hello everyone. thank you all for the great reviews, i'm glad you're still enjoying the story. sorry for the delay in updating, i've got mono and have been a little run down lately. as always, enjoy, and let me know what you think. :)
A DOOR IN THE DARK
Chapter 10
John couldn't hide his pride as he looked up at his eldest son. Dean had put it all together, figured out what was going on while the rest of them fought about god knows what. It wasn't that he thought Dean was dumb, it was just that his eldest son had a way of seeing past all the things he and Sam seemed destined to butt heads about. And sometimes, John forgot that. The hunter's mind quickly shifted to the problem at hand, knowing now wasn't the time to let his mind drift toward family. They were up against Emere, and John didn't know if they'd be able to make it back out. He'd seen the boys talking at the house, and he now knew they had been speaking with one of the children.
And John knew that, if the children had already singled out Sam and Dean, then they were in big trouble. He sighed, running his hands over his face— nothing in their lives could ever be easy. Bobby had been sending them on smaller hunts, helping Dean get back into the swing of things after his surgery. But somehow, what once looked like a simple case had turned into one of the biggest of his career.
"What's an Emere?" Sam asked.
John looked up, his dark eyes settling on his youngest son. There was tension in the air, he could feel it with each breath he took, and John knew even the slightest misstep would set the young man off. It wasn't that he was afraid of Sam, not entirely— no, if John had to describe it, he'd say he was heartbroken. Sam wasn't the little boy he remembered, wasn't the wide eyed, inquisitive boy that fought with him over college, wasn't the man that fell in love with Jessica. He was different, harder— a hunter.
"It's hard to explain." John began, his voice gruff. He was tired, but they needed a game plan, they needed to have a untied front.
"That code for need to know?"
"Sam." Dean tried to break in, but John knew he had to step up. He couldn't let Dean be the middle man any longer, couldn't let him take the brunt of the fights between he and Sam. That position had almost killed Dean on numerous occasions, and John refused to put him in the line of fire again.
"No, Dean, I'll explain."
If the situation wasn't so dire, John would have laughed at the look on Sam's face. It was a look of complete shock, like John's statement was something the younger man was sure he'd never hear. And that single thought almost destroyed the hunter. His children, his boys didn't trust him to tell them what they needed to know, didn't believe he'd ever treat them like equals— and John knew he had no one to blame but himself.
"Are they spirits?" Sam prompted, sitting on the bed beside his brother. And, for an instant, they were John's little boys again.
"No, not in the traditional sense at least. They are the images of dead children, but they have powers and knowledge a normal spirit wouldn't possess."
"The one's I've seen don't look like they have any special powers."
John's worst fears were confirmed by his youngest son's statement. The incident he'd witnessed hadn't been the boys' first encounter with an Emere, and John knew it wouldn't be the last. The Emere had chosen his boys, and it was going to be a fight to get them back.
"That's 'cause they're smart, Sam. And above all else, they know how to get what they want— even if their prey doesn't know it." John emphasized the last part, trying to convey to his boys the danger they were truly in.
"Prey?" Sam asked, Dean's eyes drifting to the younger man.
John could see the protectiveness building in his eldest's sharp green eyes, his body tensing as he listened to his father speak. He knew there was more going on, knew something else had happened between his boys and the Emere— and John needed to know what.
"Yes, Sam, prey."
"What exactly is an Emere, like a demon?"
"No. A lot of people call them angels, but that couldn't be further from the truth. See, Emere are children that died on days of great joy, and not just any kind of death. They are kids that died suddenly, violently."
"What makes them different than regular spirits? I mean, most angry spirits died violently."
"They moved on." It was Dean who spoke, his voice quiet. "They moved on to heaven, and came back."
"How?" Sam asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I thought only Reapers could do that."
"That's what makes Emere so powerful— they can move freely between heaven, earth and hell. They have no boundaries."
"What are they doing here?"
"Judging. They're choosing those they believe are worthy of heaven." Dean spoke, scrubbing at his face.
"Not entirely." John broke in. It was a common misconception about Emere. It was why many people believed they were angels. "They don't judge. They're here from heaven, and while they give unconditional support to heaven while on earth, they aren't sent by any power."
"Then how do they come back?"
"No one knows. That's why they've been mistaken as angels. They're rare, Sam, incredibly rare, and dangerous. You see, Emere don't come to earth on friendly terms. They're upset, upset that earth doesn't allow them back as they were, upset that they're looked upon differently because they're dead. They come back to let people know what it feels like to be dead."
"Russell said the parents were given a message to rebuild the city just as it was, that if they did, the children would come back." Dean began after a few moment's silence, the other three turning to him at the statement.
"Why'd they rebuild over the river then, why not just use the town that was here?" Bobby asked, speaking for the first time.
"The ground was probably too tainted to support people again." Sam spoke, voicing the most logical option.
That was Sam, logical, even in the world of the supernatural and unexplained. It was something that had always amazed John. They lived in a world where logic was normally the furthest thing from his mind, yet Sam still found comfort in the notion. John had always suspected it was his youngest son's way of bringing normal into their abnormal lives. Sam needed to be grounded, needed to feel in control, and if this was his way of coping, John couldn't fault him.
"So they moved over the river? I wonder if the kids were happy about that." Bobby chimed in, bringing up another frightening thought.
"I would say not." John answered, sighing as he stood and began to pace. All he wanted to do was find his boys safe and sound. But instead he found them right in the middle of a mini apocalypse.
"Russell said the community changed when the kids came back. That it got darker, lost its heart." Dean began, his worried eyes still on Sam. "He said the kids made the parents erase all records of the explosion."
"How do you erase public records like that?" Sam asked, and John could sense his son's fears growing with each passing moment, a light breeze picking up in the room the only indication to his growing powers.
"He said he didn't know and he didn't ask."
"But wait," John began, Dean's earlier statement coming back to him. "no one talks of the explosion, everyone pretends it didn't happen because that's what the kids want."
"Yeah, what are you getting at, Dad?"
"Russell's the one that blew up the school, why's he still breathing? I would think he'd be first on the Emere hit list."
"He said he is, that's why he stayed here."
"The Emere can't get over here." Sam broke in, his eyes widening as all the pieces began to fit together.
"The Emere can go wherever they want, Sam." Dean chided, rolling his eyes. "I just told you that."
"Maybe they can't. I mean, everything has a weakness, right, maybe the Emere can't go back to where they died."
"I donna know, Sam."
"Why not? I mean, the explosion was enough to destroy an entire city, a pretty close knit one from what you said, so why can't it be enough to keep the Emere away?"
"I hope you're right, Sam, 'cause at the moment, that's all the leverage we have." John sighed, leaning against the bathroom door. He looked at his sons, long and hard. He was proud of them, even though he knew his words and actions never showed it. They had grown into great men, men John couldn't have been prouder to call his children. Unfortunately, the things they hunted also knew exactly how special Sam and Dean were.
"Why's that?" Dean began, shifting as he sat, his eyes still on Sam. "What aren't you telling us?"
"You boys have seen the Emere? More than once?"
"Yeah, one came up to Sam. A girl named Rebecca Moss."
"Damn it."
"Dad, what?"
"The Emere choose people, it's why a lot of people believe they've come here to judge."
"Choose people? For what?"
"I'm not really sure."
"You think they've chosen me, don't you." Sam spoke up, his face unreadable.
"Sam, things have changed." Bobby broke in, meeting John's steely glare. This was about more than just the Emere. The Iblis's words were still rocketing through John's overloaded mind. Others were after Sam, and some were far more powerful than John had ever thought.
"What do you mean things have changed? Dad, please, tell me what's going on." Dean was on his feet now, pacing the small room.
"Dean, what do you remember about your knee surgery?"
"What? Uh, it didn't get finished right and got infected," Dean answered puzzled. "What's that got to do with any of this?"
"Do you remember the warehouse?"
"A little. I remember some guy was after Sam. He said, if you let us have him, this will all be over."
John sighed, wishing he didn't have to put Dean through the torture of that day again— after all, it had almost been his last. Marshal had drowned Dean and, had it not been for Sam and the Asura's power, his eldest son wouldn't be here now.
"The man's name was Marshal Williamson, he was a hunter." John supplied.
"Why is it always hunters after us?" Dean mumbled. "I mean, I know we're awesome, but they should learn to deal with it."
"I'm sure you rubbing your awesomeness in their faces isn't going to gain their trust, Dean. Joshua seemed pretty pissed about that." Sam eyed his brother, though his tone was lighter than it had been.
"Whatever."
"Marshal was working with a demon, much like Joshua." John added, looking at his watch. It was getting late, and they all needed rest.
"Another Asura?"
"No, Dean, something called an Iblis."
"An Iblis as in, inspired stories of the devil?"
"Yeah, that kind of Iblis."
"Does the name Winchester just attract bigger bad guys than other names?"
"I'm beginning to think it does."
"So what, there's an Iblis after us, too?"
"No, Bobby and I took care of it before we came here. It confronted us and told us it couldn't find you, and we didn't want to lead it here."
"You having parties with demons now, Dad?" Dean asked, eying his father suspiciously. After all, this was a demon that nearly killed him, a demon that was very interested in Sam's soul.
"Look," Bobby broke in, trying to quell an argument before it began. "It's late, we're all tired. Let's just get some rest, we'll discuss it all when we've had some sleep."
"No," Dean spoke up, staring daggers at Bobby. "No, I wanna know what's going on. I mean, you freaking ignore us for weeks, Dad, and now you expect me to let you drop some bombshell about angels and demons wanting Sam and then hit the sack? You don't trust me, Dad, I get it, but don't treat me like some kind of worthless idiot."
"Dean—." John began, his son's words stinging him. Of course he trusted Dean.
"Dad's right," Sam's quiet voice broke through the growing storm, stopping both John and Dean in their tracts. "We need to rest."
"Fine. Here," Dean bit out, throwing a key at his brother. "room seven. You should go with them, Sam, I'm sure you all wanna continue your conversation without me around." Dean didn't give anyone a chance to answer before turning toward the bathroom, the door closing and locking behind him.
"Fucking wonderful." Sam cursed, tossing Bobby the key before stalking out into the parking lot.
"You may wanna follow him before he does something stupid, Johnny."
666666666666
Sam gripped the side of his father's truck, breathing slowly, deliberately. He could feel his anger growing with each passing second, his brother's heartache coming to him in waves, even through two closed doors. Things had been going well, and while they'd stumbled several times along the way, Sam felt that he and Dean were finally mending, finally freeing themselves of the hell they'd fallen into after the Asura. And then John had broken his promise.
Sam wished there was a place for his father in their lives, he really did, but if the night's events were any indication, in was a reality that would never come to pass. John just didn't have a place in their lives anymore, didn't have a purpose. He'd trained them, molded them into soldiers. He was a drill sergeant, a leader, he wasn't a father— at least not to Sam.
Sam let the winds around him grow, let the power flow from him and feed him at the same time. He knew he should be fighting it, but he couldn't help the comfort he found in its presence. It was something familiar, something controllable in an uncontrollable world. And, it was something he could use to save Dean. For the first time in his life, Sam had the power to watch out for his brother, to give something back to the older man. He knew it was because of a demon, and he guessed now that it was making him a target, but still, Sam couldn't suppress it.
He didn't know why, but he felt stronger, like he could take down anything that dared threaten him and his family. He was not longer a pawn, no longer prey— now he could feel himself turning into one of the predators.
"Sam?" His father's voice broke through the growing torrent, broke through his reprieve, pulling him back down to earth. "I thought we talked about this. You need to suppress it."
"No, we didn't talk about it. And as I recall, you're the one that told me to embrace it."
"I didn't say that."
"No, but you told me to use it," Sam added, finally turning to face his father. "As far as I'm concerned it's the same thing. I'm not some weapon you can turn on and off when it suits you."
"Look, Sam, things are after you."
"Things have been after me my entire life."
"But an Iblis, the Emere, Sam, it's getting more and more dangerous."
"More dangerous than the Yellow Eyed Demon?"
"Yes. The Yellow Eyed Demon is like a day tripper compared to what's after you now."
"Why did you come here, Dad? I thought we agreed that you were gonna stay away."
"You're in danger."
"You're gonna need to come up with a better answer than that."
"Look, Sam, we destroyed the Iblis, but it said others were after you. It's just, I can't watch you and Dean die. I can't sit back and watch you go."
"You should get some rest. You must have had a long drive." Sam began after a few minutes, his eyes still full of the storm he'd been losing himself to.
"Sam—."
"I can't talk to you right now."
"Alright. Be careful, son."
Sam watching his father go, noticing as the older man's shoulders slumped. Sam knew he shouldn't blame him, knew he should let down his guard and let his father in, but for some reason, he couldn't. Dean was at the forefront of his mind, his brother's safety and sanity the only things he had time to worry about. When John was around, Dean was a mixture of emotions. A part of his older brother was like a little kid again, elated to have his Dad there— but another part of Dean was weighed down, falling apart, drowning beneath his father's oppressive love. And, more and more often, that was the side of Dean that surfaced when John was in the picture.
Sam could feel his older brother slipping away, could feel a rift growing, and he'd be damned if he let his battered family fall apart for a second time.
"John can be a buzz kill, can't he."
Sam spun at the icy voice, his heart rate increasing as his sharp eyes scanned the empty parking lot around him. Just as he was sure he'd imagined the voice, a set of eyes materialized feet in front of him, followed shortly by the shadowy figure of a man. If Sam didn't know any better, he'd say he was staring at an Asura, the creature before him mimicking the demon that had trapped him in many ways. But, instead of steely grey eyes, the figure before him had a blood red gaze.
"I thought they destroyed you?"
"I'm a good actor, I guess. John wanted me to be gone, I was gone. He never said anything about staying that way."
"What do you want?"
"You, Sam."
"Sorry, I don't swing that way."
"Snappy answer. Spending too much time with Dean I see."
"Leave him out of this."
"Sure thing. He's not the one I wanna talk to."
"I'm here, talk."
"Your father didn't tell you about my offer?"
"What offer?"
"Your secret's out of the bag, Sam. I'm not the only one that knows about those powers of yours. But see, I'm on your side— sort of."
"I highly doubt that."
"I wouldn't be so quick to judge, Sam. There's a war brewing."
"There's always a war brewing."
"True. Look, Sam, you have a power that's unmatched, I know you can feel it. If you learn to control it, you'd be unstoppable. Hell, at this very moment, you're shielding your brother from the supernatural world."
"Then how'd you find us?"
"I followed your fearless father. He wants the powers for himself, why do you think he came back? I mean, he stays away for this long, then, boom, he gets wind of what you can really do and comes flying back into the picture. He's looking for a weapon against the thing that killed his wife— and you're it, Sammy.
"But you see, I don't wanna use you, I wanna be partners. I can save you from this, all of this. I can put you at the top, Sam, I can help you save your brother. If you embrace it, if you let me help, I can make sure nothing evil touches your family again."