Previously: Sam and Dean killed the hounds after Laney and Dean made her promise she wouldn't do anything without checking with Bobby first. Dean then went back to Lisa and Ben, feeling like he wasn't ready to get back into hunting and the hard emotional toll that life has taken on him so far. Meanwhile, Cas discovered Sam has no soul and revealed this to Bobby and Laney who, despite Sam's objections, are now looking for a way to get both Sam's and Adam's souls back. They decided to leave Dean out of it and not tell him until they had found a definite way to do this.
~x~x~x~x~x~
CHAPTER 10
One week later...
It was seven days after Cas discovered Sam Winchester had no soul that he found the smarmy demon who was supposed to have put it back in. Well, it was actually the other way around and Crowley did the finding, popping up on the grass next to Cas to see if the angel had reconsidered his offer yet. Cas's hand was immediately wrapped around the demon's neck pinning him into a nearby tree.
"You lied," he said menacingly, getting right up in Crowley's face.
"Hey, easy on the Armani, Rambo," his English accent squeaked past the fingers on his throat. "What are you talking about?"
"Sam Winchester's soul is still in the pit."
Cas didn't miss the flicker of fear that crossed the demon's face before a sheepish grin appeared. "Oh," he said simply. "You noticed that, did you? I can explain."
"Or you can just die."
Crowley actually rolled his eyes. "If you'd wanted me dead I'd be a smoted pile of ash already," he pointed out. "Let go of my throat and let's discuss this like civilized gents, shall we?"
Cas glared but released the demon. He was fairly certain he could kill Crowley with a swish of his hand and the strangling had, in fact, just been for effect. Well, that and it felt good.
Crowley took a second to straighten his coat and his shirt before taking a step back. "I did try and get Winchester out," he defended. "But it would seem the cage is as demon-proof as it is angel-proof."
"So there is no way to get Sam's soul out without restarting the Apocalypse and re-breaking sixty-six more seals?"
"Now, I didn't say that," Crowley said quickly. "I am still working on one angle."
"Are you saying you were still planning on returning Sam's soul to his body and hoping I didn't mind that you lied the first time around?"
"No, actually I was hoping you wouldn't notice the damn thing was missing in the first place but since you did..."
"How do I get it out?"
Crowley let out a dramatic sigh. "Well that's what I'm still working on. Turns out there's a back door to the cage."
"Well use it," Cas raised his voice in impatience. "You've got a week or I will destroy you."
"Wait a minute, Quick Draw, wait just a minute." The demon gave him a condescending look that just annoyed Cas further. "This back door isn't really accessible to me and my kind."
Cas narrowed his eyes at him. "You expect me to walk into Hell with you? How gullible do you think I am?"
Crowley snorted and shook his head. "Well aren't you full of yourself? You can't open it either, I'm afraid. Besides, I may be King of Hell but if any angel other than the Morning Star himself showed his face down there in these turbulent times..." He drew his finger in a line across his throat to indicate what would happen to Cas. "Not even I could save you, mate." He folded his arms across his chest and smirked. "And I've still got a vested interest in you."
"I will not join you to search for Purgatory."
"Ah, but I believe you will, Cas Ol' Boy. Word is your generals are getting nervous. More and more of your troops are crossing the lines and heading back to Raphael's camp. You need me. I'm your only hope, Obi-Wan."
"You're useless to me," Cas fired back, having no idea what an Obi-Wan was and therefore deciding to just ignore the moniker. "You can't even retrieve a single soul from your own back yard." The angel gave a dismissive wave of his hand and made to leave.
"But what if I could?" Crowley taunted. "What if I could get Winchester's soul back into his oversized meatsuit?"
Cas gritted his teeth but stayed where he was. The demon certainly was a persistent bastard.
~x~x~x~x~x~
Dean had been back at Lisa's for a week and as hard as he was trying to fall back into the pattern they had established, he knew things were different. He kept apologizing for putting them in danger and Lisa kept insisting it was alright and that it was in the past but things had changed between them. Something had changed in Dean and he had grown restless.
He wandered into the garage and pulled the cover off the Impala, running his hand fondly along the smooth line of his baby's rear side panel. He had done this a hundred times in the last six months and had always covered her up again quickly, swallowing against the lump that would form in his throat at her familiar curves and her faded-leather-and-engine-oil smell. This time he hopped up onto her hood, sitting with his back against her windshield with a beer in his hand as he had a thousand starry nights with Sam over the years.
Things were different now. A week ago he had nowhere else to go, nothing else to live for. A week ago he would have thought his life here with the Braedens would be just fine if it weren't for the one single detail of being forced to live with the knowledge that Sam was in hell. Well Sam wasn't in hell anymore. Furthermore, Sam didn't need him anymore. The kid had made that abundantly clear by not coming to get him when he first got out.
But even though that detail had been taken out of the equation, his life wasn't just fine. Adam was still his brother and he was still in the cage, the only human now trapped between the world's two biggest dicks. Sam was out but ... he'd changed. Then there was Laney. Seeing her again had stirred up old feelings and memories like they were yesterday. His feelings of want and need and obligation were pulling him in all different directions and he couldn't seem to clear his head. He cracked open the beer and wished he had a neutral ear to talk to. He needed a friend. He needed Cas.
"Cas?" he called out loud for the first time since Sam had taken that swan dive. "Cas? Buddy? You around?" No answer. "Now I lay me down to drink, I pray to Cas my…uh, kitchen sink."
"Dean."
Just like old times, the angel appeared standing way too close to where Dean was sitting on the hood. Dean couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from turning upwards as he shifted himself subtly away from the edge, freeing up his personal space once more.
"Your praying skills have not improved," Cas said with a fond smile.
"Hey, Cas," Dean greeted his friend warmly. "I uh, I just wanted to talk; sorry to bother you. If you're busy…"
"No, I don't mind at all." In fact, Cas had been inwardly hoping for a prayer from Dean for six months and had yet to receive one. He missed his friend dearly. "What did you want to talk about?"
Dean winced slightly at being put on the spot. He took another sip of his beer and stalled. "How've you been? You didn't really stay to chat last time."
"I had urgent business to take care of and didn't want the other angels to know I was bringing Melanie Pearce here."
"Laney," Dean corrected absently. "She doesn't really like being called Melanie."
"Very well. I will admit, I am surprised you came back here," Cas commented, letting his eyes wander around the garage.
"Why's that?"
"I thought you would want to be with Laney."
Dean's eyes widened at the bluntness of the comment. "I have other obligations," he said a touch defensively, knowing also that any further explanation would likely fly right by the angel and he wouldn't be able to make him understand.
Cas tilted his head and gave him a curious look. "But are you not in love with Laney?"
"Get out of my head, Cas!" Dean hissed, squirming in discomfort. "And what would you know about love anyway?"
Cas shrugged his shoulders under the tan trench coat but took no offense at Dean's remark. "It is one of mankind's most curious and baffling mysteries," he said gravely, turning towards his former charge and fixing him with that unnerving look that made Dean feel like the angel was seeing things deep inside him, things he'd rather not let anybody see, even Cas.
"Ahh," Cas said with a nod of understanding. "Much like you did not think you deserved to be saved from hell, you do not think you deserve to be truly happy."
"I said stay out of my head."
"I don't need to go 'in your head' to know you lay unwarranted blame upon yourself for things completely out of your control."
Dean ignored the accusation, not sure which round of self-blame the angel had picked up on. "It's not about me," he said quietly. "When I first met Laney, I was only a kid but…I felt like I was supposed to save her. I can't explain why, call it fate or destiny or whatever but … but I didn't do that. I didn't help her at all. I never do. In fact, every time I show up in her life, something goes really wrong for her, like really wrong. I'm like a freaking super-powered bad luck magnet. She's better off without me around, trust me, Cas."
He surprised himself at the admission and found himself wondering if this was the real reason he had come back to Indiana. Had he come back to Lisa or just to get away from Laney? To deny himself what he figured he didn't deserve? Was Laney the piece of him that was still missing, the piece he had assumed was Sam?
"Did it ever occur to you that these terrible things you speak of would have happened to her anyway?" Cas questioned him, his voice deep and husky and every bit as comforting as Dean always remembered it. "That they are out of your control and most definitely not your fault? And that fate," he stressed the word, "if that's what you want to call it, just steps in to make sure you are there to help her through these times?" His blue eyes held Dean's gaze, driving his point home. "To make sure she is not alone when she needs you the most?"
Dean remained silent, unsure of what to say. Never in a million years would he have thought of it that way but Cas made it seem so plausible.
"I admit," Cas continued, "I do not fully understand the complexity of human love, but I don't see how two people can be better off denying themselves such a gift." The angel remembered Dean's disgust at finding out John and Mary Winchester had been marked and decided against revealing the existence of such sigils on both he and Laney Pearce. He didn't understand the hunter's indignation towards the Cupid's work. The feelings didn't happen because the mark was there; the mark was placed there because the love was there - or would be if the two souls were ever given the chance. The mark was simply the angels' way of ensuring petty human obstacles and circumstances did not stand in the way of a fated match. Most humans did not fight the attraction as strongly as Dean and Laney appeared to have done; most humans wanted what was being offered.
Dean was about to reply when the garage door swung open and Lisa appeared, looking startled to see Cas there.
"Oh," she said quickly, giving Dean a wary look. "I thought I heard voices; I thought you must have been talking to Ben."
Dean cleared his throat and swung his legs off the side of the hood. "Lis, you remember Cas?"
"Of course," she smiled a little stiffly at the angel. "You're not bringing any more demon-dog fugitives into my house, are you?"
"No," Cas said politely. "I was merely talking with a friend." He gave Dean a solemn nod. "Maybe someday you can help me in kind when I am in need of some advice." The angel valued Dean's friendship and insight more than any other and was strongly tempted to ask the man he trusted what to do about Crowley and his offer of souls, Purgatory, and Cas's only chance to defeat Raphael. He refrained, however, deciding instead to respect that Dean had chosen to once again remove himself from the fight, that he had chosen peace over freedom.
Dean gave him a questioning look as he slipped off the Impala's hood. "Of course, Cas," he said sincerely. "Anytime."
In a blink Cas was gone, leaving Dean standing in the garage alone with Lisa. His girlfriend's gaze drifted towards the uncovered Impala and he didn't miss the slight tightening of her lips.
"I was just checking her fluids," Dean said quickly, reaching for the edge of the tarp to pull it back over the classic beauty.
"Dean, you don't have to explain," she said, reaching out to stop his hand from re-covering his hunting car. She let out a tired sigh and took a step backwards. "But we need to talk."
"Uh-oh," Dean tried to joke despite the ominous sound of her words.
"I think you should move out."
"What?" Dean's heart hammered in his chest. "But…"
"This isn't working anymore," she said bluntly. "You need to go. You don't want to be here."
"I do," Dean insisted automatically, not realizing until he actually spoke the words that they weren't the truth.
"I knew this was going to happen eventually," she continued. "Even if Sam hadn't come back, it was going to happen. And I knew the second I came downstairs and saw an angel holding an unconscious girl in my living room that that time had come." There was no malice or anger in her voice, just resignation. "And let's face it, you haven't been here a hundred percent since you came back from Bobby's." She nodded her head towards the uncovered Impala. "Your old life is calling you back, Dean."
Dean exhaled slowly, not sure if it was hurt or relief he was feeling upon hearing her words or something else entirely. He knew what she was saying was the truth. "I just have to help them. I have to try," he said finally. "If Sam got out, then Adam…"
"I understand that, Dean. You think I've spent the last six months with you and don't understand that? I knew this was temporary."
"Lis, don't say that." He stepped forward quickly and placed his hands on her cheeks, pulling her face up towards his own. "You're not temporary."
"It's okay, really," she told him, her voice wavering ever so slightly. "It's not your fault. It's who you are. You're a hunter. We both know you're not a construction worker." She withdrew and moved back to arm's length. "You were grieving and broken and such a wreck after Sam died but I knew it was just a matter of time before you pulled yourself together enough to figure out this isn't the life for you. That I'm not the one for you. I wish I was but I'm not. I can't be."
"God, Lis, you've been the best thing that has ever happened to me," he told her sincerely.
"But I'm not the one," she repeated. "There's a difference. The one for you is someone who risks her life over and over to save her brother, like you did for Sam. I would bury my sister and move on. The one for you is someone that an angel would interfere to save her life. Someone who jumps in front of an invisible hellhound to protect a complete stranger and her son." She let out a long sigh as she looked into his eyes. "Someone who knows monsters are real and doesn't choose to pretend they're not."
Dean knew exactly what she was saying, who she was talking about, and knew he was admitting it was all true by not denying it. He also knew part of her was still hoping he would argue with her, fight for her, insist this is the life he wanted and he felt terrible as he watched that last trace of hope leave her eyes when he remained silent.
If Sam could get out, then so could Adam and he couldn't just leave his brother in there. Half or full brother, whether he knew him or not, Adam was still his family.
On top of that, Laney needed Adam. She was in the same sorry, broken state he had been in when he had shown up here and Dean felt like he had to be the one to help her because she didn't have her own version of Lisa, someone patient and understanding and tolerant who could help slowly put the pieces back together until she could stand on her own. Seeing her again had ignited that lifelong compulsion Dean had felt to save her, to see her happy.
He was still in this fight, damnit. Dean Winchester wasn't out of the game just yet. He wasn't done saving people. He felt equal measures of invigoration and trepidation flowing through him at his epiphany.
He looked back at Lisa, his heart twisting with intense guilt. "Lis," he breathed. "I didn't mean for…"
She raised her hand to stop him from talking. "I'm glad you showed up, Dean. I am. You've been so good with Ben these past months and honestly, I've never been happier. It was all worth it but we both know Ben and I can't be a part of your other life. And that other life is your life. You can't hide out in mine anymore."
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry." He pulled her back towards her, leaning in and giving her a long, deep kiss. When he finally pulled away, he saw she was crying and he brushed a tear away with his thumb. "I'm sorry," he repeated, resting his forehead against hers.
She managed a sad smile. "Don't be. I'm not. I don't regret a minute of it."
"Me neither," he agreed, forcing himself to take a step away from her before he changed his mind. "Do you want me to tell Ben?"
She shook her head. "Let's both tell him."
~x~x~x~x~x~
Laney pulled back into Singer Salvage Yard to find Bobby's Chevelle gone but the black Charger parked right in front of the house. She groaned, not looking forward to alone time with the cold-hearted creep that used to be Sam. Ever since they had discovered the absence of his soul, Sam had dropped his human act, openly admitting he didn't care about any of them and hunted just because it was 'what he did'. She could see the pain in Bobby's kind eyes every time he looked at the man he thought of as his son.
She came inside to find him mixing some pungent liquid in an intricately carved ivory bowl. "You get the figurine?"' he greeted her.
She tossed him a burlap wrapped object. "One eye-bleeding Virgin Mary, as ordered." Glancing into the study, she noticed symbols drawn on papers all over the walls and enough burning candles to rival the lights of the Strip at Vegas.
"Got a romantic date, Dexter?" she said, though her voice lacked any humor. Since he had murdered her father, she had gone out of her way to avoid Sam but for the past week, she and Bobby had been working closely with him on a plan to get his missing piece and Adam out of the cage. He didn't seem particularly enthusiastic about getting his soul or his conscience back, but a small, guilty part of her was almost glad it was still down there because now Bobby had thrown all his efforts into getting it back and the experienced hunter was a walking encyclopedia of the supernatural. Laney's desperate and reckless behaviour the past months had been rewarded with a lot of information and half-cocked plans on how to get Adam out but it wasn't until the three had combined her ideas with Bobby's wealth of knowledge and sharp mind as well as the information Sam had picked up in his five-years downstairs (for apparently Lucifer liked the sound of his own voice and was quite the talker) that they had figured out a plausible plan.
It again involved Kharon hounds and slipping the younger Winchesters' souls out the back door to the cage she had discovered, but Bobby's version of her previous plan was far more thought out and cautious.
"Bobby's stuck in Canning," Sam told her, ignoring the jibe. "He says we should go ahead and do the first part without him or we'll miss the full moon."
Laney's heart skipped a beat. "Really?" she questioned, not liking the thought of only having Sam to back her up. Bobby had torn her a new one about the dangerous tattoos she had acquired last month but they turned out to be quite useful because they made the spell untraceable as long as she performed it.
Sam shrugged. "It's a pretty simple spell," he said. "Unless you want to wait another month."
"No, no. Let's do it now. Another month is ten more years for Adam, remember?"
"Not something I would likely forget," Sam mumbled and Laney actually regretted the comment.
"Sorry." She went into the study. Sam had certainly been busy because everything was ready. The symbols, the altar, the candle arrangement, the mixture in the bowl he was placing on the floor. She noted the small animal cage on the floor and swallowed, refraining from looking inside. The sacrifice. She'd let Sam take care of that part. Cute little bunny rabbits had no effect on him.
"Okay, we need to run this all by Dean then," she said, taking off her coat.
Sam waved his hand in the air. "Just talked to him. He's not real thrilled but he says if we think it's a good plan and if it'll save Adam, we should go for it."
"Really?" The brunette raised a sceptical eyebrow. She had expected some argument from Dean, especially since he didn't even know Sam's soul was still at stake also.
Sam nodded. "He says he wants you to be careful."
"Okay, let's do this then," she agreed, sitting down on the couch by the window that Bobby generally used as a bed. The altar was on the coffee table a few feet away and she silently wished again that Bobby was here also. Summoning another pair of Kharon hounds wasn't high on her list of favorite-things-to-do and she would rather someone she trusted was here to have her back if things went south.
"You know, I don't get it," Sam ventured, placing the still-bleeding figurine she had just acquired in its place on top of the altar. "Dean's not your boss. Why do you let him dictate what you can and can't do?"
"You wouldn't have to ask that if you had your soul."
"No seriously." Sam sat down on the nearby chair and leaned back. "You do know he's banging Lisa every night, right?"
Laney shot him a heated glare. "I swear, if we don't get your soul back soon I'm going to shoot you myself." She held her hand out. "You got the spell?"
He shrugged and handed her a piece of paper with Assyrian words neatly written on one side. She took it and neither of them bothered with any words of encouragement or inspiration before she started reading them out loud. Sam moved towards the animal cage and Laney turned quickly away, keeping her eyes locked on the paper in her hands even when she heard a sharp squeal. She felt the heat beside her of Sam setting fire to the contents of the ivory bowl and sped up her reading to suit.
As she recited the last words on the page, she felt a sudden tightening in her chest which quickly turned into a sharp pain and then unbearable agony. Crap, this wasn't supposed to happen. Something was wrong. She dropped the paper and fell back onto the couch, gasping and writhing for a few seconds, clutching at her chest and struggling to breathe. "Sam!" she rasped, trying to focus on him, her eyes pleading for help. The last thing she could make out was him sitting back in the armchair watching her with what she could only describe as indifference before her vision blurred completely and she gave in to the darkness pulling at her.
She finally fell still, her blue eyes open and unblinking and staring blankly at the ceiling, with one arm and one leg hanging limply of the side of the couch. Only then did Sam rise to his feet and step towards her, calmly passing his hand back and forth over her face. Getting no reaction, his lips broke out into a satisfied smirk. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a new sheet of handwritten Assyrian text, placing it in her hand before scooping up the one she had been reading from and stuffing it in his jacket pocket. He made his way around the room, taking down a few of the symbols they had pinned on the walls and replacing them with different ones.
He moved back over to beside the couch and stood with his hands on his hips for a moment, looking around the room and at the motionless girl on the couch before pulling out his cell. There were a few seconds of calm silence before he spoke into the phone in a hurried, panicked voice.
"Bobby! Something's wrong. I think Laney tried the spell by herself!" A short pause. "No, I came in and she's just lying here...Yeah, dead rabbit, bleeding figurine, the whole bit….No, I won't touch anything….Just hurry Bobby!"
He hung up the phone, walked through into the kitchen, grabbed a beer, and came back in only to sink into the nearby armchair, putting his feet up on the coffee table with a sigh. "One down, one to go."
~x~x~x~x~x~
Bobby dashed into the house a half hour later, giving Sam a wary glare before heading over to the couch to check Laney's pulse. "She's still alive," he announced, his relief evident. "What happened? Why in the hell wouldn't she wait for me? She knew I'd be back by suppertime." His questions were aimed at Sam but his attention was focused on the various elements of the spell around the room. He moved around, studying the painted sigils hanging up on the walls to try and see where the spell had gone wrong.
Sam just shrugged. "When does Laney ever use common sense?"
Bobby glowered at him. "Wouldn't kill you to at least pretend to be concerned," he spat.
"I am," Sam argued unconvincingly. "It's not like I wanted her dead."
"She ain't dead!" Bobby hissed, gently pulling the paper from her hand and reading the text.
"Looks to me like that's just a matter of time."
"Damnit, what went wrong?" Bobby murmured, more to himself than to the tall hunter standing next to him with his arms folded across his chest.
"I think we can all agree this soul-searching thing's getting a little too dangerous," Sam said solemnly. "I think we oughta back off it for a while."
"We got more immediate problems, Sam," Bobby growled, shaking his head at how unlike the real Sam this soulless version was. How had the kid fooled him for the past five and a half months? Admittedly, Sam hadn't spent much time at the salvage yard, instead just stopping in now and then to get some information or a trinket or two, but still... Bobby picked up the ivory carved bowl and sniffed the contents, pulling it sharply away from his face and wrinkling his nose. "What the hell?"
He jerked his head around to narrow his eyes at Sam. "There's roseweed in this!" He scowled and looked back at Laney. "I specifically told her meadowsweet. No way she'd screw that up..."
He spun back around sharply just in time to avoid the tall hunter's fist from slamming into his face. He countered immediately, swinging the heavy ivory bowl and smacking it into the side of Sam's head with a crack, sending the rank-smelling liquid contents flying and the soulless robot down to one knee. Knowing better than to try and take on the younger, faster, and bigger man in an even fight, Bobby turned and fled the room, heading down the hallway.
Sam recovered quickly and sprang after him. "Bobby?" he called almost tauntingly as he advanced down the hallway. "You know you can't take me out, Bobby."
Sam passed the open door to the basement, the location of the panic room where Bobby usually kept a lot of his serious firepower. He snorted and started down the stairs. "You gonna shoot me, Bobby? You know you won't be able to do it. I'm still Sammy."
Bobby darted out of the closet in the hall and slammed the basement door shut, locking it from the outside. "Not 'till you get that soul back, you're not," he growled. "You did that to Laney, didn't you?" he demanded through the door. "You were gonna try kill me too?"
Sam banged loudly on the reinforced metal door, which didn't budge. "I had to stop her, Bobby," he defended. "I don't want my soul back. You heard what Cas said but she just wouldn't give up." There was a pause during which Bobby closed his eyes and leaned against the wall next to the door. "I didn't want to kill you, Bobby," Sam continued, actually managing to sound sincere. "You're a handy guy for a hunter to have around. I was hoping you'd see that the spell hadn't worked and just agree to drop the soul-searching thing. But then you figured out I'd switched the potions so...I had no choice."
"D'you think your brother would've let you get away with this? Or were you planning on killing him too?"
"No need," was Sam's rational reply. "He doesn't know I'm running soul-free here. He'll just think Laney went off the rails and took you down with her. I'm not a total monster, you know. "
Bobby chose to ignore that comment. "We're trying to help you, Sam. When we get you back, you'll see that."
"Well I'm fine the way I am. Why can't you all just leave me alone?"
"Coz we love you, y'idjit!" He swallowed past the lump in his throat, concentrating on turning the hurt into determination. "What did you do to Laney?" he demanded finally. "How did you rig the spell?"
"If I tell you will you let me out of here?"
"No frigging way! You're staying there 'till I get that soul of yours stuffed back in ya even if I have to cram it up your lying ass with my boot!" He struggled to reign in his temper. "Tell me somethin', why'd you go to all this trouble? Why not just shoot her?"
"Couldn't have her upstairs talking to Cas," was Sam's cryptic reply.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Bobby got no response and despite repeated attempts to reinitiate conversation, Sam remained silent. He needed to find out what kind of spell Laney had performed and what was wrong with her. Her heart had been beating but her eyes were completely vacant and her breathing had been faint. It was going to be a lot tougher figuring it out without Sam's help.
"Bobby!" he heard a sudden familiar but panicked voice shouting from the study. "Bobby!"
He rushed back up the hallway to find Dean standing wild-eyed in the room, staring in turn at Laney, the dead rabbit, the symbols on the walls, then back at Laney. "What the hell's going on?"
"What are you doing here, Dean?" he grumbled, immediately going back to studying the symbols to see what Sam could have done.
"I left Lisa," the younger man blurted. "I came back but..." he looked back down at Laney. "What the hell did I come back to, Bobby? She's completely unresponsive. And what's all this crap?" He waved his hand around the room. "What's going on?"
Bobby sighed and broke the news. "Seems Sam left a piece of himself down in the pit. His soul. He made it out, but his soul didn't."
Dean remained quiet as he took in the new, disturbing information. "Okay," he said, his voice hard. "So what does that mean? And where is he? And what's going on here?"
"It means he's gone all Mr. Hyde on us. Got no conscience; he's cold and unfeeling and really damn creepy," Bobby elaborated. "And he's locked downstairs in the basement right now because he did this." He pointed to Laney. "Turns out he doesn't want his soul back. After six months, or sixty years, of being Lucifer's bitch, he figures he'd rather stay emo-free than have to deal with it all. We had planned a spell to find a back door to the cage but he musta rigged it so something's gone wrong and..."
"And what?" Dean demanded. "Is she ... gone?"
Bobby spotted a folded piece of paper on the floor that was covered in the foul liquid and stooped to pick it up. His lips moved silently as he read the words on the page and he closed his eyes with realization. "Balls," he growled.
"What is it?"
"This musta fallen outta Sam's pocket when I hit him. I'm guessing he let her read this spell then switched them out."
Dean swallowed. "What is that spell?"
"A damn Devil's Gate is what it is."
"What?" Dean's heart dropped right out of his chest. He had expected to ease himself back into hunting but to arrive at Bobby's right in the middle of a shitstorm wasn't quite what he had in mind. His apparently evil, soulless brother had tricked Laney into opening a Devil's Gate, a gate TO HELL, and ... oh Jesus ... and what? He shot Bobby a panicked, questioning look.
Bobby nodded. "Yup," he said, confirming Dean's worst fears. "My guess is she's been sent through the gate. That's what he meant by not wanting her upstairs talking to Cas. He sent her downstairs."
"Are you telling me she's in hell?" Dean was aware his voice was shaking but couldn't help it. He struggled to keep from losing it all together as he realized it was happening again. "Oh God, Bobby. No, no. I can't do this again. First Dad, then me, then Sam and Adam, now Laney? And don't forget you're next when your time's up!" He was shouting now and practically waving his arms in the air. "Why do we all end up going to hell? None of us deserve to go to hell, Bobby! Why does this keep happening?"
Bobby raised his hand to calm Dean down. "You done?" he asked. "Coz her body's still breathing. She's just got one foot in the pit but the other's still here so if you quit your melodrama, we can maybe get her out."
"How?"
"I don't have the faintest but..."
"Damnit Bobby!"
"Hey! You got out, your daddy got out, I ain't there yet, and right now we got an open door to work with for Laney so don't give up yet. Keep it together, son." He used his best John Winchester tone on the last line.
Dean immediately stilled and Bobby could see the hunter pulling himself together at the commanding voice.
Dean wiped his hand down across his clean-shaven chin and tried to collect his thoughts and quell the panic. Welcome back to his freaking messed up life. "Alright," he said calmly. "We got Sam locked down. We got a hell-door still open." His eyes lit up. "And we got friends in high places." He turned his head upwards. "Cas! Cas, goddamnit, get your ass down here!" he bellowed. "Please," he added as an afterthought.
"I can hear you just as easily when you speak quietly," Cas's husky voice spoke from the corner of the room behind Dean. "And the use of profanity is not necessary."
The two men spun towards him to find him looking rather disapprovingly at the markings on the walls. "What's going on here?" he asked.
"Sam's soul didn't make it out of the pit," Dean blurted.
"I am aware of that," came the solemn reply.
"Hmph." Dean had spoken to the angel ten hours ago in Lisa's garage and Cas had neglected to mention that minor detail. Oh well, another argument for another day. "He tricked Laney into opening a Devil's Gate and from what we can tell, she's been sent through it."
Cas frowned, glancing at the unconscious girl on the couch behind Dean. "That is unfortunate." He looked up at Dean. "I am sorry. I know how much you cared for her."
"Well I'm not counting her out just yet," Dean snapped. "I need to know if there's a way to get her back out this devil's gate before we close it up. You got me out of Hell; can you get her out?"
Cas frowned. "I'm afraid I had the help of a thousand other angels to get you out," he told the pair. "If I was to step into hell now, the demons would know I was there within seconds and I would be killed within minutes. I am not powerful enough to defeat an entire host of demons."
"Well someone got Sam's body out," Dean shifted his focus. "So I guess I'm gonna summon Crowley and find out who."
Cas sighed. "I brought Sam back," he admitted bluntly. Dean and Bobby both jerked their heads up to stare at him wide-eyed. The angel shrugged and continued. "I brought his body back to life but I didn't realize his soul wasn't in it until last week. I'm sorry. I guess I….I screwed up." He cocked his a little as he spoke, unsure if his terminology was correct, but his expression was genuinely apologetic as he stared directly at Dean. "I just wanted you to have your brother back, to find the peace you were seeking."
Dean closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. "It's okay," he told his friend with no trace of anger. "You didn't know. But if you can't go down there and get Laney out, then I'm going."
"HELL NO!" yelled Bobby, grabbing Dean's forearm so tightly the younger man winced.
"The door's still open, Bobby," Dean argued, pulling his arm free. "She's right there. I'm not closing that door on her and we can't leave it open much longer or demons'll start popping out of it."
"You can't just hop in there and pull someone out, Dean!" Bobby shouted back, the fear evident in his voice. "It doesn't work that way!"
"Actually..." Cas interjected, silencing both Bobby's continued argument and Dean's rebuttal. "It might."
"There'll be demons all over her!" Bobby spat, turning his vehemence on the angel.
"Not necessarily. As long as her earthbound body keeps breathing, the wards she has in place will hold. She's hidden from most demons," Cas said calmly. "She may be able to elude them. Even my angels had a hard time tracking her."
"The tattoos!" Dean exclaimed, feeling his first bit of hope.
"Then how's Dean supposed to find her?" Bobby demanded. "Hell's a big place."
Dean had no doubts the older hunter cared about Laney but he knew Bobby would give up on anyone and everyone rather than see Dean go back to hell. After spending just six months with Ben, he could understand how this was a father's absolute worst nightmare come true but as much as he regretted having to put the old guy through this again, he just couldn't leave Laney down there. This time he was going to save her.
Cas directed his reply towards Dean. "You'll be able to find her the same way you found Sam in Heaven," he explained. "You and Laney are ... you share a deep bond. That bond carries into both Heaven and Hell."
Dean wasn't particularly surprised at Cas's last words and believed them without doubt. He couldn't explain why but Laney had always been special to him, far more than his limited time with her would logically have warranted. Call it a 'bond' or a 'connection' or whatever; it was there. Similar to what he felt with Sam and, in a strange way, similar to what he sometimes felt with Cas. He would find her.
"And time and space don't exactly behave down there," Bobby continued, not giving up. "I've had a few chats with Crowley over the past few months," he explained with a shrug when he caught the raised eyebrows aimed at him. "Smug bastard's still got my contract, remember?" He grabbed Dean's arm again. "At least let me do it," he practically begged. "My train's headed that way anyway."
Dean shook his way free. "No way. I spent four decades down there, Bobby. I know how things work. I'm her best chance."
"What's to stop the demons from finding you as soon as you show up?" Bobby countered.
Cas stepped forward and pressed his hand against Dean's chest. The hunter felt a sharp pain shoot through him and looked up at Cas with a disgruntled, questioning look.
"I have re-marked your ribs," the angel explained. "As long as we keep your body alive here, they will not sense you. The only way they will find you is if you physically run into them. I believe it will be the same for Laney."
"Then how's he supposed to get back out?" Bobby asked with resignation, his argument starting to lose wind.
"If he makes it back to the gate, I can bring them both back out."
"That's all I need to hear," Dean cut short the argument. "Bobby, make this happen." He stole a glance at Laney. "And do it fast."
~x~x~x~x~x~
Dean's eyes snapped open but it was a long few seconds before his heart followed suit and recovered from the gripping fear that had a hold of it. "This is different," he whispered to himself, fighting to stay calm as the reality of where he was hit him. "This is different. Not like last time. They don't know I'm here. They don't know I'm here."
He took stock of his surroundings, which looked exactly as he remembered. Bleak and frightening. Also familiar was the perpetual background noise of thousands of souls screaming for mercy in the distance and the pungent smell of burning human flesh. God, he really hadn't missed this place. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This time was different - he wasn't on the rack. He wasn't on Alistair's radar. He just had to find Laney and get back here so Cas could pull them out.
He tightened his grip on the blade in his hand, surprised but thankful that Cas had been correct that Ruby's knife would make it down here with him. Apparently being the only earthbound weapon known to have been forged down here made it transferable. Originating in Hell was also gave it its ability to kill a demon outright. Dean had cursed Ruby for the eight hundredth time upon hearing that news grumbling that that would have been nice to know before the hellhounds had come for him.
Not that it would have given him even a fighting chance. He had been here for all of two seconds before a hundred demons surrounded him, drooling in anticipation, and in the blink of an eye, he'd found himself suspended by meathooks tearing savagely into his flesh and ripping through his bone. He still remembered the unimaginable pain, his own voice screaming, the searing heat and…
He shook his head clear of the near-crippling memories. He needed to keep it together – Laney needed him to keep it together. Cas had said he should be able to find her by just thinking of her and following his heart, whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. In Heaven, he had simply willed himself to find Sam and followed 'the road'. He brought a mental picture of the pretty brunette to mind and looked around.
To his right there was a river of thick, dark red blood, bubbling and gurgling over bones and hollowed out human skulls, symbolic remnants of souls that had since been turned. It flowed uphill and weaved its way behind a huge pile of bones a hundred yards away. Dean shrugged and headed in that direction. That was as close to a road as he was going to find down here.
As soon as he rounded the corner behind the bonepile, he heard Laney screaming. He fisted the hilt of Ruby's knife and ran forward, not even blinking as his surroundings morphed around him. He was in one of the torture chambers now, a large one but thankfully not a busy one. He'd seen a thousand of these during his tour, experiencing such places from both sides of the rack. Two demons were laughing maliciously as they rammed various sharp instruments through a coffin-sized box standing on its end in the middle of the room. Blood was trickling out of the holes they left as their weapons were repeatedly withdrawn.
The hunter didn't hesitate, taking immediate advantage of his element of surprise. He walked right up to the demons, who looked like hollowed-out, ghastly versions of their former human forms, and rammed the knife into the neck of the closest one. It screamed and collapsed quickly and Dean faced off against the second.
"What the…wait …you're Dean Winchester!" The demon began backing nervously away from Dean. "What are you doing back here? I hadn't heard… Wait, wait…" He held his hands in the air. "I didn't know she was yours! We just found her wandering around! You can have her … we were just getting her warmed up for you."
Dean didn't bother with any smart ass retort or explanation; he simply lunged and stabbed the demon in the gut, dropping him to the ground next to his low-level accomplice and hating that the pair of demons had been so afraid of him – of what he had been the last time he was here.
He pushed those thoughts aside and stepped up to the wooden box. He could hear Laney inside, gasping and crying and his nostrils were assaulted with the ripe smell of her blood flowing freely out of the holes. Given a few second reprieve from the agony of the repeated stab wounds, she began pounding on the inside walls and screaming for help. Dean called to her but she clearly wasn't in any state to hear him for she kept banging and pleading to get out.
He picked up one of the heavier swords the demons had been using and started striking the lock with the hilt, desperate to put a stop to the sheer terror he could hear in her voice. She was pleading for her father to let her out and it tore at Dean's insides to realize she was reliving a much, much worse version of her memories as a child of being locked in the closet, her phobia of small places inducing an all-out panic.
The first things the demons pick up on when a soul reaches hell are its most obvious fears. Dean was afraid of flying and not having solid footing on the ground so his first round of torture had been unimaginable physical pain while suspended over a bottomless chasm of searing heat and nothingness. It had soon expanded to include sharp instruments and fire but it had been a few of months before the demons had started the mindgames and brought Sam into the equation. It made sense, therefore, that they had picked up on Laney's claustrophobia and run with that first, the intention being to induce panic and terror on top of the pain. It was what Dean would have done.
Laney kept screaming, oblivious to Dean's presence. "Please help me! Let me out! Daddy!"
He finally got the lock off and hauled at the chains until he could muscle the door open. Laney practically fell out into his arms, still shuddering and crying almost hysterically, blood everywhere. Dean couldn't fault her; he too had been reduced to a whimpering wreck after a few hours down here, panic and pain wiping out any sense of coherency or awareness. It had taken him a few days of constant torture before he had managed to steel himself and clear his head enough to remember where he was and be able to regain any sense of composure.
His favorite thing during his last decade down here had been the first few days with a new soul on his rack. Getting to them before they had adjusted to the alternate reality of hell – the reality in which pain that excruciating and wounds that severe were not fatal. In which nothing was fatal, in fact, because it wasn't a person's real body being tortured but their soul and souls don't die. They just hurt and suffer until they turn into something dark and twisted and evil. It had been his greatest source of enjoyment to tear into newbie flesh when that kind of pain was still unimaginable to them and while the screams were fresh and the pleas still held some hope for mercy.
Looking at such a soul right now, collapsed in his arms and frantically trying to hold the gaping wounds on her torso closed, tore at Dean worse than Alistair's knife ever had.
"Laney, you're safe," he repeated over and over, holding her tightly and trying to snap her out of her fear. "It's me, Dean. I've got you. You're safe. It's me, Dean."
Finally she stopped struggling, one fist wrapping tightly in his shirt but the other clutching her stomach. "Dean?" she choked.
"Yeah, Lane, it's me. You're safe now. It's over."
"Guh," she made chortling sound. "No. They got me... I…they stabbed…bad..." Her words were breathless but at least she was calming down.
"No," he told her quickly, cupping her face and forcibly tilting it towards his. "No, Lane, listen to me. It's not real."
She shook her head and moaned in pain, trying to pull away. "They stabbed me."
"Laney!" Dean's voice this time was stern and he grabbed her wrists, pulling them away from her shredded, blood-soaked top. "It's not real. Once the pain stops, the wounds go away. It's not real. It's over. You're fine now."
He saw confusion on her face as she looked down at her torso again, this time pressing gently at her side with her fingers, exploring. "I'm not…?" she trailed off, her breathing slowing.
"No," he assured her. "This isn't your real body. Things are different down here, okay? It took me a long time to learn this, Laney. I know you felt the pain but when it stops, you can heal. It's stopped. Let it stop. Let it be over."
Thankfully, he could see his words registering and knew for certain she had understood him when the blood disappeared from her shirt and jeans. Dean had always hated the short reprieve the demons had given him at the end of each day, those few minutes during which his body had healed and the pain had stopped for just long enough for him to remember what it was like to not hurt before the next round started all over again.
But for Laney, there wouldn't be a next round. Now that she understood she wasn't torn to shreds, her wounds had disappeared and Dean wasn't about to let the demons touch her again.
Before he could say anything else, her arms were around his neck and she was hugging him tightly. He returned the embrace, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of her breath on his neck, of her warmth pressed against him, both close and safe. There was something so right about holding her but something so wrong about feeling this way while in hell.
He pulled away quickly. "Come on," he said, tugging at her arm. "We gotta go."
"Where?" Laney asked, falling in behind him and suddenly impressively composed . "Where are we? Is this Hell?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah and Cas is waiting to take up back topside."
"How'd you get here?" she asked. "Are you even real? How'd I get here? Am I dead? Are we dead?"
A short laugh escaped the hunter at the number of questions and the absurdity of the whole situation. "No, we're alive but not for long if we don't find Cas. I'm as real as you are though we're not really here; our souls are. Sam screwed with the spell and sent you here."
"That bastard!" she spat. "I'm gonna wring his neck. We need to get his damn soul back. Wait…" she stammered, stumbling in her footing and tugging him to a stop. "Are you saying you came down here to save me? To hell?"
Dean turned to look at her and a sudden feeling swept over him, a feeling hard to define. Redemption? Validation? Self-worth? He was really saving her this time. She loved him and for once he was coming through for her. A smirk spread across his face as he tugged her hand to keep going. "Of course."
She let him drag her forward again and they ran for a hundred yards before the landscape suddenly morphed around them again into the bleak rocky-flatland scene Dean had been greeted with upon his arrival. "Where are we going?" she asked when he stopped again.
The hunter was standing facing her, still holding her hand but staring at her with a look of surprised realization on his face.
"You're going back upstairs," he said as Cas suddenly appeared next to them, surrounded by a dark shadow that looked like the entrance to a wormhole from a science fiction movie. Dean turned to the angel. "Get her out of here," he ordered, pushing Laney gently towards the serious-looking figure in the trench coat. "I'm going for Sam and Adam."
~x~x~x~x~x~
A/N: Hope I didn't upset any Lisa fans but Dean just couldn't stay on the sidelines any longer :-) And I am enjoying writing Soulless Sam; he's all kinds of fun! Hope you enjoyed this chapter and I will try to have the last one up as soon as I can. Thanks to everyone whose still reading this and I hope I don't disappoint. Please review and let me know what you thought.