A/N: Hi everyone! First off, thanks for all the awesome reviews :) They're making my summer. And finally, no more road trips in the foreseeable future so that means I can update weekly now. Yay!!! :) Well, I can't think of anything else to post in this author's note so I bring you the next chapter.
On the road again
Sliding into the chair next to the window, Dean pushed the curtain aside slightly. He would wait here till Sam cam back, and then they were going to have a little heart to heart talk. The ticking of the clock signaled the dropping of each precious minute while the quiet breathing of its solo occupant slowed to the point where it seemed as if the man wasn't breathing at all. A deathly foreboding aura filled the room.
The hurricane was inverted. The calm core with the storm raging all around twisted itself into a dark mirror image. Outside the midnight blue night with sparkling starts brought tranquility. Yet inside, the core raged on, tainted memories swirling like a vortex over the single figure slumped in false weariness. Staring endlessly through the window, black eyes pictured tattered souls hanging from the trees as fire and ash filled the air. The stench of rot permeated everywhere. The taste of blood filled his mouth. Screams upon screams pounded against his ears. Fingers only felt ripped flesh or unyielding metal. Home was here to stay.
Waiting quietly, dressed in his regular clothes Dean sat in the pitch-black motel room. All emotions were wiped clean off his face. He didn't care anymore. Apathy was his middle name now. Sammy, his little brother and reason to keep living was turning into a demon with a drive that rivaled their fathers. It's was a shame, really it was. The kid had broken his dying wish. Yet, all Dean could think of was beating the pulp of out him and tie him to the ceiling fan and let him hang there for a couple of hours. He was tired of talking and reasoning to Sam and where did it lead him? Nowhere.
Rolling his neck, a soft crack resonated around him. Glancing down, he stared at clean youthful hands that itched and thrummed with blood. Raising his hand, Dean flicked his lighter and held it up against his fingers staring with utter fascination at the red glow outlining black veins.
"Reality is just too concrete up here," hummed the voice of a dead demon with clarity amongst the screams and begging.
A dark smile darkened the face of the hunter. Tilting his head, he ran his fingers through the flame. The golden light danced across his clouded black eyes hints of forest green flickering with coldness. The low rumbling of an engine pulled his eyes back to the window just in time to watch a slim black car drive slowly past the window. Leaning away, Dean flicked his lighter off, sliding it back into his pocket before propping his elbow on the table interlacing his fingers. Hell permeated his senses yet the shimmering anger towards his brother took center stage.
The door creaked open. Squeezing inside, Sam Winchester silently closed the door behind. He had not planned on being gone for so long but when Ruby had sliced herself, he couldn't stop himself. Buzzing filled his entire frame like a swarm of bees. Kicking off his shoes, he glanced at the clock: 2:57 in the morning. Wide-awake from the fix, Sam snuck over to his duffle bag abandoning sleep all together. He would grab his laptop; hang out in the bathroom and research into the hunt Ruby had suggested.
A small town in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan had some strange incidents occurring with electrical storms. According to the Intel Ruby gathered, Lilith might be involved up there. Reaching in, he picked up his bag and began to slide the laptop out when a click resounded spilling light into the room.
Glancing up, eyes wide, Sam took in Dean's form sitting next to the table. Legs stretched out, green eyes were drowned in disappointment. A flat voice whispered out, "Tell me at least you got our supplies."
Sam swallowed, straightening his back. "Sorry, forgot about it. Something popped up. Bobby called and gave us a hunt." The lie spilled forth with ease, no physical twitches to give away his cover.
Dean frowned, eyes narrowing. "I'm not stupid, Sam. You were with Ruby. You just couldn't wait to pounce her again, could you?"
The words rumbled deeply from Dean's mouth. Sam felt his mouth twitch as he leaned slightly in agitation. "I'm not a kid anymore, Dean."
"Then act like an adult and tell the truth. If you're going to see Ruby just say so." Pushing himself away from the chair, all it took was two measured steps till he was in Sam's face. "I thought you were kidnapped or worse."
Sam's fingers curled into fists at his side, "I can take care of myself."
"You're number one of the demon's hit list, Sam, so forgive me if I seem a bit upset that you were gone for almost four hours!" Shifting, Dean pushed past Sam, knocking the taller boy onto the bed. He needed a drink. A childlike voice was screaming for blood blinding his vision with red. Of everything he had sacrificed for his brother, Sam was still a smartass. Reaching the fridge, he grabbed a clean glass and filled it with bitter cold water. Tilting his head back, he let the searing liquid fill his core.
Behind, Sam sat quietly, fingers curling into the sheets to hold back the angry words that wanted to spill forth. The high he was on pushed for some physical reaction, a yearning to be released. Glancing at the seething form, the urge died down a bit as he tried to think where they went wrong. Dean was all fine and dandy when he left, never been happier. Then again, Sam hadn't run off without a words notice, shutting off his cell-phone in the meantime. There had been ten missed calls all from Dean as he drove back to the motel.
Lowering the glass, Dean inhaled deeply letting out his frustration in one deep exhale. Screams echoed in the background but his mind no longer screamed for blood. Shoulders sagging, Dean took in the counter watching as shapes morphed out of black smoke. Various shapes and sizes of nails and screws lined up perfectly from smallest to largest. Blood ran off the counter like water as the knives, hammers and screwdrivers glistened like new. He always cleaned up after a torture and took great care in his tools.
Eyes sliding into slits, Dean mulled over how to carry on without turning this confrontation into a bloodbath. Pushing away the urge to torture, the images faded back into nothingness. Frustration dwindled as the brother in him lost the will to be mad. He couldn't remain enraged at Sam and expect to save him at the same time. He had lied countless times to Sam in the past, so why was it a surprise that Sam was doing the same thing. Then again, Sam was dabbing into his demonic powers like a child playing with a bomb. One false press of the button and boom there would be no Sammy or Dean for that matter.
"Now careful, Dean, go nice and slow," hummed Alastair's voice, "Don't rush into things. That's the problem you know with your generation always 'give it to me now'. But some things, like wine for instance, need time." A chuckle from his master froze Dean as he practiced the etiquette of carving. Taking in the young demon's scared look like he had done something wrong, Alastair shook his head, "Wine and Blood, Dean. Wine and Blood."
A reminiscent smirk graced Dean's face as he whispered, "Wine and blood." Turning, he leaned against the counter, hands curling around the edge. Mustering a surrendered aura, Dean raised his voice into a dejected tone. "What's the hunt Ruby found for us?"
Sam's hazel eyes bounced up at him, surprise and relief brightening his features. Dean was going to hear him out for once? Instead of the vacuum of despair, the warmth of gratitude furthered his adrenaline rush. "There is some major demon activity up in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan."
Dean raised his eyebrow. "And?"
"And these demons are causing problems Dean," stressed Sam. "People are dying." Pushing for the 'innocent citizens' card, Sam held his true information close to his chest concerning Lilith. With the amount of blood he drank, in theory, Sam was ready to face the white-eyed demon and end this ridiculous war.
Dean let his gaze drop to the laptop. "I'll make us some coffee while you start researching."
Sam grabbed his computer, lifting the screen. He eyed Dean worriedly as his older brother turned around to grab two mugs. "Shouldn't you sleep?"
"Nah," Sending a smirk over his shoulder, Dean noticed for the first time ever since the whole ordeal with Alastair that he felt like his old self. Covering the battle-weary soul, that cocky, grinning loud-mouth hunter was back in full swing. And boy did it feel great to be back. "You know I can't sleep well when I'm itching to kill me some sons-of-a-bitches."
The younger Winchester grinned back, focusing back on the screen. "True."
The smell of coffee brewing filtered through the small room surrounding Sam who sat perched on his bed clicking away as Dean prepared their weapons for the fight.
-Next day-
"Thanks Bobby." Snapping his phone closed, Dean drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. The impala was parked in front of a small gas station in the rural area of Wisconsin. Around them a dense forest pocketed with ponds created a sense of utter isolation. Glancing at his clock, Dean calculated the math and figured about two more hours and they would enter be up around some town called Iron River.
Sam was inside trying to gather any useful local news tidbits when Dean had called Bobby. He had hoped the old man would have another hunt, but all the elder hunter did was condemn Dean to this hunt. Bobby's confirmation poured more salt to the gaping wound. Every sense was ringing like a fire alarm. Something was off and even in Hell; Dean learned to trust his instincts. Alastair scared him to death but as his student, Dean learned how to read the man. Other demons he saw only himself reflected off of their eyes. Ruby, she just ticked him off but he would be patient with her enjoying those times when she was pressed into situations she did not want to be in. But there was one demon that screamed wrong: Lilith.
A shiver ran down his spine as he felt the ghost of her body press against his. Her child-like laughter rang with cruelty in his head. Her white-eyes glowed with sick joy during her single visit in the Pit during his third year off the rack.
Dean finished carving into some unknown soul, making the soul scream to be let off the rack in less than five slices. Behind him, Alastair was smiling razor teeth while Lilith bounded up to him. Wrapping her arms around him, she kissed him on his bloodstained cheek.
"You're having fun here, aren't you?" quipped the powerful demon in her playful voice.
Dean turned in her embrace to lock his blackening eyes upon white. A twisted smile darkened his features as he nodded. Lilith's laughter vibrated through the chamber. Hugging him once more, she leaned forward till their lips almost touched. Purring, her voice lost its exuberance revealing the patient, ominous true character of this ancient white-eyed demon. "I love you, Dean. I owe you everything."
Tilting his head back, Dean reached out to crank up the AC/DC tape. Blaring 'TNT', he tried to drown out Lilith's words. She had known and told him thank you. And all he did after she left was to look at Alastair waiting for his approval. The chief executioner merely handed him one of his prized knives before leaving the rising demon alone with his next victim.
He was such a fool. Lost in the desire to please the man he considered a father, Dean did not question Lilith's hint at him breaking the first seal. He didn't even remember it till now. Now the only big missing part was his little resurrection.
The groaning and slamming of the passenger door pulled Dean from his memories. Glancing at Sam, he eyed the other hunter. "Well?"
Sam frowned grimily, "Nothing. The only odd thing was a bunch of traffic heading up that way. But otherwise it's all quiet up there. Except that there was some strange weather up there for awhile."
Pulling back onto the highway, Dean shifted uncomfortably.
Shooting a dark look, Sam spoke in a sarcastic tone. "What?"
"It's just that every time there's strange weather we get either an overload of demons or just one powerful one."
Sam glanced out the window, keeping the fear out of his tone. "I place my bets on the team of demons. This total isolation thing is not part of Lilith's MO."
Shaking his head, Dean sighed. "I guess." "Just please, no Lilith. I can't face her yet." His cover would be blown; Sam would try to exorcism him, Lilith would drag him back to Hell and Cas would do nothing about it. Then his little deal with himself would be for naught. If he did run into her, it would Alastair all over again. The guilt and shame would make him snap all from a false smile of innocence from a little girl's face. Then it would be back to square one and being picked on by other demons.
Tightening his grip on the wheel, Dean pressed a little harder on the gas pedal. Sam said nothing causing Dean to spare a glance to the passenger seat. The younger Winchester gazed out of the window. His young features were hardened into stone. The game face was on. Shifting back on the road, Dean pondered over how far Sam had fallen. Was it as far as him? Did he walk into willingly or blindly? And further more, if Lilith was there, would Sam try to do the same thing he did to Alastair?
Dark rage bubbled in him. A flash of the dying sunlight caught his attention. Gazing into the side mirror, Dean soaked in the bleeding black eyes. Swallowing, Dean quickly cranked down his window letting the breeze cool him down while washing away the blackness. He had no clue how far Sam's powers were and if they involved sensing other demons. But so far it seemed like Sam couldn't sense him.
Letting the wind whip all around him, Dean braced himself for the fight. For all he knew, he might recognize a few of the demons either by torturing them or bypassing them in Hell. With no Alastair to protect him, things could go south in a second. Then again, Dean grinned slightly, he was different now. No longer was he the broken, post-traumatic stress hunter nor was he the powerless little demon yearning for home. Nope. He was back to being one-hundred percent, Hell bound, born and hardened cocky Dean Winchester.
"You have not disappointed me." Alastiar's praise sharpened his mind into clarity like a taunt wire.
"Something on your mind?" Sam's voice pulled the grin wider.
"Thinking about all those sons-of-bitches I'm gonna be killing." When Sam didn't reply, Dean shot him a light-hearted glance. "Just like the old days."
Sam let out a short chuckle, a smile brightening his own face. "Yeah except no crazy antics like we pulled back at the police station."
Scoffing, Dean put on an innocent expression, "Crazy, psh, Sam that was pure genius. You're just still upset cause you didn't come up with it college boy."
The roar of the Impala speeding up drowned out Sam's weak comeback. Kicking up dirt, the sleek black car spun off down the desolate back-country highway the last rays of the sun licking like Hell's fire at its' tires.
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A/N: Oh man, writing demon!Dean is just too much fun and things are just getting started. Well, stay tuned for next week's chapter! Take care.