"Dean, come on, man, I wouldn't go if I wasn't ok." To prove his point Sam swung his arms around, and did a few deep knee bends.
Dean really hated when Sam whined. "Don't whine."
"Not whining."
"Yes, you are."
"Not."
"And now you're acting like you're two." He knew that would shut Sam up in a huff. Actually what it did was get him an eye roll, which annoyed Dean almost as much as the whining.
The tartum nest had been located, luckily there'd been no more deaths, but it was only a matter of time. Dante and Concha were certainly capable of dealing with the snarly little creatures on their own, they'd done so several times in their past, having grown up in this area. Dean didn't feel right about that. Two more on the hunt would make it go that much easier and faster. Not totally convinced Sam should be out there, or was Dean being what Sam accused him of being, over protective? Probably, he had to admit, but only to himself. Leaving Sam behind, if he'd actually get away with that, which he highly doubted, wasn't an option anyway. Not that either would admit it to the other, but they'd both been shaken by how easily Sam had been found here and snatched.
Sam, the annoying little twit, would just stand there looking at him with his damn infernal 'you're my big brother and nothing will hurt me with you around' look he was just so good at. Dean hated that look too. Well, maybe not so much, not that he'd admit it out loud, ever. Sam, he thought, sometimes just had way too much faith in him. The honest truth, Dean knew, was there was no reason for them not to go. Sam was fine, a bit sore, but otherwise fine. Dean really didn't have a solid argument to fall back on; other than he didn't like it, had a bad feeling. And that was the fastest way to get Sam to disagree with him.
"Dean?"
Dean sighed heavily. Even now, after all this time he was somewhat amazed Sam needed his permission, or blessing or whatever. He wondered if he'd said no, just what would happen. But he couldn't say no and be honest about it. "Ok, Sammy, fine. But—"
"I know," Sam waved one hand in the air, chanting, "stay in sight, stay close, be careful."
"As long as we're clear on that."
"We are." Sam said softly.
As it turned out Dean wanted to solidly kick himself for not following his original instincts, Sam neither stayed close, nor was too terribly careful. He should have known.
After another crash course in tartum hunting, this time from Dante, they went on foot to an area less than a quarter mile from the nest. They walked across a clearing, aware of every movement in the woods beyond.
"Have we been here before?" Sam stopped, turned in a circle, then faced Dean.
"No, I don't think so."
"Looks familiar."
Dean's mouth was open to ask if it was the clearing of Sam's vision months ago when the walkie-talkie they each carried cracked to life. "Coming at ya!" It was Concha's voice. The next instant something small, vicious burst out of the woods at the far end of the clearing. A second one came out closer to where the brothers stood.
"I'll get that one," Sam pointed to the farther tartum cub…spawn….whatever…."You get the other two!" He sprinted to the opposite end of the clearing before Dean could say a word, stop him.
Swearing under his breath Dean turned, the tartums flickered into and out of his vision. The younger ones apparently able to stay invisible longer than the adults. Horses crashed through the woods, into the clearing, their breath blowing lead trails of steam in the cool, autumn air. Concha, on Orion, was in the lead, but she pulled the horse back allowing Dante, on BJ, to overtake her. For a few brief seconds the two horses appeared as one with eight legs until BJ moved slightly ahead. Reins in one hand, Dante took aim, firing. One young tartum squawked, flipping over on itself a few times before landing, dead in the tall grass of the clearing.
The one Sam chased doubled back, heading straight for the riders. It flickered out of sight. Dean stopped, breathing hard, watching, waiting. He saw a flicker, it had turned again, this time heading back to Sam. The third one flashed in from Dean's right, coming at him, airborne. Dean spun, out of reflex more than anything, brought his pistol up and fired. The tartum bit the dust, like its littermate rolling and screeching for a few feet before dying.
Dean's heart leapt to his mouth when he saw the third tartum bear down on Sam. Sam who was standing there, stiffened, not preparing to take the weight of the thing launching at him, attacking him. Dean could tell by his brother's body language Sam's eyes probably weren't too focused. Then the tell tail sign, Sam half ducked, one hand pressing between his eyebrows.
"Shit. Goddamn. Not a good time for a vision Sammy!"
He was too far away. He'd never reach Sam before the tartum munched his brother to pieces. And whether or not Sam would be able to fend off the thing Dean didn't know. He started to run. Dante fired at the tartum, but it winked out of sight the briefest second before, and he missed. Concha had dropped back farther, which gave her a much better view of the entire clearing, and the situation.
She turned the horse, now coming at Dean at a hard gallop. It seemed Dean would owe her yet again. Horses could outrun a tartum he remembered.
OOOOOOOOO
The look on Dean's face was some mixture of panic and horror. Concha tried to figure out just what the hell Sam was doing, standing there, watching the tartum come at him, intending to make a meal of him when realization spread through her. He was having a vision. Which wasn't good. Dean changed direction, running full bore at Sam.
He'd never make it in time.
Concha pulled Orion up, changing direction, then giving him his head, the horse went at Dean full speed. When she was close, she turned the horse so he was alongside Dean.
Holding out one arm, "Dean!" She slowed the horse's pace to match the man's.
He understood her intention. Grabbing her forearm with a powerful grip Dean bounced a few steps beside the horse, leapt up, pulling himself against her arm and swung onto the horse behind her.
"Get me there."
The raw emotion in his voice startled Concha, though it shouldn't have. She'd seen almost from the first how close these two brothers were, that the only thing which could truly frighten Dean was the threat of losing Sam.
Glancing back briefly, then attention forward again, "hang on!"
"To what?!" Dean's hands were lightly on her waist.
"To me!" Concha leaned forward just a bit, Orion charged ahead. "Push all your weight into your heels."
When Orion hit full speed, Dean's weight was thrown back, and he almost fell off. His arms snaked around her middle, holding on tight now. The horse and tartum raced, neck and neck across the clearing. Concha considered getting Dean's pistol and taking a shot at the tartum. She knew he probably couldn't hit it while on the moving horse, but it was something she'd practiced, she could. However, that would involve slowing down a bit. She opted for speed. They reached Sam mere seconds before the tartum. Slowing Orion just enough for Dean to jump down, she circled around Sam to slow down even more, and hoping to distract the tartum.
Dean hit the ground running, stumbled from sheer momentum he wasn't ready for, hit the ground, rolled up the next second and got himself between Sam and the attacking tartum with barely the time to pull his pistol up and fire. The dead tartum hit Dean's chest, sending him back, staggering into Sam. The two of them landed in a heap, Dean shoved Sam down completely, covering his brother with his own body, firing at the tartum again, being sure it was dead.
"Sam, come on. Talk to me." Dean pulled Sam up, bracing his brother against his shoulder.
Dante brought the other horse to an abrupt stop beside them; he dropped to the ground, helping Dean wrestle Sam to his feet. "That should be all of them. We'll know in a day or two if we missed any, but couldn't find more." Dante said, mostly to Dean.
It seemed to Concha they all had the same thought at the same time. Sam straightened, grabbing at Dean's jacket collar, tugging on him, gasping out his brother's name. Dante's eyes met Concha's, then Dean's. Dean and Dante looked around. Concha turned Orion in a circle, feeling as if they weren't the only presence there.
"Dean!" Sam's shout made Concha jump. His voice sounded funny, not just from the pain, but something else, something that made Dean focus completely and immediately on his sibling. She followed the line of his free hand as it extended out.
"What? What is it?" Dean said, cupping Sam's chin so he looked at Dean. Concha could hear the frustration and twinge of fear in Dean's voice.
Dante now focused as much on Sam as Dean, neither of them paying much attention to Concha. Concha was paying attention to someone…..something….just inside the tree line.
Sam had realized, almost immediately, this is what might happen. They'd tried to plan for this contingency, she and Sam, but no plan was found. Concha realized Sam hadn't bothered to fill Dean in on this part. Sam's visions were connected to the demon, when Sparky decided to appear it was logical to think a vision would appear too. Sam's visions had the annoying habit of incapacitating him pretty thoroughly. That was a problem, since it was Sam who needed to recite the incantation, while Concha trapped the demon. She hadn't really figured out how she was supposed to trap it. Sam had memorized the incantation, but he wasn't exactly in reciting shape right then. Concha needed to buy them some time. Dean needed a few minutes to get Sam into position and coherent enough to do what he needed to do. Problem was, neither she nor Sam had told their older brothers those details. Both had done so for the same reason she was sure. Because neither Dean nor Dante would agree to anything had they known. Not that any of them really had a choice she could now see.
Nudging Orion with both heels made the horse lurch forward, closer to BJ. She slapped BJ's rump as hard as she could with the flat of her hand, shouting at him. The horse did exactly as she expected, bolted away.
"What the hell did you do that for?" Dean jerked around to watch the other horse run off.
Spinning Orion around so his haunches connect squarely with Dean's chest, sending him sprawling on the ground, and Sam staggering after, trying to catch him, Concha yelled, "I can buy you maybe five minutes." She pointed to the tree line. All three men looked, she could tell by their expressions they saw what she'd seen.
Concha spurred Orion forward to a full gallop. She crossed the clearing in less than a minute, not even stopping the horse completely before jumping from his back. A slap to his hind quarters kept him going, galloping away from her, and the shadowy figure just inside the trees. She stood and stared at it. It stared back. She didn't want to go into the trees, somehow feeling safer out in the open. Yeah, cause arm wrestling demons was so safe. There were great, big, gaping holes in the plan she and Sam, mostly Sam had devised, but neither could find solutions to those problems. While she was quite good at gathering the information, and a master at being bait, she discovered Sam was much better at putting together working plans, especially of this sort. Part of their plan required her to follow Sam's voice, as he recited the incantation, to the right spot between Dante and Dean. The four of them formed the trap. As she stood considering this, and the thing, demon, in front of her it all of a sudden came to her how she'd hold the demon.
Her barriers.
She'd have to get the thing close enough to her to encircle it within her barriers, lead it to the preordained position among the men. But at the moment the demon wasn't moving and Sam wasn't talking. Wishing she hadn't called attention to the fact it was right here, we're not ready, she stole a glance back at the men. Too late now, if she'd kept her mouth shut Sam wouldn't have been able to tell his brother and hers the demon had been right there until it was gone. Probably. Maybe. Maybe it wouldn't have left, and attacked them anyway. Maybe this was giving her a headache and getting her nowhere.
Maybe she should stop talking to herself and actually do something about the demon who no doubt knew she was right there.
Taking a few deep breaths she tried to clear her mind. Be a target, be a victim, want to be possessed. It coalesced into a shape, a man. A man she'd find physically attractive, tall, lithe, deep dark pools for eyes…..demons were tricky bastards. He smiled, innocent and sexy all at once. He stepped closer to her, just away from the trees.
Come get me….get me. Was her silent plea to the demon. Take me. She backed up another step and stopped. They were behind her, she knew it, she could feel them. They were setting the trap.
The demon stalked a small circle around her, she could feel how he looked her up and down. She turned only her head, to watch him, and in doing so caught a glimpse of the three men. Dante looked like she'd never seen him look before. Terrified. Not because of the demon, or for himself she knew, but for her. Dean's face was more surprised, maybe a bit of horror. Sam's face she couldn't see, he was kneeling, head bent down, bangs covering his eyes, but she could see his lips moving. Dean stood next to him, one hand on Sam's shoulder.
Then bless his heart, Dean started to talk. Sam could barely whisper the incantation, so Concha couldn't follow his voice. But nothing was stopping Dean from talking, and did he ever. He'd been in and out of the room the day she and Sam carved the symbols, worked on their plan. Dean, she realized with sudden clarity knew a whole lot more than he'd let on.
"Sam, stay right there, keep reciting, you keep it going Sammy, don't stop. I'll just be over here. Stay put Sam, I'm going right over here, just like I should."
Concha focused on Dean's voice, he kept it up, talking to her through Sam, telling Sam every move he was making. She followed his voice, she could tell where he moved, when he was in position because his voice stopped moving. Then he started on Dante, who answered immediately, understanding what Dean was doing.
The demon gave up its shape, returning to its natural form of black, grainy mist. It flowed around her, not quite touching, but swarming all around. She had the definite impression it was sniffing at her. It pulled back, regrouping to a smaller, tighter form of black, then stretched out again, to her, circling, almost settling in her hair, on her shoulders, but pulling back.
It couldn't get in. And wouldn't stay close enough. Did it know? Each time it got close enough and she tried to erect her barriers around them both the demon would slink away. Not leave, it wanted her.
Maximum destruction. Minimum effort.
Concha's hand reached to her neck. Her fingers curled around the silver chain holding the symbol Sam had made for her. The symbol helping to prevent the demon from possessing her.
Sam's head snapped up. "No! Nonononononono……!!!"
Concha pulled the necklace over her head, holding it in one hand, arm extended. No resistance. She stared straight at the demon. Both arms out and up.
"Sam incantation!" Dean shouted. She caught a glimpse of Dean's outstretched hand, motioning Dante to stay in place.
Concha's fingers opened. The necklace fluttered to the ground.
The black mist flowed straight at her, like some sort of hellish tidal wave. This was gonna hurt like a bitch! The collision made her gasp, then clench her teeth, refusing to scream, sending her to her knees.
The world erupted in flames.
OOOOOOOOO
Dean was torn, but ultimately picked Sam first. Crossing the short distance between himself and his brother, sliding down beside Sam, he grabbed Sam's shoulder, shaking him until Sam looked at him, focused on him, still whispering the incantation.
"Keep going Sam, don't stop! And you stay there, whatever happens you have to promise me you'll stay right here till I come get you." Another shake, rougher than he'd intended, to Sam's shoulder. Sam's eyes met his, hand coming up and fingers briefly curing around Dean's wrist before he nodded. "Good boy." Dean patted Sam's shoulder, on his feet, running in the next instant.
His current to-do list, stop Dante from going into the fire and burning, stop Concha from burning by getting her out of the fire, and oh, yeah, kill a demon. Eh, just a regular day, piece of cake. The whole trap plan had sort of gone to hell, almost literally, when the damn demon swirled around Concha, then ignited and Dante took off after his sister. Not that Dean blamed him, he'd have done the same for Sam.
Catching up to Dante just before the man went headlong into flames, Dean tackled him, both of them landing in a tangled heap on the ground. The second they were both on their feet Dean had Dante firmly by the shoulders, blocking him. Years of restraining and handling the bulldozer that was his brother when pissed off at their father paid off. Dante couldn't get passed him.
Dante, seeing he couldn't fight Dean off so easily, shouted at him. "She's burning!"
"No! Stop! The trap, we have to reform the trap, that's what will get her out!" Dean pointed to the fire, "look….look…there's a break in the flames. And you've reached her before, in here…" Dean's hand tapped his own head with one finger. "Make the trap, and do it again."
Dean wasn't quite sure what coursed between he and Dante at that moment, something unspoken was all he knew for sure. He let go, and they both ran, away from each other, to their positions. Dean closer to Sam, Dante nearer Concha.
OOOOOOOOO
Concha heard far too many voices in her head. There was hers, and Sam's which was interesting that she could plainly hear his constant reciting of the incantation. There was It, demanding she sink away, let go. Finally there was the loudest, strongest voice. Dante.
On hands and knees, Concha faced a decision, let go, or fight. She coughed, it was smoky, hot, fire all around.
Dante's voice. He demanded she listen to him, only him, trust him as she always had. He'd get her out. He told her what to do. Live! LIVE! He demanded, challenged, begged.
So she did.
OOOOOOOOO
Dean barely had time to collect his thoughts when the small, clear bubble containing Concha ignited, and exploded away from her. Flames shot in all directions. The force of the explosion impacted him, knocking him several feet. He caught sight of Dante being blown backwards as well. Instinctively Dean rolled to his side, struggling up, looking for Sam at the same time.
His heart nearly stopped beating when the black cloud seared from Concha across the short expanse straight at Sam. Flames and demon hit Sam's chest, flinging him farther away. Sam managed to get to his feet for the briefest second before crumpling to the ground. Horrified Dean watched as black soot and flames swirled around his brother, at times completely obliterating him from view. Screeching from the demon mingled with screaming sirens. Dean staggered to his feet, running faster than he thought he could at Sam, and the demon.
Catching Sam around the chest, Dean wrapped both arms around his brother and rolled, all the while inventing some new swear words. His befuddled brain finally registered what was happening. Concha had tossed away her protection symbol, none of them had. The demon could only swirl around Sam, and his human shield Dean, screeching. When Dean rolled Sam away, putting out the flames lapping his brother's clothes the demon flung itself away, disappearing along the horizon.
Dante pulled Concha from the remnants of her protective bubble before the flames closed in. Dean wasn't sure when fire trucks, and helicopters and paramedics showed up, but they had. Concha was laid flat on the ground, all sorts of people swarmed around her.
Dean rolled up, sitting, still holding Sam. He pulled his brother against his chest, one arm across Sam's chest, the other bent so his hand rested on his head, which was on Dean's shoulder.
"Dean?" Sam barely whispered.
In response Dean's arms tightened, "here."
"We get the demon?" Sam's hands hooked around Dean's forearm.
"I think we're gonna have to call this one a draw kiddo."
Dean watched, chin against Sam's head, as Concha was loaded onto a stretcher, then into a helicopter. Water was being sprayed along the line of flames. He met Dante's eyes briefly, nodding, just before Dante climbed into the helicopter after his sister. Dean then bluntly told a paramedic he was afraid of flying and not getting in any helicopter. If the guy thought he was putting Sam in one he could just pick his head up on the far side of the clearing after Dean removed it from his shoulders. The medics decided Dean and Sam were fit enough to ride to the hospital in an ambulance.
Dean got them out of the way, waiting patiently for the ambulance, and held tight to his anchor that was his brother Sam.