Wicked Intent
Coffeemaniac
Warnings: Suggestive situations, Violence
Season 1
Set between The Benders and Shadow
A reviewer found a pretty big plot hole. (Thanks, JaniceC378) This updated chapter closes it.
Dean held Rose in the crook of his arm. He could count on one hand the number of times that he'd held an infant that wasn't his brother. Even with Sam, he didn't hold him much until after Sam turned two. Their father felt that Dean needed to be at least six years old before carrying the toddler around. By then, Sam wanted to walk more than he wanted to be held.
Other than having Sam propped up in a baby seat while Dean held the bottle, this was his first experience with feeding a baby. She watched him with her round, blue eyes while she sucked on the bottle. Her fingers brushed against his. The weight of her tiny body felt warm. He was surprised by the satisfaction he felt at watching her eat.
He smiled when she gurgled. Kaylee told him to use a burp rag on his shoulder but he used the pink blanket instead. After she took half the bottle, he propped her up. Rose made an unhappy sound but didn't actually cry. Patting her back, Dean rocked slowly.
It took longer than he expected but Rose made a loud, unholy noise then he frowned as warmth wetted his shoulder. He pulled her back on to his arm, snatched up the blanket and wiped her mouth off. Now, he knew why a burp rag was preferred. She smiled, her arms and legs flailing and he gave the bottle back. The vomit, 'spit up?' had soaked through the blanket into his shirt. Annoyed that he'd have to change, he finished feeding her.
He burped her again, got splattered again then grinned when she slipped off to sleep against his chest.
He wadded up the pink blanket and tossed it on the floor, set Rose in the center of the bed, on her back as instructed, and watched her breathe for a moment. Satisfied that she was safe, he grabbed a green blanket out of the diaper bag and covered her, then placed pillows on either side of her. Apparently, sometimes infants roll over and pillows keep them in place.
Dean stood up, looking down at her and wondering if he should have changed her diaper before letting her sleep. He shivered as a cold shaft of air swept over him. The atmosphere seemed to crackle. His breath appeared like smoke. So did hers.
Dean cursed as he moved away from the bed, heading for his duffle bag where he kept the shotgun and salt rounds. His stomach clenched and his skin tingled. Keeping his eyes on Rose, he searched by feel alone. He didn't feel the cold anymore but he could still see her breath hovering. She closed her hands into fists.
His chest felt tight as he snatched up the weapon then scanned the room, looking for the spirit he knew must be there. A mirror hanging over the desk caught his attention and he spied an emaciated figure in the reflection. Dressed in black robes with long, stringy hair, she stared back at him. Her fingers looked like knobby sticks and her black nails curled. With big, dark eyes, her white skin looked translucent. A long tongue slithered out from her narrow lips.
Dean grabbed a handful of salt rounds and dropped them in his pocket. He looked up and found the monster in the mirror had been replaced with a beautiful woman. She peered out at him. Thick black hair curled over narrow shoulders. Her form fitting silk dress revealed narrow hips and the swell of breasts. She smiled and he spun around, firing the shotgun through her. She scattered into smoke.
Finding the iron rod he stored next to the bed, Dean stood up holding the shotgun in one hand and the rod in the other. He swung the rifle on to his shoulder, glad he'd left the strap in place after practice shooting.
He rushed forward, dropped the iron bar and picked Rose up from the bed. Startled, the baby cried out as he set her inside the stroller. He grabbed her green blanket and the bar then ran towards the door. A hiss from behind, long and ugly, sent him spinning around, swinging automatically. The iron swept through the Harionago and she evaporated.
Only to appear instantly.
No longer looking human, the bony creature growled low deep. Her hair curled upward as her lips pulled back in a snarl. Claws descended from the black strands, clacking together as they lifted towards her shoulders. Razor points like shark teeth crowded outward, reaching and snapping. Slender, shining lengths formed, glinting in the dim motel light. All of it underscored by hissing and growling from the creature's throat. Dean turned his back, putting himself between the ghost and the baby. Rose shrieked. Dean cried out as something sliced into his back.
He rushed outside, shoving the stroller on to the sidewalk and slamming the door shut. An inhuman wail followed them. Something thumped against the door and he found a blade pressed through the wood.
Cursing he hurried into the middle of the parking lot. He stopped and slid the iron rod and the shotgun beneath the stroller. Setting the green blanket and then the diaper bag on top of them, he hoped no one would notice. Remembering there was a park a block away, he jogged in that direction, pushing the squalling baby and ignoring the throbbing of his shoulder.
Dean dismissed the disdainful looks from strangers as he jogged along with Rose still crying loudly from the stroller. When he reached the edge of the park he took a quick look around then made a beeline to an empty bench. Wincing at the pain in his back he checked on Rose and found a red faced infant with her hands clenched into tiny fists thrashing around.
Sighing, he reached in and pulled her out. He held her against his chest, bouncing her lightly, trying to calm her. A young woman approached slowly with a fake smile pasted on her face. She was holding the hand of a boy who looked like a toddler.
"Do you need some help?" The woman said. "My name is Sandra and I have a lot of experience with angry infants." She smiled at the boy. He smiled back.
Automatically feeling suspicious, Dean said, "I think she's calming down."
"Distracting her might help," Sandra said. "Does she have a rattle or a toy that she likes?"
He gave the stranger a stern glare. "I said she's all right."
"I know but, that's clearly not the case. Do you have a toy or a blanket? Maybe a pacifier?"
Scowling with anger but not wanting to cause a scene, Dean said, "I left her giraffe behind. Her mom says she likes it."
Sandra cocked her head, a question painted on her face.
"I'm babysitting," Dean said. "Her mother had to run an errand."
Sandra nodded before she crouched down and looked into the stroller. She pawed around while Dean continued bouncing Rose who was still crying but not as hard. He was hoping the overly helpful woman didn't look underneath the stroller and find his shotgun.
"Try patting her back," Sandra said. She continued looking for something. "Here we go."
She stood up and shook out the green blanket.
"It's not a toy but it might help," she said.
Rose made a gurgling noise then she started hiccupping instead of crying.
"That's better," Sandra said. She tucked the blanket around Rose and under Dean's fingers. "Just keep doing what you're doing. She's settling."
"Thanks for your help," he said, grudgingly. Hearing Rose screaming bothered him on different levels: from hating that she was upset to angry that she wouldn't quiet down. He used to have similar problems with Sam's infant outbursts.
"She needs to be changed," Sandra said.
Dean glared at her.
"It happens," she said then took the boy's hand. "Come on, Buster."
Sandra and Buster walked away. When they reached the sidewalk, she glanced back once more before continuing to wherever they were going.
Dean sat down on the bench. His shoulder ached, blood trickled down his back, and he needed to call Sam. He took a moment to look at Rose again and found her chewing on her fist while her eyes fluttered. Apparently, all the excitement tired her out.
He set her back in the stroller, took off an overly wet diaper and replaced it with a clean one. He covered her then pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed the first entry on his speed dial.
The phone rang a couple of times before Sam answered.
"The Harionago was in our room," Dean said. "I have the baby. We're at that park down the street."
"Is she all right?" Sam said.
"She's fine but we have to figure out what's drawing the ghost."
"We're outside Rick's building," Sam said. "Give us fifteen minutes to see if he knows anything then we'll head back. Dean, ditch the stroller, the baby bag…thing…whatever. Get you and her away from it."
"Yeah, right, why don't I leave a bomb behind too. I can't leave Harionago bait on the street. And I can't leave Rose someplace either so…get here. And bring a plan with you."
"Okay, okay," Sam said.
"I'm going to find an open space. Make a salt circle and wait for you. I'll text the address."
Dean disconnected. He looked around, feeling the energy pick up in the wind. Knowing he needed to get away from the park, he set Rose back in her stroller, glad to see her sleeping.
Turning in a slow circle, he searched the small neighborhood looking for a garage or a warehouse. He needed a place large enough to house both of them for a while. About halfway down the block, he spied a "For Sale" sign in the front yard of a house. He started jogging towards it, hoping the sellers weren't at home.
The light afternoon breeze had grown colder and his skin prickled with goosebumps.
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Sam bullied Kaylee into going up the steps to see Rick. She fought him using every argument in her arsenal because she wanted to get to Rose. He pushed back, falling on his experience, citing his faith in Dean and refusing to take the Impala anyplace but Rick's apartment. He hated forcing her away from the baby but they needed to see Rick. The anguish in Kaylee's eyes shined back at him but he refused to give in.
"Dean will keep her safe," he said as they climbed the narrow stairway towards Rick's apartment. The building was old with yellowing paint and thin carpet. Track lighting provided little illumination making the building feel dank.
"This is bullshit." Kaylee stopped about halfway up and turned around. "I never should have left her."
"If Rick can tell us what he brought back, we can burn it. End this thing," Sam said. He pointed towards the top landing. "Keep going."
She jogged up the rest of the stairs. Hurrying down the hall, she stopped in front of a door with numbers painted beneath a peep hole. She pounded against the wood.
The door opened revealing a painfully thin Rick Sullivan. With sunken cheeks and hollowed features, he looked back and forth between Kaylee and Sam. His hands were shaking as he folded his arms over his chest. The dark circles under his eyes looked painful against his pale skin. A bald patch, circular and random stood out against shaggy, brown hair.
Kaylee walked around him to get inside and Sam followed her.
The foul smell of old trash permeated the room. On the floor beside a chair, a clear bottle half filled with amber liquid sat.
"You brought home a souvenir," Sam said. His voice sounded loud in the morose apartment. "What is it and where is it?"
"It's just a story," He said, grinding his fingers into his skull.
"Rick," Sam said. He handed Rick the bottle of cheap scotch. "Make sense."
Kaylee's brother took a long drink, shuddering as he swallowed. He looked at his sister.
"Her name was Mei. She was attacked, stabbed. She made it home but she died outside, freezing. Her mother took the blanket from Mei's bed and made smaller blankets out of it. She gave them to a local orphanage. Kaylee, it was an act of love, to honor Mei. I told you that."
"Wait," Sam said, turning to Kaylee. "You knew this story?"
"I didn't think about it," she said.
"How did you not think about it when we're looking for an object that your brother brought back?"
"We're looking for a ghost, not an object. I'm sorry, I just didn't think about it."
Sam felt a tingle slide up his spine.
Kaylee grabbed her brother's shoulders tight enough to make him wince. "Then what happened? What did you do?"
"Nothing. I didn't do anything, I just…I started feeling weird, depressed. And paranoid, just really paranoid. I didn't know what was going on but after I left and moved back here, I felt so much better."
She shoved him back as she released him. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips were pressed together.
"When did you find out about the Harionago?" Sam said.
"In Japan. It was part of the legend. The tenshu, uh, store owner said her relative was murdered and started some curse."
"Did you do something?" Sam said. "Say some chant or words over the blanket? Did you try to summon the Harionago?"
"Why would I do that?" He looked at his sister, his face slack. "We laughed about it, remember? The crazy ghost story."
Sam froze for a moment as the truth crashed down on him. Holding his breath, he reached behind him for the Taurus. Kaylee looked between him and her brother. Wide eyed, her cheeks reddening, she stepped backwards towards the door. Sam drew the gun, dropping it to aim at her.
"What did you do?" Sam said. He didn't want to be right but knew that he was.
"What are you talking about?" She said.
"He didn't summon it. You did."
She took a slow breath then moved towards her brother. Rick looked down at her. He was visibly shaking.
"I wouldn't…" The words started then stopped. She swallowed. "I had to."
"What?" Rick said.
"My parents were rich but they were healthy and I couldn't wait. Bill was in too deep with all his gambling crap."
"What are you saying," Rick said, his voice high and breathless.
"She did a spell and brought the Harionago to the blanket," Sam said.
"It was so easy," Kaylee said. "I just read the words and it came. Then I left the blanket in the house and she was trapped with it." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "She was so angry."
"Rose was in the house," Rick said.
"She doesn't kill babies. Or women. Just men…like Dad…like Bill." Kaylee breathed out a shaky laugh. "Oh, I was scared. I mean, what if I was wrong? But, I had to trust the legend or it wouldn't have worked."
"What about mom?" Rick said.
Kaylee shook her head. "I don't know. She must have done something, fought it or…I don't know. I just know it was supposed to kill Dad and Bill but it screwed up."
Rick backed up a couple of steps and sank on to the couch. He dropped his head in his hands.
Kaylee turned to Sam. "I loved my mother. And Dad left half of his money to Rick and I. It would've been enough. I didn't know it would kill her."
"But, it did," Sam said.
She shook her head. "I know. And then Bill started talking about ghosts and I didn't know how to undo it. I was hoping it would just disappear or something."
"That's why you called me," Sam said to Kaylee. "You needed someone to get rid of it."
Anger tinged her words as she continued. "She wouldn't stop following me. I was afraid if I left the damn blanket someplace, she'd kill someone else. I didn't want that. I mean, I'm not crazy."
"Think you might be," Sam said.
"Oh, shut up. I planted the blanket at the house…you and your brother walking through the front door…I knew she'd show herself. But, you ran away instead of killing her. Then I had to drive all the way there just to get the stupid thing again."
Sam remembered when Dean watched her arrive back at the motel. They had no idea that she was retrieving the death blanket.
"Where is it now?"
"In the diaper bag. What else would I do with it?"
"You selfish bitch," Rick said. "You let me blame myself."
Kaylee's scowl turned to fear when she turned towards her brother.
Sam glanced over at him, stiffening when he saw the gun in Rick's hand. An open drawer in the end stand showed where it had come from. Sam swung his weapon towards him but before he could speak or fire, Rick blasted all eight rounds into his sister. Kaylee stared at him, shock painted over her face. She looked down to see blood pumping from the wounds before she tipped over, collapsing like an airless balloon.
Rick dropped the gun, crying out before covering his face again.
Sam stared between the siblings, heart pounding, breath caught in his chest. He reached into his pocket and phoned Dean. His brother didn't answer. He called 911 next and reported the shooting. He gave the address of Rick's apartment then hung up when she asked for Sam's name.
Running out the door and down the steps, Sam called Dean again.
