"I think I know what Meg meant by Sunrise," Dean told his siblings, gesturing towards the end of the street that they were driving on. Sam and Rosie turned to look in the direction he had pointed, finding an apartment building with a sign that read: "Sunrise Apartments."
After they had expelled the demon from Meg's body, the girl had managed to tell them that John was somewhere in a place called Sunrise. Before they could find out what that even meant, the damage that the demon had inflicted on the Meg's body had already taken it's toll ...
With what little information they had, it was a miracle that Dean had been able to lead them to the right place. Unfortunately, that place turned out to be huge ... not to mention full of people. People that Meg's little demon friends could use as vessels, or worse human shields. If they were going to save their father, they were going to need a damn good plan:
"This is the fire department! We're gonna need you to evacuate," Dean banged on the door, dressed in full firefighter gear. They had pulled the fire alarm in order to get everyone out of the building, trying to avoid as much collateral damage as possible. Sam had joined Dean, checking the rooms for their dad, while Rosie had stayed outside to keep an eye on everything.
After banging on the door a couple more times, it opened and Sam and Dean were met by a young woman. As soon as she laid eyes on them, her eyes turned black. Yep, they were definitely in the right room. Dean pushed his way past the demon, blasting her with the holy water that he'd put in his water tank.
No doubt alerted by all of the commotion, a second demon stormed in from the bedroom. Dean instantly knocked him out, shoving him into a closet. "Come on!" Sam growled at the first demon, shoving her in after her friend.
Dean had to throw his entire bodyweight into the door, trying to contain the demons as they fought against him. "Hurry up!" he told his brother as the door lurched forward violently. Sam quickly grabbed a canister of salt from their duffle bag, running a line of it in front of the closet door. Almost instantly, the banging stopped.
After taking off their fireman gear, Sam and Dean quietly moved towards the bedroom door, almost afraid of what they'd find when they opened it. Dean looked over at his brother, waiting for the go-ahead. Sam took a deep breath, preparing himself for the worst, before giving Dean a nod.
"Dad?" Dean called as he slowly opened the door, half expecting another demon to come out at him. "Dad!" he repeated, running into the room as soon as he noticed John laying on the bed. He rushed over to his father's side, leaning down over him to make sure he was alive and well.
"He's still breathing," he told his brother, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. All in all, John didn't look to be in too bad a shape, but the fact that he was still unconscious definitely bothered Dean. "Dad, wake up," he shook his father. "Dad!"
"Hey," Rosie greeted her brothers, climbing in through the window, oblivious to their distress. She had spotted their silhouettes moving around behind the blinds, and figured that they had found the right apartment. "Everything looks OK out there, I don't think - " she started to tell them, stopping dead in her tracks as she realized that something was wrong. "Dad!" she cried, rushing over to the bed, kneeling down to help Dean, who had started to cut the ropes off of John's legs.
"Wait!" Sam interrupted them, looking down his father's body with a curious expression.
"What?" Dean snapped, looking up at his brother.
"He could be possessed for all we know," Sam told them, surprised by Dean's carelessness. If anything, his brother was always thorough - playing it safe - when it came to demons. Now, with their family involved, he had expected a little more caution.
"What, are you nuts?" Dean growled, bringing the knife back up to the ropes.
"Dean, we've got to be sure," Sam tried to convince him.
"Sam's right," Rosie sighed, looking down at her father. She gently pulled Dean's arm back, taking the knife from his grip with an apologetic smile. "We don't know what happened. It won't hurt to check."
Sam took a flask of holy water out of the duffle bag, lightly sprinkling some onto his father. Much to his, and no doubt Dean and Rosie's relief, it didn't seem to have any effect. Except ... "Sam?" John opened his eyes, squinting up at his son. "Why are you splashing water on me?"
"Dad, are you okay?" Dean asked, ignoring his father's question. He picked his knife back up, starting to work on the ropes that were holding John's ankles together. Rosie, meanwhile, untied the ones around his wrists.
"They've been drugging me," John explained, nervously glancing around the room as he tried to sit up. "Where's the colt?" he asked, rubbing at the skin round his wrists where the ropes had left deep, sore looking indentations.
"Don't worry, Dad," Sam told him. "It's safe."
"Good," John nodded, watching Dean cut through the final knot at his feet. "Good."
Now that John was finally free to move, they had to get him out of the room. After being drugged, though, he was hardly able to walk. Sam and Dean had to hold him up, each taking one of his shoulders as they practically carried him out.
Suddenly, before they realized what was happening the front door burst open, a fireman storming into the room. He was followed by a second man, sans fireman gear, and together they rounded in on the four of them. "Go!" Sam yelled as he watched their eyes turn black, pushing John into Rosie's arms. "Go!"
"Back!" Dean shouted, pushing them backwards into the bedroom. Sam closed and locked the door behind them, instructing Rosie to take John down the fire escape. Just as she managed to get her father's body out through the window, an axe slammed through the door, prompting her to follow suit.
Dean ran over to help his sister while Sam grabbed the salt canister, running a line along the bedroom door, hoping to buy them a little more time. "Sam, let's go!" Dean yelled climbing out onto the fire escape. Sam tossed him the duffle bag, and climbed out after his brother, running another line of salt along the window sill for good measure.
...
"How is he?" Sam asked looking up from where he was - once again - running a line of salt along a window sill. After they'd climbed down Sunrise's fire escape, he had gotten attacked by yet another demon. He was trying to make sure it didn't happen again. Especially now that both him and his father were injured.
"He just needs a little rest, that's all. Rosie's keeping an eye on him," Dean told him, sitting down on the couch. "How are you?" he asked, taking a good look at his brother's face. He was a mess - bruised, bloody, and swollen.
"I'll survive," Sam nodded, subconsciously running a hand along his busted lip. "You don't think we were followed here, do you?" he asked, looking over and making sure that he had completely covered all of the entries to the cabin in salt. He was still worried that they'd get another surprise visit.
"I don't know. I don't think so," Dean shook his head, looking out of the window. Miles and miles of forest surrounded the cabin, trees shielding them in every direction. "I mean, we couldn't have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up."
"You can say that again," Rosie chuckled, walking into the room. "Dad's asleep," she told them, walking past them into the little kitchenette area. "I'm gonna make some tea, you guys want some? I'm pretty sure there's some beer in the fridge. I can make some coffee, too, if you - "
"We're fine," Sam cut her off, a small smile on his face.
Rosie nodded, her eyes on the bruises that littered her brother's face. She sighed, her hands itching to stitch up his lip. Instead, she grabbed kettle and walked over to the sink. She made sure to make as little noise as possible as she made her tea, trying to listen in on her brothers' conversation.
"Dean, you, um," Sam turned to his brother, trying to find the right words to say. Images of the demon that had attacked him kept flashing through his mind. Dean hadn't hesitated for a second, grabbing the colt and shooting it right between the eyes. "You saved my life back there."
"So, I guess you're glad I brought the gun, huh?" Dean joked. He vividly remembered how much Sam had protested when he had mentioned bringing the colt along on their little rescue mission.
"Man, I'm trying to thank you here," Sam chuckled.
"You're welcome," Dean nodded.
They sat in comfortable silence for a little while, lost in their own thoughts, until the whistle of the tea kettle made both of their heads snap up. Sam got up from his seat and started walking towards the kitchen, suddenly very thirsty.
"Hey, Sam?" Dean called, stopping him in his tracks. Hearing his sister's footsteps approaching them, he hesitated slightly before he continued: "You know that guy I shot ... there was a person in there."
"Dean," Rosie sighed, sitting down next to him. She handed him a beer that she'd grabbed from the fridge, setting her tea down on the table in front of them. "Don't beat yourself up over this," she told him, gesturing for Sam to move along and go get himself something to drink. "You didn't have a choice. It was him or Sam."
"Yeah, I know. That's not what bothers me," Dean told her, taking a sip of his beer. He sighed, setting the bottle down on the table. "It's just," he continued, "killing that guy, killing Meg ... I didn't hesitate, I didn't even flinch."
"Dean," Rosie repeated, giving him a stern look.
"No, let me finish," Dean told her, mirroring her expression. "It's just," he tried to explain, rubbing the back of his head. "You guys, or dad ... the things I'm willing to do, or kill. It scares me sometimes."
Sam walked back into the room, holding a beer of his own. He sat down on the table in front of them, careful not to knock over Rosie's tea. Having overheard Dean's little speech, he wasn't sure what to say, and apparently, neither was his sister.
"It shouldn't," John broke the silence, walking into the room. It seemed like his little nap had done him a lot of good. He was no longer limping, and the color had returned to his face. "You did good."
"You're not mad?" Dean asked him, raising an eyebrow.
"For what?" John asked.
" ... using a bullet," Dean told him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which, to him, it probably was. If he knew his father - an he did - wasting one of the colt's bullets was a big deal.
"Mad?" John chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm proud of you. You know, I can get pretty obsessed. But you - " he paused, looking down at Dean. "You watch out for this family. You always have."
"Thanks," Dean nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn't remember the last time his dad had told him he was proud of him. However, before he could fully process his father's words, the wind suddenly picked up and the lights began to flicker.
All too familiar with those flickering lights, Dean, Sam, and Rosie instantly rushed over to the window to check out their surroundings. Thankfully, aside from the storm that seemed to be brewing, nothing seemed out of order. But then ... why would a demon make it that easy? It wouldn't: "It found us. It's here," John told them, confirming their suspicions. "Sam, Rosie, lines of salt in front of every window, every door."
"I already did it," Sam told him.
"Well, check it, okay?" John barked, rushing over to Dean.
"Okay," Sam nodded, dutifully walking into the bedroom. Instead of following him, Rosie rushed back towards the kitchen, where she could keep an eye - or rather, an ear - on Dean and her dad. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something was off.
"Dean, you got the gun?" John asked.
"Yeah," Dean nodded, patting the waistband of his jeans where he'd stuffed the colt.
"Give it to me," John ordered.
"Dad," Dean shook his head, reluctantly pulling the colt out from its hiding place. He wasn't going to hand it over just yet. "Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation," he explained. "It disappeared."
"This is me. I won't miss," John growled. "Now, the gun, hurry."
Rosie watched with bated breath as Dean moved the colt around in his hands, seemingly debating on whether he should hand it over or not. His reluctance made her even more wary. Dean wasn't one to ignore their father's orders. He could feel it too ... something was off.
"Son, please," John pleaded.
Dean shook his head, backing up a few steps, and Rosie found herself subconsciously moving towards him. As soon as she realized what she was doing, she took a step back, making sure to stay out of sight. She wanted to asses the situation, making sure she knew exactly what was going on before she made a move.
"Give me the gun," John repeated. "What are you doing, Dean?"
"He'd be furious," Dean laughed mirthlessly, looking down at the floor.
"What?" John chuckled, clearly confused.
" - that I wasted a bullet," Dean snapped, looking back up at his father. He tightened his grip on the colt, trying to get a hold of his anger. "He wouldn't be proud of me," he continued, his voice shaking. "He'd tear me a new one."
Rosie immediately realized what Dean was thinking. Hell, she was starting to think it herself. Still, she stepped into the living room to stop her brother from making any rushed decisions. After all, her father's life was on the line.
Dean's jaw was clenched as he weighed his options, debating on what to do next. He briefly glanced back at his sister. Sensing her wariness, he raised the gun, pointing it straight at his father. "You're not my dad," he growled, cocking the gun.
"Dean, it's me," John tried to convince him. "Rosie, tell him."
Rosie swallowed hard, looking back and forth between her father and brother. It wasn't like her not to follow her father's orders, but this time she just couldn't. She knew in her heart that Dean was right: "I know my dad better than anyone, and you ain't him," he snapped.
"What the hell's gotten into you?" John shook his head.
"I could ask you the same thing," Dean bit back.
"Dean?" Sam asked, walking back into the room. He was shocked to see his brother pointing the colt at their dad, and wondered what had happened between the two of them while he'd been in the bedroom. "What the hell's going on?"
"Your brother has lost his mind," John told him.
"No, he hasn't," Rosie snapped. "He's not our dad."
"What?" Sam laughed nervously, looking back and forth between Dean and Rosie.
"I think he's possessed," Dean explained. By now, his hands were shaking almost as badly as his voice. He clutched the gun so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. "I think he's been possessed since we rescued him."
"Don't listen to them, Sammy," John pleaded.
"Dean, how do you know?" Sam asked, giving his father the benefit of the doubt.
"He's - " Dean paused, fighting back tears. "He's different."
"You know, we don't have time for this," John snapped, taking back control of the situation. He wasn't just in drill sergeant mode. He was on edge, and Sam couldn't quite tell whether it was because of the danger that loomed over them, or because he was a danger to them."Sam," John turned to him. "You want to kill this demon, you've got to trust me."
Sam looked back at his dad, trying to decide whether he could trust him or not. He could feel Dean's eyes on him, as well as Rosie's, silently begging him to come to them. Every fiber in his being told him to listen, but he so desperately wanted to find - and kill - the thing that had killed Jess.
"Sam?" John prompted him.
"Sam!" Rosie cried. She couldn't believe that her brother would even consider choosing their dad's side. He'd never listened to the man before ... Why start now? Much to her relief, he seemed to come to his senses rather quickly, confidently walking over to stand between her and Dean.
"Fine," John chuckled. "If you're so sure, go ahead. Kill me."
He looked down at the floor, waiting for a bullet to hit him ... but it never did. Dean couldn't pull the trigger. He couldn't, in good conscience, shoot his father. Even if that meant killing the demon that had possessed him. Everything he did was to protect his family. Unfortunately, this demon had picked up on that.
"I thought so," John looked back up, his eyes yellow.
While Dean was still unable to pull the trigger, even now that the demon had so evidently taken over his father's body, Sam lunged forward to attack. He was thrown back against the wall before he could do any damage, however, Dean and Rosie following suit.
Rosie hissed in pain as she crashed into lamp, the glass cutting into her back. Blood seeped through her shirt, and her first instinct was to push herself away from the wall and apply pressure to the wound, but she soon found that she was held there by some invisible force.
Over on her left, Sam was also trying to get free. On her right, Dean was trying to get to the colt, which he had dropped when he was slammed into the wall. "What a pain in the ass this thing's been," John - or rather, the demon - shook his head as he picked up the gun.
"It's you, isn't it?" Sam huffed, staring at the yellow eyed demon in disbelief. Jessica's killer - his mother's killer - had been right in front of him this whole time, and he hadn't even realized. "We've been looking for you for a long time."
"Well, you found me," Yellow Eyes smiled, throwing his arms out to the side.
" ... but the holy water?" Sam asked, dumbfounded by the notion that holy water wasn't a full proof demon detection method. Dean and Rosie were equally stunned, looking over at the demon for an answer.
"You think something like that works on something like me?" Yellow Eyes laughed. He tried get his point across by tightening his hold on them to the point where Rosie had to grit her teeth in order not to scream.
"I'm gonna kill you!" Sam threatened, trying to push himself away from the wall.
"Oh, that'd be a neat trick. In fact - " Yellow Eyes put the colt down on the table, taking a few steps back, his hands falling to his side, " - here. Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy," he taunted, knowing full well that Sam wouldn't be able to do it.
Sam looked down at the colt, determined to prove the demon wrong. His face scrunched up in concentration as he tried to get it to move. After a few seconds, he realized that nothing was going to happen. His face fell with disappointment as he gave up, essentially letting Yellow Eyes win.
"Well, this is fun," the demon chuckled, walking over to Dean. "I could've killed you a hundred times today, but this - This is worth the wait. Your dad - He's in here with me, trapped inside his own meat suit. He says 'hi,' by the way." His smile shifted from amused to downright menacing, before he continued: "He's gonna tear you apart," he growled. "He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."
"Let him go, or I swear to God - " Dean threatened, his voice shaking with anger.
"What? What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice," he spat, turning to Rosie. "You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter - "
"Dad, if you're in there," Rosie interrupted him. "Please."
" - the one in the alley? That was my boy," he told Sam, getting a little too close for comfort. "You understand?" he asked after a moment of silence, looking straight at Dean as he tried to bring home his message.
"You've got to be kidding me," Dean scoffed.
"What?" Yellow Eyes raised an eyebrow, rounding in on Dean. "You're the only one that can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family? Oh, that's right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don't make a right."
"You son of a bitch," Dean growled, trying to break free as the demon turned his attention back to Sam. Coming after him was one thing, but him going after his brother was another. This demon had already killed his mother and possessed his father, but he sure as hell wasn't going to hurt any more of his family.
"I want to know why," Sam told the demon. "Why'd you do it?"
"You mean why did I kill mommy, and pretty, little Jess?" Yellow Eyes taunted him.
"Yeah," Sam spat, rising to the bait.
"You know, he never told you this," he turned to Dean, completely ignoring Sam's question, "but Sam was going to ask her to marry him ... been shopping for rings and everything." He paused for a second, but when Dean didn't give him the reaction that he wanted, he turned back to Sam: "You want to know why?" he asked. "Because they got in the way!"
"In the way of what?" Sam asked.
"My plans for you, Sammy," Yellow Eyes explained. "You - and all the children like you."
Rosie briefly wondered whether that included her. Her abilities had started showing not long after Sam's, and although they were very different in nature, she knew that didn't necessarily mean anything. Her mind instantly flashed back to Max and his telekinetic powers. His abilities had definitely been different - stronger too - but they had also started to show around the same time. However, Yellow Eyes didn't seem at all interested in her, focusing solely on her brothers.
"Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? I really can't stand the monologue-ing." Dean snapped, interrupting her thought process. His little outburst had managed to turn Yellow Eyes' attention away from Sam, and onto himself.
"Funny," the demon chuckled, walking over to him, getting up close and personal. "But that's all part of your M.O., isn't it?" he asked, staring him down." Masks all that nasty pain. Masks the truth."
"Oh, yeah?" Dean scoffed, glaring at the demon. "What's that?"
"You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don't need you. Not like you need them," Yellow Eyes told him. "Sam - He's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you. Rosie - Caleb was more of a brother to her than you ever were."
"That's not true!" Rosie protested.
"I bet you're real proud of your kids, too, huh?" Dean chuckled mirthlessly. "Oh wait, I forgot," he smiled down at de demon, not breaking eye contact for one second, "I wasted 'em."
Rosie held her breath as Yellow Eyes took a step back. He let his head fall down onto his chest as a humorless laugh escaped him. That couldn't be good ... "Dean!" she yelled, as her brother suddenly started to scream in pain. "No!"
"Dad!" Dean pleaded, blood soaking his shirt. "Dad, don't you let it kill me!"
Yellow Eyes simply looked up at him, smiling as he continued to scream in pain. By now, blood was flowing freely from Dean's nose and mouth, running down his chin in a steady stream. He was struggling to catch his breath. "Dad, please," he whimpered, his body going limp, slumping down against the wall as he passed out.
"Dean!" Sam and Rosie yelled simultaneously, struggling to break free.
"Stop," John whispered suddenly. "Stop it."
Sam and Rosie were finally able to move as their father found the strength to fight back against the demon inside of him. Yellow eyes was gone... for now. As Rosie rushed over to Dean, Sam grabbed the colt and aimed it at his father.
"You kill me, you kill daddy," the John taunted, his eyes yellow once again.
"I know," Sam growled, firing the gun. He didn't shoot to kill, however, aiming for his father's leg. As John fell to the floor, Sam dropped the colt. He ran straight over to his Dean, who had also fallen down. "Dean? Dean! Hey!" he tried to get his brother to focus. "Oh God, you've lost a lot of blood."
"Where's Dad?" Dean rasped, trying to lift his head.
"He's right here, Dean," Rosie told him, kneeling down beside her father. She pressed down on the wound in his leg, trying to stop the blood flow. "Dad?" she shook him. He was unconscious once again, and that worried her. "Dad?"
"Rosie!" John suddenly opened his eyes. He reached for the colt, pressing the gun into his daughter's hands. "It's still alive. It's inside me, I can feel it," he told her, tears in his eyes. "You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, kid! Do it now!"
"Rosie, don't you do it," Dean told her, barely conscious. "Don't you do it."
"I have to, Dean," she cried.
"You've got to hurry! I can't hold onto it much longer! You shoot me, kid!" John ordered her, wrapping a hand around her arm, pulling the gun down against his chest. "Shoot me, I'm begging you! We can end this here and now! Rosie!"
"Rosie. No," Sam begged her.
"You do this! Rosie!" John gritted his teeth.
Rosie looked down at her father with tears in her eyes. Her finger was on the trigger, but she just couldn't do it. Her brothers would never be able to forgive her. Hell, she would never be able to forgive herself.
So instead, she decided to try something else. She dropped the gun, closing her eyes as she focused all of her energy on getting rid of this demon. At first, it didn't seem like anything was happening, but then she felt it ...
Her palms grew hot, a familiar tingle running down her arms. She opened her eyes, concentrating on her hands as she tried to contain the energy that was flowing through her. As she placed her hands on her father's chest, black smoke left his body, escaping through the floorboards.
Thankfully, her brothers didn't seem to realize what she had done. Sam was too occupied with Dean, trying to get him to stay awake, and Dean... well, he was barely holding on. Her dad, however, had seen - and felt - everything.
"What did you - " John started.
"Later," Rosie whispered, helping her dad sit up. Being possessed - not to mention fighting back the demon inside of him - had taken a toll on his body. It didn't help that he'd been shot in the leg either. "We need to get you guys to the hospital."
...
"Sam, hurry!" Rosie cried as Dean lost consciousness, slumping down in his seat. She gently placed his head on her lap, running a hand through his hair. "Come on, Dean," she whispered. "Please wake up."
"Just hold on," Sam told her, stepping on the gas.
"I'm really surprised at you, Sammy. My leg? Why didn't you kill it? I thought we saw eye to eye on this?" John scolded his son, wincing in pain as he tried to sit up straight. He'd have a good word with Rosie later, knowing that she had also missed her shot. "Killing this demon comes first," he growled. "Before me, before everything!"
"No, Sir. Not before everything," Sam told him, looking at Dean and Rosie through the rearview mirror. "Look, we've still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We just have to start over, alright? I mean, we already found the demon - "
Before Sam could finish his sentence, an eighteen wheeler suddenly slammed into the passenger side of the Impala, the force of the blow pushing them off the road. Dean took the worst of it, but John wasn't much better off. Even Sam, who wasn't even on the side of impact, was knocked out cold, blood streaming from a cut on his forehead.
Much to her surprise, Rosie found herself sitting on the side of road, completely unharmed. Gabriel was standing right behind her. She didn't have any time to thank him for saving her ass, however, as the man behind the wheel of the truck started walking towards them, his eyes black as coal.
"Call 911," Gabriel told her, kneeling down to her level. "I'll take care of this freak."
"Wha - " Rosie gasped, watching him walk away. She reached into her pocket to pull out her phone, but soon realized that it wasn't there. Knowing that her phone still had to be in the backseat of the Impala, she crawled back over to the car. "I'm sorry," she whispered, carefully moving her brother's body over to the side so she could reach it.
As she climbed back out of the car, phone in hand, she was blinded by a bright light. She looked over just in time to see the truck driver's body fall to the floor, Gabriel standing over him, the light pouring from his hands. "You - " she gasped as the trickster started walking over to her. "You just - "
"Why does that surprise you?" Gabriel asked her, raising an eyebrow.
"What are you?" Rosie asked, staring up at him, her eyes wide. It was no wonder that Gabriel had seemed to know about her abilities ... he had personal experience. His abilities seemed a lot more powerful than hers, however, the truck driver's body practically disintegrated.
Gabriel knew he should have been more careful showing off his powers around her, but he had to do something and smiting the son of a bitch had, in the moment, seemed like the best option. But now - for probably the first time ever - he didn't think he would be able to talk his way out of the situation.
"You know what I am," he finally told her, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. It was a lame answer, and he knew it. So, before Rosie asked any more questions, he did the only think he could think to do ... he disappeared.
"Yeah," Rosie sighed, finally dialing 911. "I'm starting to doubt that."