standing and nearly face-planted on the wooden floor. Apparently it was possible to forget how to control your own body. His second attempt to stand went much better, but part of it could be attributed to the strong grip Sam had on his elbow. "I got it, Sam."
"I know you do," Sam replied, but the grip on his elbow remained firm.
Dean blinked sluggishly attempting to bring the world into focus. Colors swirled out of the lines and his head felt fuzzy. He licked his lips and swallowed trying to force moisture down his desert-dry throat. Awareness crept back slowly and he focused bleary eyes on his brother's face hovering only inches from his own. "Is my shirt gone?"
Sam puffed a laugh. "Yeah, dude, apparently part of the pirate code involves running around shirtless."
"What?" He remembered that, sort of: the treasure, hiding in a cave with Sam, the swordfight. "You punched me." He rubbed the sore spot on his jaw.
"I owed you one," Sam replied lightly. Dean opened his mouth to reply, but Sam cut in before he could form a response. "Are you okay?"
"I'm better than okay," Dean quipped, tilting sideways a little before Sam tugged him upright.
"What did you give him?" Sam asked. "Something's wrong."
"M'fine," Dean said. The muscles in his legs trembled and he fought to steady his stance.
"You're not fine," Sam said before turning back to Mama Collette. "What did you give him?"
"I gave you something," Collette corrected. The flame from the transparent candles flickered brighter, casting shadows of the Winchesters on the walls.
"Me?" Sam's grip tightened on Dean's elbow.
"Not s'tight," Dean protested. He squirmed against the binding hold on his elbow. Sam did not release him, but he did soften his grip.
"I gave you your brother back," Mama Collette responded. "And the opportunity to save him."
"Save him?" Sam's voice choked a little.
He couldn't let Sam take a deal with the Mama Loa. They couldn't fight the Crossroads deal. He didn't want to risk it. He wouldn't. "No." It came out as a whisper against paper dry lips.
"What opportunity?" Sam asked, ignoring Dean's feeble protest.
"Not that opportunity, I'm afraid, mon bien-aimé," Collette replied, placing a cold hand against Dean's cheek. "Although, I do have a few thoughts on that as well."
"Then what opportunity?" Sam asked again.
The shadows on the walls from the flickering candles danced and morphed until butterflies flitted across the wall. One of the shadowed butterflies broke free and flew towards Dean turning a brilliant blue and green on route. It sparkled brightly in a shower of turquoise and emerald before fizzling out. "Sammy?"
"Dean?" Sam's face appeared again in front of him as another butterfly broke free from the wall and headed for Sam.
Crimson sparkles glittered around his little brother's head. "Sammy, I think something's wrong. The butterflies are exploding."
Sam squinched his face and Dean patted at the wrinkles in his brother's forehead. "No frowning. Everything's good. Just the butterflies."
"What did you do?" The words left Sam's mouth in a loud clang of brass bells. Dean shook his head. Sam did not sound like that. Ever.
"I gave you incentive, Sam," Mama Collette replied with tinkling silver bells.
"Incentive?"
"You help me. I help Dean," Mama Collette replied. "I know you're a smart man, Sam. Your brother definitely believes it. But you don't have enough time to figure out what you need to do and save Dean on your own. You're going to have to let me help him. First, however, you need to do a favor for me."
"Perform the ceremony." Dean winced against the brassy anger in Sam's voice.
"Perform the cermony," the silver bells confirmed. "You have approximately twelve hours before the effects of the poison cannot be reversed. Destroy the earrings or fail in my request and Dean will die."
Dean could feel the heat of anger rolling off his brother in giant waves. It was hot, but it didn't burn. He was feeling pretty good actually. "Don't do it, Sammy. Can't trust her. She's a spirit."
"I don't really have a choice, Dean," Sam said, the brass was gone replaced by Sam's normal voice if just a little off. "Charlie went all Jim Jones disciple in your body and drank the funky Kool-aid."
"Sorry 'bout that. Tasted bad." He swayed slightly, dipping low to avoid a vivid orange butterfly.
"It's okay, Dean, it wasn't your fault." Sam placed an arm around his waist and the grip on his elbow remained.
"I'm fine, Sam," Dean protested. The butterflies were distracting, but they weren't terribly threatening. Kind of beautiful, actually. I wonder why they keep sparkling like that?
"Humor me." Sam said, his voice cracking slightly. "After years of enduring your mother hen routine, you can put up with mine for five minutes."
"Five minutes," Dean replied, surprisingly pliable and his words slurring. "That's it."
"Charlie went for the earrings," Collette interjected. "When he returns, you may leave."
"You know what he's facing, you know what happens when he dies, you must know," Sam said, his voice growing in volume. "What makes you think for a minute I'm going to help you?"
"I don't," Collette said. "That's why I'm offering you the chance to help Dean instead."
"It's blackmail, pure and simple," Sam countered.
Dean tried to tell Sam it was okay, that he'd be okay, but at the moment standing was taking most of his focus. "Don't…" He felt Sam's arm shift on his back and whatever Sam had done made it easier to stand. "I, don't…." What the heck is wrong with me?
"It may be blackmail," Mama Collette said. "But I have no choice. Charlie read in Dean's thoughts that you would be back and that you would try to find a way to get rid of us. I know I can't resurrect, my brother saw to that, but if you take my earrings to the ocean and perform the cleansing ritual I can be free."
Dean frowned. Ceremonies and rituals sounded too much like magic or spells and neither of those had ever brought his family any good. "Sam, no."
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"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam said. He had to take this chance with Mama Collette and help Dean. There wasn't any other choice to make. "How am I going to get the antidote after the ceremony? If your spirit is free and you move on, Dean will die regardless."
"I will be able to leave here and join you at the ocean when you start the ceremony. The instructions for the antidote will be with me." Mama Collette drifted to the altar again and the tiny bobbing light emerged from the other side of the wall. "Thank you, Charlie. I knew you could do it."
The little light bobbed merrily and floated about the room once in slow motion and then it zipped in wild zigzags before disappearing again. "Crazy Charlie." Dean's legs buckled and Sam shored up his hold on him. "Dean, you still with me?"
"Yeah, just tired," the mumbled reply sounded garbled. Dean swatted at something in front of him and turned his head lazily to look up at Sam. "I feel fine."
"Not terribly reassuring," Sam said. Collette drifted back towards Sam and the fine hairs on his arms stood up. The air grew cold and Sam shivered. Angry or just upset, Collette put off all the trade markers for a restless spirit. She held out her hand and Sam squeezed Dean harder with his good arm to hold out his other. Gold hoop earrings dropped into his outstretched hand and the intense cold metal burned against his skin.
"Here is the ceremony and a list of supplies you will need." Collette handed him a crumpled piece of yellowed paper. He glanced at the fancy script and the foreign words in black ink. The ceremony was written in French. Perfect. He couldn't pick out more than a word or two. It would take him over an hour to decipher the unknown language.
"You're from New Orleans?" he asked.
"Before the hurricane, oui," Collette replied, turning her dark eyes on Sam's hazel. "I would have liked you, Sam, you and your brother. I'm truly sorry it has to be this way."
Sam tamped down his anger. Another spirit was making their lives harder than they already were and he didn't have the compassion for the meddlesome spirits he once did. He simply didn't have the time to indulge them anymore. He didn't have enough time period. "We're going to have some trouble getting out of here. Dean and I fighting in the bayou attracted some attention."
"I have taken care of that." Collette made a sweeping motion with her arms and a narrow doorway opened into a dark passage way. She waved her hand and candles lit one after another down the corridor. "This passage leads to the outside."
Sam nodded in acknowledgement. "Come on, Dean, let's get out of here."
"Okay," Dean replied, not moving until Sam took a step forward. Sam grunted as all of Dean's weight slammed into him. Dean was going to be next to no help getting out of here. "Sorry," Dean apologized.
"It's okay, Dean," Sam said, his voice strained. "We'll take it slow."
"Good," Dean slurred. "Slow is good."
Sam renewed his hold on Dean and together they carefully picked their way down the candlelit corridor, the candles behind them extinguishing as they passed by.
………………………………………………………….Supernatural…………………………………………………………
AN: Sorry this chapter is late. I'm blaming it on my mini-vacation!