CHAPTER 9 - Kinda Like a Dementor
They drove down two miles of badly eroded, rough dirt road to get to Marty's cabin with Dean complaining the entire time about damaging his baby. Alex thought more than once that she should have brought her SUV and let Bobby take the Impala but didn't dare mention that right now. Dean was weirdly protective of his car and was very noticeably short-tempered after the first overhanging branch brushed its way down the sleek car's side. Sam, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as restrained.
"Dude, you whine worse than an old lady. The car's fine."
"Yeah, no thanks to you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" The Impala hit another pothole with a sharp thud. Sam rolled his eyes as Dean swore under his breath. "It's the road, Dean. You can't seriously blame any of this on an iPod jack that was hooked up for like two months! You have to let that go."
Though dirty, the cabin was solidly built and was definitely secluded. There were Devil's Traps all over the place; under every rug, on the ceiling of every room, and above every doorway. There were a couple in the shed out back and even one in the outhouse.
"Wow, this guy was seriously paranoid," Alex commented, tossing her bag on the couch and coughing in the dust cloud that arose from the disturbed cushion. "I take it he didn't live out here?"
Sam shook his head. "A lot of hunters have secluded cabins. In this line of work you never know when you're going to need to hide out for a while. Bobby must know of a hundred places just like this."
"There's no TV," Dean announced grumpily. "This place sucks already."
"It's better than the last cabin we spent the night in," Alex grinned at him.
Dean smiled back, tempted to make an innappropriate retort but chickening out at the last moment, surprising himself with his own restraint. He didn't like that she made him slightly nervous. He didn't do nerves with women but she had definitely him thrown off his game a little and that didn't happen often. Had this been a couple of years ago, he would have been allowing this to go past friends but he just didn't seem to have the stomach or the heart for it after what happened the last time he let himself get close to a woman. Well, an angel, really, but the Anna he had known was still very much a woman and the pain of turning her in to protect Sam was still far too fresh. "At least we brought Sasquatch to chop the firewood for us this time," he said with a jerk of his thumb at Sam.
"What? Why should...?" Sam started to protest but Dean just held up his bandaged arms.
Sam dropped his shoulders in defeat. Of course he would chop the wood. But first, he needed to eat. He hadn't eaten since before Dean had been captured and he was fairly certain Dean hadn't either, if his big brother's growling stomach was any indication.
Dean was already on his way to the small kitchen near the back of the cabin and Sam fell in behind him. The elder Winchester started rooting through the cupboards, looking for something to go along with the convenience store snacks they had picked up at the last pit stop.
"Alphaghetti, Spaghettio's, or mystery stew," he listed aloud as he slammed each can in turn on the counter above.
"Oooh, dibs on the Spaghettio's," Sam replied eagerly, grabbing the middle can and the can-opener from the countertop.
Dean stood up and froze for a second as wave of nostalgia swept over him at the sight that greeted him. His brother was bent over the can of Spaghettio's and Dean could barely see through the shaggy bangs to make out a look of intense concentration on his face as he struggled with the old, bent can opener. For a very brief moment, Sam was Sammy again; six years old, innocent and cheery, eager for his favourite canned meal and insisting on helping his big brother out with the family's dinner. Dean smiled at the flash of memory, his heart skipping a beat with the sheer impact of how much he loved his kid brother. Damn, he needed more moments like this. Moments to remind him this was still Sammy.
They were all scraping the bottom of their bowls less than ten minutes later. Sam didn't find the Spaghettio's to be as good as he remembered. In fact, he almost found himself wishing he hadn't talked Dean out of stopping at the greasy diner in Eagleton. After the unsatisfying meal, he made his way out back to get to work with the axe. There was a huge pile of sawn logs stacked in the rear clearing. He picked up the axe and started swinging, quickly working up a sweat by channeling all his pent-up anger and frustration into each swing.
Within an hour, he had chopped enough wood to keep the woodstove burning for a month but he kept going. He swung furiously at an unsuspecting piece of oak, splitting it in two with a loud crack and sending both halves flying off in each direction.
"Easy there, Tiger. I think it's dead."
Sam lowered the axe head to the ground, leaning on the end of the handle and breathing heavily. He turned to face his brother, who was standing on the porch ten feet behind him, sipping out of a whiskey flask and holding out a beer.
Sam took it gratefully, pulling at the front of his soaking wet T-shirt, peeling it away from his chest to allow the cool air to flow up across his skin.
"You alright?" Dean asked, a look of genuine concern on his face.
"Humph. I should be the one asking you that," Sam replied, taking a sip of his beer and looking down, avoiding his brother's eyes.
"I'm fine," came the standard reply. Then a pause. "Seriously, Sam. What's wrong?"
Sam rubbed his hand across his mouth, a Winchester sign of troubled thought that usually preceded either clamming up or the reluctant divulging of an honest emotion. Sam decided to go for the latter this time round. It was rare event that Dean actually wanted to talk about feelings; he should definitely take advantage of it.
"Dean, I'm sorry, man."
"Sorry for what? This wasn't your fault. I let my guard down, got sloppy."
Sam pursed his lips. "Not for that. I should have been there to get you out and I wasn't."
Dean shook his head in dismissal. "Look, I know I was seriously pissed when I saw Bobby and Lex coming in there, but Bobby explained everything. You didn't have a choice. I can accept that. If you'da shown up they woulda just killed me and split. They were terrified of you, after what you did at Brian's…" He let the sentence trail off, obviously regretting bringing up that subject for fear of starting another argument he probably wasn't up for right now.
It seemed all he and Dean did these days was argue. For four months Sam had agonized over losing his brother, wanting nothing more than to get him back... well, that and to tear Lillith's screaming head from her body for causing him that much pain to begin with. But now that Dean was back, it seemed as if they were farther apart than ever. And getting farther every day. He knew Dean sensed it as well but just hadn't called him on it yet. Just a matter of time, Sam supposed.
Now here was Dean, forgiving him again. Forgiving him for not saving his big brother when all Dean had ever done was save Sam's ass. Now that Dean was broken and fragile, it should be his turn to take the big brother role on. His turn to be the protector. But he just couldn't seem to fill those shoes and kept letting Dean down.
Sam remembered his conversation with Bobby after the demons had refused to allow him to deliver the medallion in exchange for Dean. The mechanic had kept his cool despite Sam's rising temper in the motel room and had finally pulled him outside for a private chat. Well, he had called it a chat but in Bobby-speak that meant a talking to.
"Look here, boy. I realize you don't wanna get anyone else involved, but she knows the risks of what she's offerin' to do and it may be your brother's only chance."
"I know. It's her choice to make, I can deal with that," Sam replied more quietly, looking down. He wasn't really comfortable with letting Alex get involved but he would go along with anything if it meant getting his brother back safely.
"Well then what? Is it Ruby? You keep sayin' we can trust her. If you're not sure, now would be the time to admit it. If she bails or screws us over, we're all dead," the older hunter warned harshly.
"It's not that. I trust her," Sam replied. Again, he had his doubts on that front but was willing to risk it for Dean.
Bobby sighed and his eyes softened. He had known Sam since he had been a toddler and knew his inner-turmoil self-blame expressions almost as well as Dean did. He looked Sam straight in the eyes, holding his gaze. "What is it son?" he asked, dropping his usual gruff tone.
"I dunno, Bobby. I'm his brother, you know. I should be the one taking the risk to get him back, not you guys."
"Like I keep tryin' to tell you knuckleheads, family don't end with blood," Bobby told him. "There ain't nothin' I wouldn't do for yer brother. Or for you."
"I know that," Sam continued. "But I'm still his brother. I'm supposed to look out for him, have his back, save his ass, rescue him from demons or… from Hell."
"Is that what this is about?" Bobby scoffed. The older man never had much patience for self-pity. "'Cause you weren't the one to pull your brother's behind out of the pit?"
Sam shrugged. "I'm his brother," he repeated for the third time. "He was in there because of me. I let him down and Castiel came through for him."
"Don't make any difference how he got out, son. That was the easy part of saving your brother." Bobby stood right in front of the much taller hunter, arms folded across his chest and he straightened up to emphasize his next point. "Castiel may have pulled him out, but he tossed him up here in pieces and it's up to you to put him back together. You think I don't see how messed up he is? He's broke, damnit. And with all this shit goin' on with angels and demons and goddamn breakin' seals, you're the only thing that's holdin' him together. Don't underestimate what you can do for your brother. You save him every passin' day, Sam. But if you don't get it together and stop blaming yourself, he's gonna slip right past you."
Sam stared at the hunter for more than a few seconds, not saying anything. Under Bobby's very convincing gruff, unfriendly exterior was a sensitive and compassionate soul. Since the boys had been kids they had known this to be true but Sam hadn't realized just how much Bobby saw through their 'suck-it-up' Winchester facades. And how perceptive he was. Sam couldn't stop his pout from curling into a lopsided smile and he silently nodded his agreement to the plan, turning to head back into the motel room.
Sam thought back to Bobby's words now. 'But if you don't get it together and stop blaming yourself, he's gonna slip right past you.' Bobby had been right. Sam saw Dean struggling every day with the memories of what he had endured on the rack and the guilt of what he had done to get off. But what Dean needed wasn't just a shoulder to cry on. Some comforting words and a pat on the back weren't enough to fix him. Dean needed this to be over. He needed the threat of an impending apocalypse to be a memory. He needed to stop being jerked around by angels and demons alike. He needed some peace. He wasn't going to recover that piece of him that been left back in Hell and fill that hole he had described inside of him unless he could get a break from this madness.
Dean needed Sam to kill Lillith for him. That was the best way Sam could help his brother, of that Sam was certain. And Sam had plans for doing just that but Dean was just too fragile right now to know about them. He wouldn't be able to handle it. He wouldn't understand. His completely unreasonable reaction to what Sam had done at Brian's house was proof of that.
Because now here Dean stood on the porch, clamming up at even the mention of what had happened there, of what Sam had done... done for him.
"Look, just 'cause you're older doesn't mean I'm not supposed to look out for you as well, you know."
Dean was obviously regretting his pushing for a girly pow-wow. "I know you've got my back, Sam," he said on a tired exhale. "I may not know much about what goes on in that shaggy head of yours these days, but I know you'll always have my back." With that he turned and went back inside the cabin.
Sam wondered briefly how much Dean did know. He felt the distance between them widen silently by another measure. Surely there was no way Dean knew what he and Ruby did when Sam snuck out of the motel rooms in the middle of the night. Suspect a little, maybe. He hoped Dean just thought his shy little brother was sneaking out for a quick romp and was just too embarrassed and ashamed to admit it.
Whatever he thought, Dean wasn't calling him on anything. Almost as if he was too afraid to. Another thing that had changed since Cas had pulled his brother out of one fire and left him floundering in another.
SPN-SPN-SPN
Dusk had come and gone and it was now officially night. Dean came back inside, leaving his brother to chop wood and vent his anger or guilt or whatever the kid was doing by decimating the wood supply. He had left the lamp on the back deck to give Sam some light. Couldn't have him chopping off his trigger finger, after all. He may still need it yet with all that was still to come.
Feeling a bit gloomy after the brief exchange, he decided to find Alex. She usually managed to bring a smile to his face. She wasn't anywhere to be found in the small cabin though and he peered worriedly out the front door into the darkness. To his relief, he caught a glimpse of her blonde waves reflecting in the light from the cabin's window. She was sitting on the porch with her feet on the top step and her back to the cabin. She had her earbuds in as she usually did when alone and was staring out into the night, head swaying slightly to the beat of the unheard music from her iPod.
She didn't hear the hunter when he came up behind her and turned her head with a surprised jerk to face him as he sat down next to her. She looked away quickly, pulling the earphone out with the wire and wiping the back of her hand across her cheek.
Too late, Dean saw the tears. He felt a stab of pity and thought to himself that he shouldn't be that surprised. After all, she had only just found out that the world could be ending soon and she had probably seen more dead bodies in the last two days than in the rest of her entire life.
That's what you get for hanging out with us Winchesters.
"Hey," was all he said, settling in next to her on the top step.
"Hey," she replied quietly with a small, embarrassed laugh. "You caught me."
They sat in silence for a brief moment. "Rough couple of days, huh?" he smiled, elbows resting on his knees, whiskey flask in hand.
"Rough couple of weeks," she admitted, still looking down and absently twisting her finger in her hair. "I miss my brother," she sighed.
Dean raised his eyebrows slightly, having temporarily forgotten about Josh's predicament. "Is that what you're upset about? You're missing Beach Boy? I thought it would be the whole end-of-the-world thing."
She looked up and smiled. "Yeah, there's that too," she admitted. "But mostly I'm worried I might never see him again. You know, if things don't turn out so well. What if…? What if…?"
"Don't worry. You'll see him again`. I'm sure the angels still have a few tricks up their sleeve. The good guys will kick ass." He wished he could believe his own lie.
She let out a small, unconvincing chuckle before going silent for another moment. "You're probably wondering why I didn't turn myself in, huh?"
"Turn yourself in?" Dean wasn't following. "Why would I wonder that?"
"Uncle Bryce said he would get Josh probation if he turned me in. If it were you, you would have turned yourself in, wouldn't you?" she accused, keeping her eyes trained on the darkness of the surrounding woods rather than the man next to her.
"In your case, no," Dean answered quickly and honestly. Her demon was far more dangerous than a few thugs on Cell Block D. The option had never even occurred to him and he was certain it hadn't occurred to Josh.
Alex obviously didn't believe him and felt a need to further explain her reasoning. "Josh wouldn't have been able to live with himself if I had. I thought about it, but….I just couldn't do it," she finished. "But he doesn't deserve the shitty deal he was dealt."
"I know for a fact that your brother would gladly spend the rest of his life in jail if it meant keeping you safe," Dean assured her.
"For a fact, huh? No offense, Dean, but you hardly know him."
"Know him? Lex, if anyone knows what your brother's all about, it's me. I am him!"
Alex managed a laugh at that. "Yeah, you kinda are," she said thoughtfully, remembering Dean's reaction when Sam had been hurt on the hunt they shared last year. "Only with a little more Dirty Harry thrown in the mix. And maybe a little less Oprah."
"I'm not gonna lie," he told her. "The next six months is gonna suck. Truth is, I'm not big on being alone either. I went years hardly seeing Sam at all when he was in college and I hated every minute of it. But the way your brother will no doubt charm the pants off the parole board, I'd say it'll be four months, tops and you two can get back to rocking waves or riding a longboard or whatever it is you do."
"Thanks," she grinned at him, ignoring his completely botched surfing terminology.
Dean wasn't lying. The years Sam had been away at Stanford had been the worst in his life, with the possible exception of the two years since then. Not a day had gone by when he hadn't felt like something was wrong, like he should be somewhere else, looking out for his brother. He had worried all the time and, despite the fact that he managed to get himself laid more times in those four years than the rest of his life combined, had felt desperately lonely. Abandoned and alone.
But at least he'd had his father. John had never been affectionate or overly considerate of Dean's feelings, but he'd been family and had loved his son. Dean remembered the hurt and emotional pain he had suffered when John too had disappeared, abandoning him without so much as a good-bye. In his pathetic neediness, he had only been able to endure that painful emptiness for six days before it had driven him to show up at Sam's doorstep after almost four years, begging him to join him. Alex had nobody else to turn to. For her, Josh was it.
"Ya know something, you're actually pretty good at this," Alex remarked thoughtfully.
"At what?"
"The 'everything will be alright' speech. I'd say you're even better than Mr. Sensitive in there," she jerked her thumb towards the cabin, referring to the younger Winchester.
"Tell anybody and I'll kill you."
"There you go with the death threats again," she laughed. "I owe you an apology," she blurted, changing the subject abruptly.
"What for?" Strangely, he found her habit of topic jumping amusing and even endearing and didn't mind the extra effort sometimes required to keep up.
"For the cheap tactics I used in getting you to let me come along with you guys. It was a pretty low blow to guilt you into it. I'm sorry."
Dean snorted. "Lex, I don't do anything I don't want to. Trust me, if I hadn't wanted you to come along, you wouldn't be here. As it turns out, I owe you the apology. This turned out to more dangerous than I thought and now you're stuck hiding out in the woods from demons."
"Can I ask you a question? It's about Hell."
Oh crap. Here it was. Why did everyone always want to ask him what it was like in Hell?
"Uh, I, uh, really don't like to talk about it…" he stammered, not wanting to be rude but not wanting to discuss his time in the pit. A look of fear and near panic came over his face.
She looked at him with her brows furrowed for a second. "Oh, wait, you think I'm gonna ask about what it was like for you down there? Shit, no."
He still looked skeptical.
"I'm not big on talking about things either," she assured him. "Josh is always trying to get me to talk about things, and you know what? - that works for him. But not for everyone. If you don't want to talk about Hell, that's fine by me. I wouldn't understand anyway. In fact, about the only thing I do understand is that I couldn't possibly understand. I'm pretty sure the worst things I've ever experienced are like cookies and ice cream compared to Hell. Honestly, I don't want to know what it's like."
She winced at how callous that last part had sounded. Damn, this type of conversation was just not very high on the list of things she was good at. She just came off as extremely insensitive.
"Yeah, okay," Dean sighed back at her, obvious relief on his face. "It's just that Sam is always pushing for me to talk about it and…"
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I get ya there. They think if you spill all your fucked up feelings, they'll be able to fix you." She drained the last of her bottled water. "Josh. Sam. They're fixers. They see something broken and they want to fix it. But you know what? Everybody's a bit broken, including them. There's not a person on this planet, no matter how perfect their life seems, that doesn't feel sad or scared or guilty about something. Granted some more than others, but still..." She looked up at him. "In the immortal words of Jon Bon Jovi, 'it's okay to be a little broken'."
"Uh-oh," Dean grinned. "More from the Life Philosophies of Joshua Brenton?"
She gave him a playful shoulder bump. "No, you can have that one for the Dean Winchester Guide to Survival."
Dean smiled and took a sip from his flask of whiskey as he thought about her words. Part of it rang true; everybody had issues, everybody was a bit 'broken'. But surely not as screwed up and empty as he felt these days. There were some degrees of broken that maybe did need fixed. He wished there was some magical way to fix him; to help him get back in the game. Give him more will to fight. But right now, he was too scared to even face what he had gone through or done. He tried not to think about it because when he did, he was instantly overwhelmed with the guilt and pain.
"Hey, you gonna share or what?" Alex's voice snapped him out of his train of thought and he looked over to see her pointing to his flask.
"Yeah, sure. Guess I owe you that much." He grinned as he handed it over. "So what was your question about Hell then?"
"Oh, yeah," she scrunched up her face and stifled a cough as the strong liquor burned her throat. "That's right," she rasped. "I was wondering, if reciting an exorcism sends a demon to Hell, how come it has to be in Latin? Why can't you just say the same thing in English? Demons and angels both seem to be bilingual."
SPN-SPN-SPN
Sam was almost finished the entire pile of logs. The split wood was now piled waist high on the end of the deck. He heard a noise behind him as he took a final swing.
"Ooh, sweaty. Nice."
He didn't turn around. "What are you doing here, Ruby?"
Her reply betrayed a hint of annoyance at his lack of enthusiasm for her arrival. "I have news. Thought you might like to know what's going on."
Sam leaned the axe up against the porch railing and headed for the cabin door with only a quick glance at the demon. "Ever heard of a cell phone?" he snapped impolitely as he entered, not holding the door for her as she followed him in.
He tried to suppress a smile when he heard a grunt from behind him and turned to find her glaring angrily at the devil's trap overhead that had her trapped where she stood in the doorway. He felt a touch of spite and immaturity but couldn't help himself as he casually grabbed a towel and stood in the living room, wiping his sweaty face and neck and not making a move to help her.
"A little help?" she snapped.
He eventually gave in, reaching up and scraping a small slash in the outer ring of the painted trap with his knife. Ruby seemed to instantly forgive his less than friendly welcome and moved carefully into the small room, walking cautiously around the four other devil's traps she could see as well as the two rugs. It was safe to assume whatever hunter was responsible for the paranoid décor had thrown in a few hidden treasures also.
"Where are Dean and Goldilocks?" she frowned.
Sam looked around and caught sight of his brother and the blonde sitting on the front porch deep in conversation. It appeared neither had been aware of Ruby's arrival.
"How did you get here?" he asked curiously. Her stolen car was not out front with the Impala and the cabin was a couple of miles into the woods.
As usual Ruby ignored his questions on how she got around. She was looking out the front window at the pair chatting out front, arms folded over her chest. "Why don't they just do it and get it over with?" she scoffed.
Sam sank down on the couch. "Because my brother does everything ass backwards," he replied with a chuckle.
"He's never exactly been one to take it slow with the ladies," Ruby remarked, sauntering over towards Sam.
Sam rolled his eyes, dropping the cold shoulder he always gave the demon when she first showed up. "If you're asking me to make sense of anything that goes on in that head of his, don't even bother."
Ruby looked thoughtful. "This could work in our favour, you know."
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, sounding tired.
"It means things would go a lot smoother if you weren't tiptoeing around your brother. He's holding you back and you know it."
Sam glared at her. "I don't want to get into this again. I just got him back, I'm not leaving him. Not now. He was in Hell, Ruby."
"I'm not saying this is his fault," she defended hotly. "Hell's as bad as it gets. Trust me, I know. And your brother got the VIP treatment. But there's a war going on and you're the only one who has a chance of stopping Lillith but you're too afraid to do what needs done in case Dean gets his feelings hurt. I'm just saying maybe Goldilocks can distract him for a while; let you do your thing."
Sam shook his head in disapproval but inwardly admitted to himself that there could be some merit to what she was saying. Ruby ended the conversation by rapping on the window, waving the pair out front to come in.
Dean entered first, as usual not looking pleased to see the demon. She had helped save his life earlier today though so he refrained from throwing any derogatory remarks her way but he wasn't about to be welcoming. "What's up?"
"The demon that Lillith sent after you is in the area," she informed them bluntly.
"Armageddon?" Dean's head snapped to attention.
"It's Agramon," she snipped.
Dean ignored her snide tone. "Whatever. How close is he?"
"I don't know. All I know is that he was headed towards Reichert."
"Do you think he knows about this cabin?" Alex asked, alarmed.
Ruby just shrugged her shoulders.
Sam stood up, fists flexing with worry. "What do you know about him, Ruby?"
Another shrug. "Like I said before, he's a lone wolf. Got his own agenda. But he wants that medallion enough to volunteer to work with other demons."
"How powerful is he?" Sam pushed. "Can your knife kill him?"
"I don't know," the brunette admitted.
"Can I…" Sam hesitated with a guilty glance at his brother. "Can I pull him?"
"No, Sam!" Dean snapped. "We're not going there."
Ruby ignored Dean, answering Sam directly. "I don't think so. Not yet. From what I hear, he's almost as powerful as Alistair. No offense, Sam, but you couldn't do diddly squat to Alistair, remember?" The words were spoken as an accusation and Sam didn't miss the point. He hadn't been practicing enough; he was 'getting flabby'.
Dean almost looked relieved at the bad news. "Good. Then that's settled." He turned back to Ruby. "Should we leave here?"
Sam was taken aback. Was Dean really looking to Ruby for advice? He had been about to ask her the same thing but had not expected his brother to trust her recommendations for their safety. But then again, Ruby had saved Dean's life today and she had put herself in danger when Alistair and the angels were both coming for Anna, even allowing herself to be tortured as part of the ruse. Maybe Dean had finally started to see Ruby as an ally.
"I dunno," the demon replied. "Agramon is bad-ass. They call him the Demon of Fear, the Master of Terror and a lot of other equally foreboding nicknames. From what I hear, he can project fear into the minds of his human victims, turning them insane and literally scaring them to death."
"You mean kinda like a dementor?" Alex asked.
"What's a dementor?" Ruby gave her a blank look.
"It's from Harry Potter," Sam explained. "They suck any good feeling from a person's mind leaving nothing but despair."
"Kinda like that then. Only much scarier," Ruby answered.
"Dude," Dean elbow-nudged his brother, "you watched Harry Potter?"
Sam flushed. "Shut up. And no, I read it."
"Well, this demon, he enjoys his 'dementing'. You really don't want to go up against him," Ruby offered. "Demon-proof pad or not."
"So the question is do we think he can find us here or not?" Dean summarized.
Alex suddenly gasped and grabbed Sam's forearm. "Something's coming!" she warned sharply, looking wide-eyed towards the front door. "Something's outside!"
Dean dove for his bag of weapons. "Guess that answers that question."
"Do we have time to get to the car?" Sam directed the question at Alex who shook her head.
"I don't think so, they're close."
"How many?"
"I don't know," she shrugged, wincing in evident pain. "A few, I think. And one really bad one. Really bad."
Sam briskly rubbed charcoal from the woodstove over the scrape he had made to break the back door's Devil's trap then moved quickly to help Dean and Alex pour the salt across all the windows and doors. No sooner than they had lined the last sill when they heard footsteps on the front and back porches simultaneously.
"This is so not good," Dean griped, shotgun in one hand and .45 in the other, bracing himself in a defensive position facing the front door.
"Nope," Sam agreed, coming to stand with his back to his brother, his Ithica aimed steadily at the back door. Ruby picked up an iron poker from next to the woodstove.
"You got the medallion, Sam?" Dean asked. After all, that was the top priority.
"Yeah," Sam confirmed, tapping his jeans pocket to be sure.
"You got the knife?" There was a stern undertone to Dean's second question. He wanted to be sure his brother was given no excuse to use his demon powers.
"Yes," was Sam's curt reply.
Tense silence filled the cabin as well as the surrounding woods for what seemed like ages to the four occupants.
"What are they doing?" Alex whispered from her position by the bedroom doors. She too was holding a shotgun. The salt rounds didn't really do much damage to demons, they were more deadly to ghosts, but they did sting and could often slow them down a bit. Unless they got a demon in a devil's trap or found a way of dousing high volumes of holy water on them, the knife was the only real weapon they had against them. She could feel a painful, steady chill slicing back and forth through her brain, brought on by her extra sense's reaction to the proximity of the demons outside. "What are they waiting for?" she breathed.
Her question was answered when a flaming torch suddenly came crashing through the front window, followed seconds later by one through the back glass. Dean and Sam reacted quickly to throw them back out but it was obvious from the smell of gasoline, the splashing sounds, and the accumulating smoke that the outside walls of the cabin were being ignited.
"Shit! That's like the oldest trick in the book!" Alex panicked, looking to the Winchesters to see what they would think of to get them all out of this latest predicament. They always seemed to have a plan and she was hoping now wouldn't be any different.
"This is so not good!" Dean repeated, realizing it would be completely futile to attempt to battle the quickly catching flames.
"We need to make a run for the car!" Sam commanded, moving to the front door and peering out through the broken windowpane, drawing Ruby's knife.
Dean nodded his agreement and tilted his head at Alex and Ruby, silently ordering them to the front entrance ready to make their break. Sam caught his brother's eye and nodded, the Winchester equivalent of a full battle plan conference. Sam would go first, then Alex, then Ruby, then Dean. No need to wait, they should go now while the demons were still busy lighting the fire rather than wait for them to regroup and position themselves. Sam made a quick scrape through the door's overhead devil's trap to allow Ruby to get out with them.
"Go!" Dean whispered and Sam threw open the front door, running towards the Impala parked at the end of the road about a hundred feet away. The others were close on his heels.
The first demon came at Sam at the bottom of the stairs, tossing aside the can of gasoline it had in its hands to lunge. Sam made quick work of it with the knife, planting it firmly in the possessed man's heart. They could see another charging towards them, coming around the cabin, but were able to all get to the car before it reached them. They all piled in except Sam, who stood his ground in front of the car and lunged at the demon when it got close, giving Dean time to get the keys in the ignition and turn. This time the knife found a soft spot on the man's neck and a spray of blood spurted across Sam's chest when he withdrew it from the gaping hole that was now glinting with swirling lights. The younger Winchester slid quickly into the passenger seat, wondering suddenly why the engine wasn't running yet.
"What the Hell?" Dean cursed loudly as he turned the key for the fourth time, still getting nothing. Two more demons were advancing from the direction of the cabin, satisfied smirks on both of their faces.
"They've messed with the car!" Alex yelled, reaching to open her door again. "We need to get out!"
Dean slammed his fist against the steering wheel in fury before following suit. Alex was right. There was no way the engine wasn't turning by accident; he took very good care of his baby and had even given it a once-over at the last pit stop on the way over here just to be sure she hadn't been abused during her overnight stay at the gas station in Loela.
He and Sam got out of the car simultaneously, doors squeaking open and closed in unison but the front two demons were already upon them. Sam lunged for the closest of the demons with the knife, but this one was faster than his dead associates and managed to avoid the swing. The second demon went straight for Dean, shaking off the hunter's well placed punch to the face and grabbing him by the throat, slamming him against the Impala's door. Dean managed a glance over at Ruby and Alex.
"Get her out of here!" he ordered Ruby, voice raspy from the hand squeezing his vocal chords. "Run!"
Ruby hesitated and looked pissed, but did as Dean ordered and grabbed Alex by the wrist, dragging her away towards the surrounding woods. Dean kicked out at the demon that had him by the neck to no avail. Another hard slam against the Impala almost had him seeing stars, or so he thought until he realized it was actually the now-familiar sparks of death dancing behind the eyes of the demon that was slowly releasing its hold on his neck. Dean coughed and as the demon dropped to the ground he saw Sam standing behind it, Ruby's knife still in stab position.
"Thanks," he croaked quickly to his brother before glancing around for any remaining demons. There were now two lying on the ground in front of the car, obviously taken out by Sam and the knife. Another large guy in overalls was charging them with a couple more fifty feet behind him.
"Oh crap, Sam," Dean complained, sounding more fed up than scared. "Get that knife ready."
"Three at once?" Sam said incredulously, his voice rising slightly in pitch. "Screw this, Dean," he said, shoving the hilt of the knife into his brother's hand and taking a step in front of him. He raised his arm out in front of him and creased his brow in concentration.
"Oh no you don't. Sam! No!" Dean ordered, but his brother ignored him and within seconds the closest demon stopped abruptly. His eyes shot wide in shock and black smoke began to swirl out of his mouth in jagged spurts.
The smoke was still seeping into the grass when Sam swung his arm to take on the next two demons. His head was pounding and he was feeling slightly drained already with only one down and two to go. If he could pull Samhain, surely he could take three of Lillith's low-level lackeys, if they were indeed the lackeys, of course. They had no idea what Agramon's chosen 'meat-suit' would look like and it seemed suspiciously fortunate that the Demon of Fear hadn't shown himself yet.
He hated that Dean was standing next to him. Without even looking at him, Sam could see the look of horror and disgust on his brother's face. He made a grabbing motion with his right hand and twisted, sending the second demon to its knees and evoking an agonizing scream from the third.
SPN-SPN-SPN
Ruby and Alex reached the edge of the clearing before Ruby turned to look back at the car. Alex stalled also, following the other woman's gaze to see two demons dead on the floor and three more still racing towards the brothers. Ruby gave her an accusing glare but moved to keep on running. Alex stopped her.
"You go back, I'll be fine," she said.
"Yeah, but I won't be if I let your ass get killed," the demon snapped back.
"They won't be able to be mad at you," Alex argued desperately, "'cause they'll be dead! I'll keep running, I promise." She had figured out years earlier on the first few hunts she had worked with her brother that Josh was far more likely to get hurt if he was distracted by trying to keep her safe, so when she was ordered to leave in the heat of battle, she usually did. She kept her cool and could handle herself in a fight but she lacked the skills or strength to do much damage against the stronger, faster variety of supernatural evil-doers they had often encountered. Without the right weapons, she would be relatively useless against a pack of demons. But Ruby had mad skills... and the Winchesters looked like they were in trouble.
Ruby hesitated for a second and appeared as if she was ready to concede when Alex suddenly gasped and covered her mouth with her hand as she stared past the brunette towards the fight by the car. Sam was now standing a step in front of Dean with his arm outstretched towards the demons and black smoke was billowing out of their mouths and eyes.
The throbbing in her head from the proximity of the demons was near excruciating but suddenly it got even worse... was that from Sam?... then it got almost unbearable. She heard a rustle of leaves, spun to the left, and was startled by a man standing not ten feet from them, eyeing them calmly with the flames of the burning cabin glowing brightly behind him. Ruby must have noticed the newcomer also, because she spun and lunged swiftly at him with the fire poker. She never got to complete her swing though and an almost casual backhand from the demon sent her flying into the trunk of a nearby tree.
The demon was a good-looking black guy in his mid-thirties. Or more accurately, the demon was possessing the body of the unfortunate handsome man. He stood still, his head tilted slightly sideways as he stared intently at Alex. When he spoke, his voice was eerily calm.
"What do we have here?" The question was rhetorical. "You're different."
Alex backed up a few steps, not sure what her best move was. If she could distract him, or get him to move forward a few steps, maybe Ruby could surprise him from behind. She could see the female demon stiffly rising to her feet from the base of the tree trunk.
That plan was shot when he turned without warning to face Ruby. "You were trying to keep this one for yourself?" he asked. Again, rhetorical, because he didn't wait for an answer. "I don't think it'll be of any use to your boss." Again he looked back at Alex, who didn't like the notion of being referred to as an 'it'.
"Lillith isn't my boss," Ruby sneered, squaring her small shoulders to face the powerful demon.
"Then we have that much in common," he replied with an almost friendly smile. "So what do you say in the interest of harmony among our kind you let me have this one and take your leave?"
Alex was fairly certain Ruby could see what she could see. Two Winchesters, advancing quickly and quietly across the clearing towards them, coming up behind the demon and as of yet, seemingly unnoticed by him. For that reason, she was almost certain that Ruby's next words were simply an attempt to stall Agramon. She had no doubts this was Agramon himself standing before them; the painful throbbing and sense of evil in her head was one of the most powerful she'd ever experienced, equal to Red-Eyes.
"Hmmmm." Ruby appeared to think for a moment, arms folded across her chest. "What's in it for me?"
Agramon laughed at that. It was a casual, almost pleasant laugh. "You get to live to see another day, that's what." He was about to say something else when his voice hitched and his eyes widened, chest thrusting forward from a blow from behind.
Dean stood behind him, both hands on the handle of Ruby's knife which was buried up to the hilt in Agramon's back. Alex could see the immediate shock pass quickly from the demon's face, replaced by anger as his eyes narrowed, turning a freaky, unnatural orange-gold colour for a brief second. His shoulders stiffened and he straightened up slowly, drawing a deep, angry breath into his lungs as he did so. Dean yanked the knife out and plunged it in again, slightly to the left.
This time the 'Master of Terror' didn't even flinch. There were no dancing lights or flashes of illumination under his skin. He turned to face the elder Winchester and with just a twitch of his chin, sent Dean hurdling through the air at least thirty feet. As was usually the case for the unfortunate hunter, the demon managed to land him against something painfully solid. This time it happened to be a large, deciduous tree trunk.
Sam immediately threw out his arm towards the demon, ignoring his already dizzy state and the trickle of blood dripping from his nose from the three pulls he had just finished. He barely caught sight of a satisfied smirk that came across Ruby's face and later thought he may have imagined it. Either way, the smirk was gone seconds later when it became apparent to all that he was no match for this high-level demon.
SPN-SPN-SPN
Thanks for the reviews and faves and alerts on this story and the first in the series.
Cecile(guest) – Thanks for the comment, that is awesome. Hope you enjoy the rest!
