From the Shadows
Chapter Nine: Safe
I wasn't planning on updating so soon, but whatever. Spoilers for season five and a factoid from season six awaits. I hope you've enjoyed this story, the next one should be starting up in a few days, internets willing, of course.
It was after nightfall when the Impala crossed the state border into Virginia. Sam was sleeping in the passenger seat, and for the first time, he was sleeping peacefully without the strain of any nightmares. Dean had the radio going with the volume low so as not to wake Sam up. When he had walked into that convent, the last thing Dean had expected was a vision and a full-on catharsis from Sam, but he knew it was long overdue, so he had listened to every word.
It had been painful to hear everything Sam had gone through, and honestly, Dean wasn't certain he'd be able to go through that again. But, Sam had needed to let go, and Dean had been trying to prepare himself for that to happen at some point. He hated the guilt Sam carried, didn't blame him at all for the Deal John had made; he understood that sometimes, you couldn't change the future, no matter how hard you tried. Dean couldn't deny that he wished that John had been able to save them without making that Deal, that he could still be with them, guiding them, telling them what he knew.
The secret John had left on Dean's shoulders suddenly felt even heavier. If Sam knew about it, he would feel condemned to a fate he didn't want, Dean was sure of it. He strengthened his resolve to never tell Sam what John had told him. Sam didn't need saving, and even if he did, Dean had no intentions of going anywhere. They would see things through together, come what may.
He felt some amount of grief over the fact that Scott, Gerald and Thomas were all dead, but Sam was still next to him, was still breathing, rebuilding, and still trusting his older brother with his life. Dean didn't know if he was worthy of that trust, but he was determined to hold onto it with everything he had for as long as possible. It was just all about he had left.
Dean wondered what was going to happen in that chapel, why Azazel had gone there of all places. What was there that was so important to a demon? For the first time, Dean finally understood that Azazel's plans were much bigger than anything they could have expected. He still didn't know where things were going, but Sam's vision suggested that the chapel might be a large part of the future, maybe even the culminating point. For the first time, Dean had doubts that he could last that long, could be strong enough for the both of them, but Dean had been looking out for Sam for so long that he wasn't sure he really had a choice in the matter, anymore.
I just need to keep us alive and together, he told himself as he sped down the silent road, and maybe the rest will work out on its own.
He wasn't so sure he believed that, but he didn't have much choice in the matter. Glancing once more at Sam, Dean pressed his foot down harder in search of the nearest motel. They both needed the rest, maybe even a break from it all.
Even as he thought it, Dean knew that was likely to never happen.
Jo stepped into the Roadhouse, bag slung over one shoulder as she steeled herself to see her mother again. Ellen was cleaning glasses behind the bar, but she looked up the moment the door opened.
"Hey, Mom," Jo whispered.
The glass in Ellen's hand slipped free and shattered to the floor. Moments later, Ellen had crossed around the bar and Jo's bag dropped to the floor as the older woman grabbed up her daughter in a tight hug.
"You're all right," she whispered. "Thank God you're OK."
"Yeah," Jo said softly. "Sam and Dean helped with that."
Eleen choked out a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob and she clutched Jo to her even more tightly. "Good," she said, voice rough with suppressed emotions. "I missed you so much, hon."
Jo's eyes were stinging with unshed tears. "I missed you, too," she replied before burying her face in her mother's shoulder. "I'm sorry for what I said before."
"I know," Ellen said. "So am I. So am I."
Ava had never liked funerals, but there was no way she could avoid attending this one. Why hadn't she had a vision, some way to warn Scott of what was coming? Why hadn't Sam? Squeezing her eyes shut, Ava leaned against Brady as they listened to the local priest in Lafayette give his eulogy.
After a moment, she looked out across the cemetery and was unsurprised to see Sam and Dean approaching, wearing simple black suits and looking sad, maybe even a little resigned. "There they are," she breathed to Brady.
"Who? Sam and Dean?" Ava nodded and carefully lifted a hand, indicating her presence to the brother and gesturing to the two empty seats beside her. Sam sat next to her with Dean on his other side.
"Hey," Sam said softly, looking just as pale as he'd been the last time she'd seen him. Ava wondered if he was getting any better.
"Hey," she whispered back. "How are you?"
"Fine," Sam replied, and Ava couldn't help but reach out to squeeze his knee, knowing he was probably wishing he could have saved Scott somehow.
Scott's father had survived the attack the week before, but was confined to a wheelchair in the front row of chairs. Ava couldn't help but feel sorrow for the man. He'd lost his wife years ago in a fire just like Sam's mother, and now his only son was gone, too. She remembered a line from one of those Lord of the Rings movies: "Parents should never have to bury their own children."
For the first time since hearing about Scott's death, Ava felt real dread for the future. How were they supposed to be soldiers in a demon army if they could be killed off so easily? What if that wasn't really the plan?
Ava had no answers, and neither did Sam; well, no answers that could help them to understand everything. Something dark lay in their future, something that Ava was beginning to think might change them in ways they couldn't predict, not even Sam, despite everything he'd been through so far.
There was silence as Scott's coffin was slowly lowered into the ground. She couldn't see Mr. Carey's face, but she somehow knew the man's grief must be beyond tears, now. She sniffed and discretely wiped at her eyes with one hand while clutching Brady's hand with the other. None of this was fair.
When people began moving up towards Scott's father to offer their condolences, Ava couldn't bring herself to step forward. Unsurprisingly, it seemed that Sam and Dean felt the same, so, she led them all away from Scott's grave and over to the small parking lot.
"It's good to see you both again," she said, standing beside the Impala.
"Yeah," Dean said with a sad smile. "You, too."
"Are you sure that Ava's safe?" Brady asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and nudging her closer to his side.
Sam looked weary and downtrodden, but he somehow managed a smile. "Honestly?" he said. "None of us are completely safe. I truly don't believe that any Hunters will come after you, and the demons are under orders not to harm us. I know it isn't much," he added, looking Brady in the eyes, "but for now, it's the best any of us has got."
Ava looked up at Brady and watched him nod slowly. "Anything you find out about why you guys are like this or what this demon's plans are supposed to be," he said, "you'll tell us?"
Sam nodded, and there was a moment of silence.
"We need to get going," Ava finally said, "got to drive back home and everything."
Sam and Dean nodded, shaking hands with Brady and allowing Ava to hug them before she and her fiancé headed away to the other side of the parking lot.
Ava stood beside the passenger door, waiting for Brady to get in the car and unlock it, when there was movement just out of the corner of her eye. She turned and froze.
Standing far enough away that Ava only just recognized her, stood Tara. She was grinning, shoving one hand in her jeans' pocket and raising the other one to wave. Ava blinked and Tara was gone.
"Ava?" called Brady from inside the car. "C'mon, we need to get going!"
"Yeah," Ava said softly as she turned back to the car. "Everything needs to get going." It wasn't comforting to think about.
Azazel didn't look happy. "You should've found out what he knew while you had him here," he said.
Derrick blinked and he noticed Buck's jaw drop open. "I'm sorry?" he said.
Azazel rolled his eyes and leaned against Derrick's desk. "There may have been things that Lehne remembered," he told Derrick, "thing's no one's supposed to know. If Sam has learned things that he shouldn't have…" He trailed off and Derrick wondered if that meant Sam wasn't such a favorite anymore.
"Oh, well," Azazel sighed suddenly. "I doubt it'll change things in the long run, anyway." He turned to leave.
"So, we're not in trouble?" Buck asked from the corner of the room.
"Well, not Derrick," Azazel said, pausing by the door. "He only acted in accordance with my wishes, but you…" He shook his head and raised a hand.
Buck screamed, dropping to the floor as he writhed in pain. Derrick winced and looked away.
"I'm going to have your bones found and burned," Azazel said calmly. "I believe they're over in Ireland, yes?"
"Please don't!" Buck gasped out.
"My special children are not to be touched by demon hands," Azazel told Buck, voice suddenly very cold. "You disobeyed me. That will never happen again."
He left, and a few minutes later Buck burned to death, meatsuit and all.
Hey, I know it's been awhile since we last talked, but I got an email from Sam the other day. He was asking about you.
Why didn't you tell Sam that you changed your email and phone number? I mean, you two were really close at school, even through your breakdown and everything. What happened? You kept up with me pretty well, so why not him?
Anyway, Sam was wanting to know what you've been up to, and honestly, so would I. Are you still at Stanford? Did you transfer somewhere else? I know you're not dead, so what gives? I haven't seen you since I started attending school again, so I can only assume you're somewhere else. Are you still going for that medical degree? You told me once you were interested in pharmaceuticals, so did you find a college better suited to your needs?
Please email me back. It's been a while since I last heard anything, and I'm worried about you.
Rebecca Warren
With a drawn-out sigh, the blonde man at the computer pushed away from his desk, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. He'd kept up with Becky because that was the sort of thing he was supposed to do, but losing contact with Sam wasn't as hard as he'd thought it might be. Then again, killing Jessica had changed Sam and put him back out on the road where he was supposed to be, so he wasn't so surprised that things had worked out like that.
What did bother him was the sudden renewed interest. He was out of Sam's life for good, wasn't he? Had something happened he was unaware of?
Snagging his cell phone from his bed, he flipped it open and scrolled through his contacts, hitting the talk button when he found who he was looking for.
"This is Rachel Nave."
"It's me."
Rachel drew in a sharp breath of air. "Why are you calling me? Azazel said we're not supposed to contact each other outside of —"
"Extenuating circumstances?" he cut her off. "Yeah, well I think this might count." He paused before asking. "Have you been in contact with Sam recently?"
There was a moment of silence. "Sam Winchester?"
"Who else would I be talking about?"
Rachel sighed. "Yeah, back in June. Why?"
The man closed his eyes and flopped backwards onto his bed. "Does he know?"
"Know what?"
"About us, Rachel."
"Oh." There was another moment of silence. "Yeah. Azazel asked me to talk to him when he was under observation."
"Under —?" The man broke off and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "What's been going on?"
Rachel heaved a sigh. "You have to understand that I only do as I'm told —" she started.
"Rachel."
Rachel didn't say anything for a moment. "Azazel took Sam from his dad and brother, fed him demon blood and made him learn how to use the powers that come from using it."
Well. That was something, wasn't it?
"When did he decide to test it out?" he asked. "I thought the plan was to wait until after the Gates had been opened and the First Seal broken."
"I think it may have been a spur of the moment kinda thing," Rachel answered. "Still, he managed to get John Winchester to sell his soul and now he's in Hell."
"Does he really think that John'll do it?" the man asked.
"What? Break the First Seal?" Rachel sighed. "I met John the night Sam and I went to Prom together, and he seemed far too stubborn a man to break anytime soon, if ever."
Nodding, the man slowly sat up again. "So, Sam knows about all of us, then?"
"Not exactly," Rachel said slowly. "I mean, I revealed myself, obviously, but all I said was that there were others out, others like me. If Sam suspects you, it's only because you somehow gave him reason to do so when you took over that meatsuit of yours." Suddenly, there was the sound of a crash over the line. "Dammit," Rachel sighed, "that'll be Brittney's little boys going at it, again."
"Brittney?"
"My — Rachel's older sister," Rachel answered. "Said I'd babysit, but those two boys are almost as bad as newborn demons coming back to Earth to wreak havoc."
The man couldn't help but snort. "I should let you get back to them, then. We don't need to have a demon around who can't keep an eye on small boys, do we?"
Rachel huffed out a laugh. "No, I don't think so," she replied genially. "You take care of yourself, OK? I know you've got some pretty high goals to work towards."
"Yeah," the man sighed. "Hopefully the test in November will be successful."
"You're actually gonna test it?" Rachel sounded excited. "Who's your test subject?"
"Who else?" the man said with a small grin.
"Sam. Of course," Rachel said with a short bout of laughter. "You gonna oversee it yourself?"
"Can Sam sense demons?"
"Yeah, last I heard."
"Then no," the man said, running a hand through his hair as he glanced over at his desk, "I'll send in one of my guys, have them hide inside one of the locals once we find the best test sight."
"Cool. Lemme know how it goes?"
"Yeah, I will."
"Awesome." There was another crashing sound and Rachel heaved out another sigh. "I'd better go. Take care, Brady."
Brady Miller ended the call and flipped his phone shut. Jiggling it in one hand, he stood and returned to his computer, spending a few minutes in silence as he tried to think of an appropriate response.
Becky —
I guess Sam and I just lost track of each other. That kind of thing happens, you know it does. Sam was just different after Jess died. Anyway, to answer your questions, I didn't transfer anywhere. I actually decided to take a year off from school, make sure I've really got my head on straight after everything. Sam helped a lot, I'm not saying he didn't, but after he left school it started to get hard again, so I headed back home to people I could trust for help. You can give Sam my email and phone number if you want, I'd be more than happy to catch up with him. I assume he's still with his brother, so give them both my best, OK?
Brady Miller
That sounded good enough, so with a click, Brady sent the email on its way. Hopefully Sam wouldn't want to meet up, because then his cover would be blown and he needed this body.
Clicking out of his browser, Brady pulled up his latest homework assignment for his Chemistry class at Harvard. Once he passed this class, he'd be one step closer to being in the right place once the final Seal was broken. Azazel was counting on him to do this right.
"We've gotta find the others."
Dean looked up from his burger at Sam, who was sitting on his bed in their current motel room, hands loosely clasped in front of him and his elbows perched on his knees. He looked sad and beyond exhausted, but there was also a hint of determination in his eyes.
"The other special children," Dean clarified, leaning back in his chair and staring at Sam, who nodded his answer. "We will."
"We need to do it as soon as possible," Sam told him.
"I know," Dean replied, setting his burger down with regret and turning to face Sam completely. "This ain't gonna be easy," he said, carefully watching Sam's face, "you know that, right?"
Sam nodded again. "I can't let anyone else die," he said. "I should've been there when Scott —"
"Dude, you couldn't have been there," Dean cut him off. "You had no way of knowing, no visions —"
"Probably because of the drugs Buck gave me," Sam interjected and Dean nodded.
"Exactly. Neither of us can be all the places we wanna be. It sucks, I know, but like it or not, people are gonna die. All we can do is try to reduce the number as much as humanly possible." He sighed and scrubbed at his face. "It's late, Sammy, and you look like Angela the zombie."
Sam snorted. "I'm probably only gonna have more nightmares."
"Those will go away with time," Dean said confidently. "All you've ever needed to do was open up in that girly way of yours."
The pillow that came his way narrowly missed his food and Dean grinned. "You're lucky my food's intact. Now get some sleep, Sammy, you really need it."
Sam nodded. "Thanks, Dean."
Dean smiled, cleared his throat and returned to his food, tossing the pillow Sam had thrown at him back in Sam's direction. They still had a lot of things to fix, but Dean felt like Sam was finally on the road to recovery. There was something big coming that they couldn't even begin to try and predict, but Dean was going to do everything he could to meet things head-on and protect Sam from it. All he had to do was keep them alive and together, no matter what. And he'd do it, whatever it took.
When Sam fell asleep that night, Dean sat by the window and kept watch. And when Sam woke from nightmares, Dean was there to calm him down, just like always. I just need to keep us alive and together, he reassured himself, just like Dad wanted.
END
