Chapter 8: Azazel Winchester or John Winchester?
Bella wasn't all that impressed with the rough backwoods cabin John had apparently chosen as the Winchester staging area, but she reminded herself that this wasn't her party. She decided to do her best to stay out of everyone's way, although she did insist on checking John's head wound again.
Dean and Sam were outside at the moment taking inventory of their weapons, leaving her alone with John. Bella felt that same unease again, that same feeling that John was watching her with animosity in his eyes when her back was turned, but every time she glanced over at him, his expression was bland and neutral.
"Bella, do you love Dean?"
The directness of the question threw her. Of course she did – she thought she did – but she hadn't even said as much to Dean yet.
"Um, why do you ask?"
she countered, stalling. Hoping Dean or Sam would come back in and rescue her from the awkwardness. It was also the way John was looking at her. It was distinctly creepy. Like he was almost thinking... John's hand firmly grasped her elbow, drawing her closer before she had a chance to resist.
"I've been watching you,"
he whispered gravelly, close to her cheek, hot breath caressing her skin.
"You're too much woman for a boy like him."
Bella didn't need to be a genius to see what was going on here. Or what John was suggesting. Her stomach clenched into a tight knot.
"Mr. Winchester," she said as steadily as she could, "Please let go of my arm."
He didn't. If anything, his grip tightened, and he leaned in even further, until she could barely feel his lips brushing her ear.
"You're a beautiful woman. Intelligent. You need a man, someone who could offer you so much more. I could do that for you, Bella."
It didn't make any sense. First he was cold towards her, then he acted as if he despised her, and now this? His grip on her arm was tight enough now that she'd have to fight hard to get away if he didn't release her voluntarily. How could she get out of this? With relief, she heard Dean's and Sam's voices from just outside the cabin.
Dean pulled the rough cabin door open, blinking a little at the scene in front of him. Bella was backing away from Dad, looking upset, while Dad had this very strange expression on his face. Satisfaction? Dean didn't know, but in an instant, it was gone, and Dad was all business again, coming towards him and Sam and asking about the state of their weapons and ammo.
"What happened?"
he mouthed at Bella, but she just shook her head. Something was wrong. Dean still didn't know what, exactly, couldn't put his finger on it, but something was off. On top of everything else that had been troubling Dean, Sammy had been complaining lately about a steadily increasing headache, ever since they'd rescued Bella. Like his visions, Sam had said, but the visions themselves hadn't come. Just the pain. And Dean still thought that Dad was being…weird. It wasn't just the fact that Dad wasn't arguing with Dean the way Dean might have expected, given the current state of affairs. Having Bella with them should've been a big sticking point with Dad, but John hadn't protested at all.
But it was also the way Dad was reacting to Bella. Yes, he'd accepted her presence, but he seemed to be very passive-aggressive about it. A few times, Dean had caught John glaring at Bella. At first, he'd dismissed it as Dad being moody and taking it out on their unwelcome guest, but the more he thought about it, the more it felt off to him. Dad wasn't the passive type. If he was unhappy with the status quo, he'd let you know. Loudly, angrily, and out in the open. More often with Sam, sure, but that was only because Dean usually went along with Dad's wishes. Now that Dean was finally sticking up for what he wanted, shouldn't Dad and he be at each other's throats, instead of Dad glaring daggers at Bella because he didn't want her there? Not to mention the strangeness of what had just happened between Bella and Dad. Still, Dean couldn't shake the feeling that something big was wrong. Dean knew it, could feel it in his bones, but he didn't know what it was. He needed time to sit down, figure it out, but he didn't have the luxury. What was it? He saw Sam wince and rub at his forehead again, and Dean pushed his misgivings aside for the moment and went over to him.
"Still bad, huh?"
"Yeah, fucking codeine is doing nothing, dude."
Dean was really starting to worry. Maybe Sammy wasn't cut out for this? He'd never been as into hunting as Dean and Dad were. Maybe, now that the chips were down, Sammy was folding?
"Hang in there, Sammy," Dean said, slapping him on the shoulder. "We'll get the bastard. Soon."
"Don't call me Sammy," Sam groused, rubbing his forehead still. "And stop treating me like I'm some nervous schoolgirl."
"Well, I just thought…."
"I know what you thought. This isn't like a stress headache. I'm not scared of going after the Demon. I told you. It's like the visions-" That was when Sam's expression turned worried. "Maybe this has something to do with the Demon? Like, maybe it knows we're here, and it's trying to take me out? Putting out some bad vibes or something?"
Dean didn't like the sound of that, not at all, but he couldn't see anything they could do about it, either. Other than stick to the plan. He patted the Colt he was still wearing. He'd had it ever since they'd rescued Bella.
"If it is the Demon, Sammy – Sam – I've got the cure right here. Three bullets, three chances to…"
That was when it hit him, like a punch to the jaw. Three bullets. That was it. Three chances. When they could've had four. He'd used one of those bullets on Meg. Used up one of their precious chances to kill the Demon once and for all. And Dad had never mentioned it. Not once. Heck, he'd never even asked Dean for the gun back. Suddenly, it all made sense to Dean. Even down to Sam's inexplicable headache. Sam was watching him, his worry becoming even more apparent.
"Dean? What's wrong?"
From across the room, Dean saw Bella look over at them, obviously concerned by the tone of Sam's voice. That was when the lights in the cabin started to flicker, the wind picking up outside and screaming around the corners of the building. Dad strode rapidly over to the window, looking out.
"It found us! It's here."
"The Demon?"
Sam asked. Dean tightened his grip on the Colt. Watching his father. It was suddenly right down to the wire, just like that, and he knew he had a decision to make. Maybe the most important one of all their lives.
"Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, every door." John ordered.
"Already did it." Sam reminded him.
"Well, check it again, okay?"
John insisted, and Sam nodded and left the room. Leaving Dean alone with both Bella and his Dad. Who might not be his Dad.
"Dean, you got the gun?" John was asking.
"Yeah,"
Dean answered. But he didn't hand it over. He looked over at Bella, who was pale and almost visibly shaking. It wasn't supposed to go down like this. She wasn't supposed to have a front-row seat. Could he get her out of here somehow?
"Give it to me," John was saying, his hand out.
Dean tried stalling.
"Dad, maybe we ought to check first what's going on? Lots of things cause power surges…."
He needed more time, damn it. He needed to sit down and think things through, decide if all the clues added up to what he feared. John ignored Dean's insubordination as if it hadn't happened, still looking out the window.
"Quickly, Dean. Hurry."
Even that was wrong. Dad should've been yelling, demanding the Colt. Getting impatient with Dean and his slow response to orders.
"Son, please,"
John coaxed, looking back at Dean, a pleading expression on his face. Dean took a few slow steps back from Dad. Every second that went by, he was more convinced. Dad should be popping him in the jaw and taking the gun. Or at least getting very frustrated with him. Instead, John looked confused and afraid.
"Give me the gun. What are you doing, Dean?"
Dean stepped slowly back until he was standing next to Bella.
"Dean, what's going on?" she asked him, clearly unsettled.
Dean didn't answer her, just addressed the man in front of them.
"You'd be furious."
John was finally starting to look angry.
"What?"
"That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn't be taking it in stride like this. He'd tear me a new one. This is the most important thing in his life, the most important hunt. Everything he's worked towards, ever since Mom died. I use up one bullet, one of his chances to kill this fucking thing, and he never even brings it up?" Dean raised the Colt and cocked it.
"You're not my dad."
Bella put out a hand, cautiously, but pulled it back before she touched Dean.
"Dean, wait, are you sure-?"
"Dean, for God's sake, it's me," Dad said. But Dean wasn't buying it.
"I know my dad better than anyone. And you ain't him," he growled, and shot a look at Bella. 'I know what I'm talking about', that look said.
"What the Hell has gotten into you?" The thing inside his Dad tried again.
Dean chuckled bitterly.
"I could ask you the same thing."
Except he was pretty sure he already knew. The only real question was whether this was a minor player, or the big badass himself?
Dad – not-Dad's – eyes shifted, and Dean glanced over to see Sam coming up to join them.
"Dean! What the Hell is…." Sam started, eyes wide.
"Your brother's lost his mind," Dad said, sounding desperate.
Dean gritted his teeth and kept a tight bead on his father.
"He's not our Dad,"
"What?" Sam asked.
Dean almost couldn't get the words out for a moment. As if saying them would somehow make this more real, even more inescapable. But he had to.
"He's possessed. I think he's been possessed since we rescued Bella."
"Don't listen to him, Sammy," Dad pleaded.
Sam looked from Dean to Dad and back, looking scared and confused himself.
"How do you know, Dean?"
"He's different, He hasn't said word one about me using a bullet back there. Or about having Bella along. That sound like the Dad we know?"
"We don't have time for this," Dad rasped. "Sammy, if we're going to kill this Demon, you have to trust me."
That was when Bella spoke up, sounding timid and afraid.
"I don't know if this helps, but while you were both outside just now, he…he…made a pass at me."
Oh God. Dean's gaze flicked over to Sam. No way, Dad would never do anything like that. Ever. If Dean needed further proof…He could see from Sam's face, that Sam felt exactly the same.
"Sam?" The thing masquerading as their father asked.
"No."
Sam said, first weakly, and then with more strength. He walked slowly over until he was standing by Dean's other side. John looked back and forth between the two of them, ignoring Bella, his eyes starting to tear up.
"Fine," he said, shoulders slumping. "If you're both so sure, then do it. Kill me."
He looked beseechingly at them for another few heart-freezing seconds, then lowered his head.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Dean was sure – absolutely sure – that this wasn't his Dad. But if his Dad was possessed, what could Dean do about it? He couldn't kill his own father. Not even to free him from possession. Tears stung Dean's eyes as well, and his grip on the gun faltered. An eternity passed, while the four of them stood frozen, trapped. Then Dad spoke again, but this time his voice was deeper, raspier…and amused.
"I thought so," he said with a chuckle.
Dean only got a glimpse of his father's face, the eyes a swirling haze of yellow, before Dean was picked up as if by a giant, invisible hand, and flung against the wall. He felt the Colt jerked out of his grip, even as Sam's yell and Bella's scream of terror ripped into his ears. Dean tried to push himself out from the wall, to go to Bella, to go to Sam, to go retrieve the precious gun, but he couldn't move. He was pinned to the wall like a butterfly on a pin. He could do nothing but watch with hate and despair as the thing wearing his Dad like a suit of clothes sauntered over to the Colt and picked it up.
"What a pain in the ass this thing's been,"
it said, still chuckling. Twisting helplessly against the invisible force, Dean stared across the room into Bella's tear-streaked face.
"It's you, isn't it?" Sam growled at the Demon.
"Yep, you found me," It drawled, grinning viciously at them, yellow eyes gleaming poisonously. "Lucky, lucky you."
"I'm gonna kill you!" Sam yelled, obviously trying to struggle, but Dean could see it was having no more effect than his own efforts.
"That would be a neat trick, wouldn't it? Just how strong are you, Sammy?" Still grinning, it plunked the Colt down on the rough table. "Here ya go. Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy."
Dean watched, his heart in his throat. Sam was concentrating, but….nothing happened. The Colt didn't even tremble, and the Demon chuckled low again in its throat, like gravel rubbing together.
"No? I'm disappointed in you, Sammy."
It strolled over until it was next to Dean, looking out the dirty window.
"This is fun. I could've killed all three of you a thousand times in the last few days, but this…"
It sighed deeply with satisfaction, and Dean felt his hate magnify.
"This is worth the wait."
This was the monster that had murdered Mom, and Sam's girlfriend, and destroyed untold numbers of other families. And now it had them. Dean couldn't believe this was happening, that it was going down like this. Couldn't believe that he could do nothing to stop it, change it. The Demon sidled closer, and Dean tried not to flinch.
"Your daddy? He's in here with me, trapped inside his own meat suit."
It grinned even wider, a mockery of Dad's smile.
"He says 'hi', by the way. He's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."
Mouth dry, Dean didn't have a comeback for that. That's when the Demon looked across the room. Straight at Bella.
"Hmmm," it mused, eyes alight with glee. "Maybe I'll let him taste your girlfriend, first, so to speak. Twenty-two years is a long time to be without any tail. You don't mind sharing her, do you, Dean-O?"
"Leave her alone,"
Dean demanded, but the Demon was already striding leisurely over to stand in front of a very frightened-looking Bella. Like it had all the time in the world.
It did.
"Hey, baby," it said to her, in a voice that made Dean's flesh crawl. "How about it? A little fun before you die?"
It put out one of his father's hands, sliding it over Bella's bruised cheek. Gasping, Bella twisted her head away from its touch.
"Yeah I can see why you thought Edward was this guy" Bella commented snidely
"Leave her alone!" Dean said more forcefully.
Laughing, it grabbed Bella by the chin and forced her head back, crushing John's lips down on hers, shoving its tongue inside her. Bella couldn't move, couldn't fight back, but Dean saw her hands clench into fists.
Dean fought harder than before, trying to get free, but it was useless. Desperate, he looked over at Sam, but there was no help there. Sam was fighting as hard as Dean, eyes locked to the Colt, but it was useless.
"Let her GO!"
Dean yelled, so loud something in his throat nearly gave way. Across the room, the Demon released Bella's mouth, its hand still tight around her chin. It looked over at Dean, licking its lips slowly.
"So sweet and tasty,"
it purred lasciviously, while Bella made a small whimpering noise, her eyes focused pleadingly on Dean.
"Take me instead," Dean gasped. "Let Sam, Dad and Bella go, and take me." Anything. Anything to save them.
Bella's eyes widened. "No, Dean!" Sam just watched, mouth open.
The Demon narrowed Dad's eyes, then released Bella, its expression thoughtful. It left her with one parting shot – Dean saw its hand brush down her breast and over her nipple as it dropped its hand from her, making her shudder – but at least it seemed to be leaving her alone. For now.
"That's a good point, Dean-O. I should."
It strode back over to stand in front of him, and Dean hid his sigh of relief that it wasn't at Bella anymore.
"I should," it repeated, standing in front of him, glaring into his eyes with its ugly yellow orbs. "You killed my daughter. Far as I'm concerned? This? Is justice."
"Meg?" Dean asked, guessing.
"Yeah," it confirmed, shifting even closer, hot breath falling on Dean's face. "I saw you shoot her. Saw you send my daughter to oblivion."
"You were there?"
Dean asked, not that he really cared. He was stalling again, trying to buy them more time. For what, he didn't know, but if they were going to do anything at all, they needed that.
"Yeah. I was watching, Dean. Waiting. How do you think I got into your Dad? When I saw my children weren't handling you three as easily as I thought, I waited til your Dad was down, and took the opportunity. Didn't think you'd actually waste one of your precious bullets that way, on anyone other than me. Since you did, and I'm not much for getting sent to oblivion, myself, playing Daddy seemed the best way to go. And so, here we are."
"Children? You? You've got to be kiddin' me."
"What? You and your kind are the only ones allowed to have a family? You killed my favorites daughter. How would you feel if I killed your family?"
Dean said nothing, just met the Demon's gaze with his own hate and rage.
It smiled. the self-satisfied expression back on its face. "Oh, wait, that's right. I forgot. I did." It leered at him. "Still, two wrongs don't make a right. Won't stop me from taking even more of your family. John lost sweet Mary, Sammy lost Jess, but I haven't taken any of your whores."
"You son of a bitch," Dean spat. "You-"
"I want to know why," Sam interrupted, from his own imprisonment. "Why'd you do it?"
It turned slowly, almost teasingly, towards Sam.
"You mean, why'd I kill your Mommy? Your pretty little Jessica?"
"Yeah," Sam challenged.
Sneering back at Dean, the Demon strode over to stand in front of Sam.
"You never told Dean-O, did you? That you were going to ask sweet Jessica to marry you? That you'd gone ring shopping three days before I sliced, diced, and flambéed her on your ceiling?" It stopped, laughing coldly up at Sam. "You wanna know why? Because they got in the way."
Dean took the opportunity to keep on fighting, doing his best to find a weakness in the force paralyzing him, trying to capitalize on the Demon's divided attention, but still to no effect. What could they do? How long could they keep trading its attention back and forth between the two of them like this?
"In the way of what?" Sam demanded angrily.
"My plans for you, of course, Sammy," It said, a note in its voice that was almost seductive. "You….and all the children like you."
Dean shook his head – as much as he could, anyways – suddenly deciding they couldn't keep doing this. The Demon was apparently strong enough to keep the three of them effortlessly pinned for as long as it wanted. Dean had to take a chance. Draw more of the thing's attention, its ire, and hope that its control over Sam – or Bella, for that matter – would slip. Maybe what had happened before with Max would happen again. Maybe the trauma of seeing Dean in danger would spur Sam's fledgling telekinesis back into the open. It was the only chance Dean thought they had.
"Listen," Dean interrupted. "You mind just gettin' this over with? 'Cause I really can't stand the monologue."
He heard Bella gasp in dismay.
"Dean, what are you-"
she whispered, shocked, but Dean avoided looking at her. He kept his eyes on the Demon, challenging it. 'Come and get me, you bastard'.Taking the bait, it strolled back over to stand nose-to-nose with Dean.
"Funny, Dean-O. But wait, that's all part of your M.O., isn't it? Use humor to mask all that nasty pain. Mask the truth."
Dean snorted. "Oh yeah? What's that?" C'mon, c'mon Sammy. Do something.
It grinned at him sadistically.
"You fight and you fight for this family, but the truth? They don't need you. Not like you need them."
It motioned with its head in the direction of his brother.
"Sam? He's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you. And Bella? You think she's in love with you? Nah. She loves her sparkly ex. But he is too much of a wimp to take advantage of her willingness to spread those white thighs for him, so she settled for you instead. Stupid, 'lead-me-around-by-my-cock' Dean Winchester. Pathetic, isn't it? That you want so much to belong to someone, anyone? Whether it's Bella, Daddy, or even Sammy. Anyone will do."
Dean's rage built, higher and higher, and he let it. There was nothing else he could do, except distract the thing, draw its fire, keep its attention on him and away from Bella and Sam. Nothing but hope that Sam's telekinetic ability came back, that it proved strong enough to break free and shoot the thing. Without killing Dad in the process.
"Yeah, I bet you're real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh, wait, I forgot. I wasted your 'favorite' one. Too bad,"
he smiled at the Demon, hiding his fear behind the hate and rage. You hurt me, and you leave them alone, he dared it, silently. The Demon said nothing, just stared at him for another eternity. Then it stepped slowly back, lowering its head. When it looked up again a moment later, there were red lights curling far back in the depths of those damned eyes.
Sudden pain tore through Dean, worse than any wound he'd ever felt before. Something was inside him, ripping his chest slowly open, and he screamed in agony. The screams of Bella and Sam seemed to come from somewhere in the far distance, his own sounds of pain ringing in his ears. Those red-yellow eyes swam in front of him, mocking through the pain-haze.
"Dad! Dad, stop it! Don't you let it kill me!" Reduced by pain to pleading with his Dad.
But he only felt another series of cuts start, only tasted blood in his mouth. Sammy, Daddy-
It was too strong. It was killing him, and he knew he was going to die without being able to save any of them. He made one last-ditch effort through the pain and blood.
"Dad, please," he begged, broken, feeling tears sliding down his cheeks.
The blackness was already sucking him down, deep and fast. Still, even as he lost consciousness, Dean thought he heard Dad's voice – Dad's voice – saying
"Stop."
