Author's note: First and foremost I would like to apologize for the long delay in posting this chapter. Life got incredibly stressful for awhile and then I found myself on a reading kick. I will try and do better and get back to the more frequent updates. Second, I also apologize that the chapter I'm posting after such a long delay is really sub-par. I just needed to get it done. I hope though you'll at least be willing to stick around for the remaining chapters. Thank you for reading!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from Supernatural. All rights belong to the creators and writers of the show.
Fallon teleported back to the Impala and saw Dean leaning against it. She morosely began to walk towards him. Her movement caught his attention and he quickly pushed himself off his car and started walking towards her.
"Did you find him?" he asked her anxiously.
Fallon felt her face crumple. "No!" she cried. "I don't know what's wrong with me! First, I couldn't find Ava. Now Sam. I…"
"Hey, hey," Dean said soothingly. "There's nothing wrong with you, Fallon. This isn't your fault. Someone else is preventing you from finding them."
Fallon shook her head. "I can't stop thinking if I had just stayed at the motel that night…"
"Well, stop thinking that," Dean ordered pulling her into a hug. "It might not have made any difference."
"But…" She was caught off as Dean's cell phone rang. He picked it up.
"Hello?" he said gruffly and then his expression changed to one of relief. "Sammy? Where the hell are you? Are you okay?" His expression twisted back into one of concern. "Hey, hey! Calm down. Where are you? Alright, don't move, Fallon and I are on our way."
"Where is he?" Fallon asked when Dean hung up the phone.
"Later," Dean replied. "Get in the car." For once Dean's brusque manner didn't bother her. She got into the passenger seat and they quickly sped off in Sam's direction.
They eventually arrived at some shady looking motel, and after Dean parked the car, they quickly entered the building and made their way to Sam's room. Dean knocked on the door.
"Sam, it's me," he called. There was no response. Fallon went to blast the door open, but Dean motioned for her to wait. He tried the door handle and found it unlocked. Sam was sitting on a bed with a vacant expression on his face. He glanced over at them.
"Hey, Dean," he croaked. His gaze then slid over to her. "Fallon."
"Sammy," Fallon whispered ducking around Dean and rushing over to Sam. She sat down next to him and threw her arms around his shoulders, but he didn't hug her back or say anything.
"Are you bleeding?" Dean asked. Fallon glanced over at him before looking back at Sam and taking the time to really look him over. The shirt he was wearing was covered in blood and it still looked damp in some places.
"Oh my God!" she exclaimed.
"I tried to wash it off," Sam said woodenly as Dean began to pull at the shirt, looking for a wound. "I don't think it's my blood." Dean and Fallon shared a look.
"Whose is it?" Dean asked.
"I don't know," Sam whispered.
"Sam, what the hell happened?" Dean asked.
Sam finally made full eye contact with them. "I don't remember anything," he told them.
A stunned silence filled the room for a moment before Fallon finally took charge. "Okay," she said standing up. She pulled on Sam's arm to bring him to his feet also. "We can piece everything together later. Right now, we need to get you cleaned up." She led him into the motel room's bathroom and used her power to turn on the tap in the shower. "You'll have to gage the water temperature yourself." She turned around to leave and saw Sam standing there woodenly. She sighed. "You're also going to have to undress yourself. I'm not doing it for you."
She was relieved when she saw the corners of his lips twitch up to a small smile for a moment. "Thanks," Sam said beginning to peel the blood-soaked shirt off.
"I'll leave some clean clothes outside the door for you," she told him. "Take your time showering and try to relax." Fallon left the room and went over to Dean who was not sitting on the bed with his face in his hands.
"Hey," she said placing a hand on his shoulder, "you okay?"
"I need to know what happened," Dean sighed, his voice coming out mumbled as he spoke into his hands.
"Dean look at me," Fallon ordered pulling gently at his hands. He lowered them slowly and met her gaze, a desperate plea in his eyes for her to make things better. "We're going to figure out what's going on, I promise, but right now we need to take care of everyone's basic needs."
"I think there are more important things to worry about!" Dean cried getting aggravated now.
"I know, but Sam's in no state to deal with that right now," Fallon said. "Right now, we all just have to breathe."
"I don't think I can," Dean said.
"Well, you're going to have to, because I have a job for you," Fallon said.
"What's that?" Dean asked.
"I saw a convenient store a few blocks away from the motel on our way in," Fallon said. "Go pick up some food. Comfort food. And while you're doing that, ask around and see if anyone's noticed Sam."
"Right," Dean said, happy to have something to do and a small start to piece together what had happened with Sam. "I'll be right back."
"Take your time," Fallon said watching him leave. She then quickly dug through Sam's duffel bag and pulled out a clean shirt, jeans, and underwear for him. She left in on a chair outside of the bathroom. She then quickly got to work straightening up the room and checked for any blood stains on the carpet or bedspread. She was relieved when she didn't see any. When she had everything sorted the way she wanted them she sat down on the bed. About ten minutes later the shower stopped. Not long after Sam came out dressed and looking more alert than he'd been before.
"Feeling better?" she asked slipping over on the mattress a little so he would sit beside her.
"I guess," Sam replied rubbing his fists against his temple. "I just wish I could remember what happened."
"We'll figure that out, Sam," Fallon assured him squeezing his shoulder gently. "We just need to take it one step at a time."
Sam nodded before glancing around the room. "Where's Dean?"
"I sent him out to get some groceries," Fallon said. "And to see if he could get any news on you. He should be back soon." As if she had conjured him there, the motel room door opened, and Dean walked in.
"What'd you find out?" Sam asked as Dean set down the grocery bag.
"You checked in two days ago under the name Richard Sambora," Dean said. "Of course, I think the scariest part about this whole thing is the fact that you're a Bon Jovi fan."
"Dean," Sam sighed.
"Your room's been quiet," Dean continued. "Nobody's noticed anything unusual."
"You mean no one saw me walking around covered in blood," Sam stated.
"Well, small blessings," Fallon said.
"How the hell did I get here?" Sam cried. "What happened to me?"
"I don't know, but you're, you're okay," Dean said. "That's what matters. Everything else we can deal with."
"Oh really?" Sam snapped. "Cause what if I hurt someone? Or worse."
"Sam…"
"What if this is what Dad warned you about?" Sam pushed.
"It is way too soon to start worrying about that," Fallon intervened. "We don't know what happened right now. We need to treat this like any other case."
"Fallon's right," Dean said. "Now, what's the last thing you remember?"
"Just the three of us in that motel room in West Texas," Sam said. "We were going out to get burgers, and…"
"West Texas?" Dean said cutting him off. "That was over a week ago."
"That's it," Sam replied. "Next thing I knew I was sitting here. Bloody. Felt like I'd been asleep for a month."
"Okay," Dean replied, and Fallon could see how hard he was trying not to act freaked out. "Retrace your steps. The manager said you left yesterday afternoon and he never saw you come back, so…"
"Maybe you came back in through the window?" Fallon suggested. Dean walked over to the window and pushed the curtain back. A smear of blood was on the glass.
"I'd say that's accurate," Dean said.
"Well," Fallon said standing up, "I don't think we're going to figure out anything more in here. Let's check the grounds." She phased through the window to stand in front of the motel room and glanced around. If she went right, she'd find herself in front of the motel, but if Sam had come from that way it's likely he would have been seen. If she went left, she'd find herself in a large parking lot that had a thin wood around its perimeter. There was a lot less of a chance that he would have encountered someone in this direction. Sam and Dean came around the corner towards the front of the building and joined her.
"Well?" Dean asked.
"I think he most likely came back to the motel from this direction," Fallon said
"Okay," Dean said. "Let's start walking." They were in the parking lot now away from the building. "Recognize anything?"
"Not really," Sam said dejectedly and then came to a halt. "Wait."
Fallon glanced at him and then over to a garage that was on the back perimeter. "What is it, Sam?"
"I think I was here," Sam asked starting towards the garage.
"You remember?" Dean questioned.
"Not really, it just," Sam paused before continuing, "feels familiar, you know?"
"Well, let's go check it out," Fallon said, and they walked over to the garage. Fallon tugged at the padlock on the door, but it was locked. She raised her hand to unlock it, but Sam shoved it back down.
"Wait," he said and began searching his jean pockets. He pulled out a key. "I found these in my old jeans." He tried the key on the lock, and it worked. Inside the garage was an old, beat-up VW Bug.
"Oh, please tell me you didn't steal this," Dean groaned. Sam ignored him as he walked over to the car and opened the driver's side door.
"More blood," Sam said pointing at the steering wheel.
"Back seat," Dean said, and Sam pulled out a blood-stained knife.
"You think I used this on someone?" Sam asked disturbed.
"I'm not thinking anything," Dean said after a moment.
Fallon dug around through the car and ducked back out carrying a pack of cigarettes. "Um, since when do you smoke?" Sam shrugged.
Dean grabbed the pack off her and looked at Sam. "Okay, now this is disturbing," he said. "This couldn't have been you. Had to have been somebody else. Someone who smokes menthols."
"Here," Fallon said coming back out of the car after digging around again. "It's a gas receipt from a few towns over."
"Let's go," Sam said walking out of the garage. Fallon and Dean followed him to the Impala, and they all got in. Dean drove them to the gas station and looked over the receipt again.
"Alright, the receipts for ten gallons at pump number two," he read. "You getting any goosebumps yet?" Sam shook his head. "Maybe someone inside will remember you. Come on."
The three walked into the store and up to the cashier at the single register. The cashier glanced up and glowered at Sam. "You!" he cried. "Outta here now. I'm calling the cops."
"You talking to him?" Dean asked confused.
"Yeah, I'm talking to him," the cashier replied heatedly. "Jerk comes in here yesterday, stinking drunk, grabs a forty from the fridge, starts chugging."
"This guy?" Dean said incredulously turning to Sam. "You're drinking malt liquor?"
"Not after he whipped the friggin' bottle at my head," the cashier said.
"This guy?" Dean asked again, and Fallon could understand why. Sam didn't ever lose his cool like that.
"Look, I'm really sorry if I did anything…"
"Tell your story walking, pal," the cashier brushed Sam off. "Po-po will be here in five."
"Wait, wait," Dean said. "Put the phone down. Sam, go wait in the car." Sam opened his mouth to protest but Fallon tugged at his hand.
"I'll wait with you," she said and they both went back to the Impala. They waited silently for Dean who came out of the store a few minutes later. He didn't say anything as he approached them and just got in the car. They joined him and he drove off. They were a few miles away before he finally spoke.
"What's going on with you, Sam?" he asked. "Cause smoking, throwing bottles at people? I mean, that sounds more like me than you."
"Dean, wait, right here," Sam said. "Turn down that road."
"What?" Dean asked.
"I don't know how I know. I just do," Sam replied. Dean didn't say anything but turned onto the road. After a few minutes' drive it led to a large house. There were plenty if emergency lights and security cameras planted outside the house.
"Military?" Fallon theorized. "Paranoid cop?"
"Maybe," Dean answered.
"Whoever lives here, I'd say they don't like surprises," Sam said.
"Should we knock?" Dean asked after parking the car.
"Yeah, I guess," Sam replied. They walked up to the front porch and knocked on the door. No one answered. Sam sidled around the side of the house before calling them over. Fallon and Dean headed over to him and saw glass from a broken window spill out on the ledge and the ground beneath it.
"I'm surprised the cops didn't show," Dean said. "You'd think a place like this would have an alarm."
"Those are easy to disable," Fallon said.
"Yeah, they are," Sam agreed motioning to the disabled alarm on the wall. They walked back to the front of the house and Fallon opened the door for the two brothers. They glanced around the inside of the home. A fight had clearly taken place. Glass and other items laid scattered across the floor. Fallon used her powers to turn on the lights so they could see better and then screamed. Lying in the middle of the floor was a corpse of a middle-aged man with his throat slashed open.
"Oh my god!" Fallon cried backing into Dean who wrapped an arm around her to hold her up.
Sam looked horrified. "I did this," he said.
"We don't know that," Dean replied quickly.
"What else do you need?" Sam asked aggravated. "I mean, how else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood…"
"I don't know!" Dean cried. "Why don't you tell me? Look, even if you did do this, I'm sure you had a reason; self-defense, he was a bad son of a bitch, something!" Dean sat Fallon down in a nearby chair and then began to run his hands over the corpse. "He doesn't have any ID."
"I need your lockpick," Sam said.
"What?" Dean asked.
"I need your lockpick," Sam repeated. Dean handed it over to him and Sam walked over to a double-doored closet and used the lockpick to open it. One the back wall of the closet firearms were hung in abundance. Charts and clippings covered the rest.
"Either this guy's a Unabomber…"
"Or a hunter," Sam finished for his brother. "I think I killed a hunter."
"Let's find out," Dean said looking at a security camera hanging on the wall. "Fallon, do you think you could hack into this guy's computer to access the security footage?" After a moment with no reply both boys turned to look at her.
"Fallon?" Sam asked softly.
Fallon glanced up from the dead body she'd been staring at in a daze for the past five minutes. "I'm sorry," she said. "What?"
"We need to look at the security footage," Dean explained. "Think you can access that for us?"
"Yeah," Fallon answered getting to her feet slowly. "I can do that." She sat down in front of the computer and turned it on. She fiddled around with it for a moment and found the footage they wanted. She rewound the tape for a bit before stopping when she Sam first come into the house. He and the now dead guy began fighting. The fight moved out of the cameras view. A few minutes later Sam re-entered the screen dragging the corpse into the room. Fallon froze the screen and stood back up and walked away. She didn't want to see more.
"I need some air," she muttered and walked outside, relieved when neither of the boys called her out on that lie. She stumbled down the stairs on the front porch and then ambled across the yard putting distance between herself and the crime scene. She stopped when she reached a large oak tree and then suddenly folded over, chest and stomach heaving as the growing panic she'd felt all day consumed her. She closed her eyes shut tightly and tried to force the image of Sam dragging the hunter's corpse out of her mind.
She didn't understand how this could be happening. She knew Sam. He wasn't violent. He wasn't a killer. These thoughts helped calm her down. Whatever was going on here couldn't be cut and dry. This wasn't the end of the story. It was just the beginning. They still didn't know everything yet. Fallon took a few deep breaths and stood up straight, turning around to face the house. She couldn't condemn Sam for this murder yet, not until they painted the complete picture. She stared back to the house to help the boys, but she had only gotten halfway across the yard when they both came out of the house.
Fallon froze as Sam walked in her direction to the car. She felt electricity flood through her, the way it felt when she was around another ghost…or a demon. She took a few steps closer and the feeling grew stronger. She thought about the whole event. He'd gone and left without warning and his entire behavior had changed. He also couldn't remember a large period of time. But there was no sulfur. His eyes never changed, not even when fighting the dead hunter. She wasn't sure.
"Fallon!" She jumped and glanced over at Dean, who was now behind the wheel of the Impala. "Let's go. We're getting out of here." She nodded and popped into the backseat. She decided not to say anything for now. If Sam was possessed, she didn't want to alert the demon that she was suspicious.
The drive back to the motel was silent. No one said a word until they re-entered their room. "Alright, we get a couple of hours sleep and then we put this place in our rearview mirror," Dean stated. Sam and Fallon stayed silent. "Look, I know this is bad, okay? You gotta snap out of it. Say something!"
"Just get some sleep and leave in the morning?" Sam said. "Murder. That's what I did."
"Maybe," Dean replied. Sam scoffed and Fallon averted her gaze. "Hey, we don't know…shapeshifter."
"Oh, come on," Sam cried. "You know it wasn't. You saw the tape. There was no eye flare."
Fallon frowned as she felt the electricity flow through her once more. The feeling was stronger this time. She glanced at Sam and really looked him over. There was an expression on his face. One she'd never seen before.
"Yeah, but it wasn't you!" Dean said. "Alright? I mean, yeah, it might have been you, but it wasn't you."
The energy felt familiar, she realized, her skin prickling. She been in the presence if this being before.
"Well, I think it was," Sam said. "I think maybe more than you know."
She tried to think of where she'd felt this particular energy before.
"What the hell does that mean?" Dean asked.
There had been an alter and blood involved. And then an exorcism.
"For the last few weeks I've been having…I've been having these feelings," Sam admitted.
Her eyes widened as it came to her.
"What feelings?" Dean asked.
She began to shake, and she glanced over at Sam in horror.
"Rage," Sam said. "Hate. And I can't stop it. It just gets worse."
Neither of the boys noticed her reactions.
"You never told me this," Dean said quietly.
She had to warn Dean.
"I didn't want to scare you," Sam said.
She had to warn him before something bad happened.
"Dean, the yellow-eyed demon, you know he has plans for me," Sam continued. "And we both know that he's turned other children into killers before."
She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out.
"No one can control you, but you," Dean said.
Fallon shook her head. That's not true. That's exactly what's happening now.
"It sure doesn't seem like that, Dean," Sam replied. "It feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely I'm…I'm becoming who I'm meant to be. I mean, you said it once yourself. I gotta face up to who I am."
'No,' Fallon mouthed the word, but no sound came out.
"I didn't mean this!" Dean cried dismayed.
She had to tell Dean. She had to tell him now.
"But it's still true," Sam said quietly. "You know that. Dad knew that, too. That's why he told you, if it ever came to this…"
She rose to her feet.
"Shut up, Sam," Dean said.
She took a deep breath.
"Dean, you promised him," Sam said. "You promised me."
She let it out.
"No," Dean said. "Listen to me. We're gonna figure this out. Okay? I mean, there's gotta be a way, right?"
She opened her mouth.
"Yeah, there is," Sam said pulling a handgun from his duffel bag and holding it out for Dean. "I don't want to hurt anyone else. I don't want to hurt you."
"Don't listen, Dean! It's Meg!" she cried causing both to turn and stare at her. "The demon. She's possessing him!" Sam's face contorted into a twisted smile before he pistol-whipped Dean, who fell unconscious to the floor. Enraged, Fallon extended her arm and Sam's body flew backwards into the wall. The smile didn't fall from his face.
"Very clever, Fallon," the demon said. "I was wondering if you'd figure it out."
"Get out of him," Fallon growled.
The demon laughed. "I don't think so," it said. "I like it here. So roomy."
Fallon used her telekinesis to bring John's journal into her hand and opened it to an exorcism ritual. "I won't ask again," she warned the demon.
Sam's face twisted into an evil smirk, and then he stepped away from the wall. "You're powerful, Fallon," the demon admitted. "But not as powerful as me." Fallon opened her mouth to start the ritual but was flung back into the wall behind her. Sam was suddenly right in front of her, his eyes black. "I'd love to have some fun with you, but lucky for you that doesn't suit my purpose right now."
"Go to hell," Fallon spat out.
"Never again," the demon said wrapping a hand around her throat.
Suddenly, Fallon's body was seized with pain. It grew worse and worse, until finally she blacked out.
"Fallon!" She heard a voice calling her. "Can you hear me? Fallon!"
Slowly, she opened her eyes and frowned when she saw she was in a parking lot. Thoughts started to swim slowly through her head as she tried to place her current location with her memories, and then her memories crashed back into her with the force of a freight train. She jerked upright in her seat and began to reach for the door handle.
"Hey! Hey!" the voice she'd heard called again and steadying hands gripped her shoulders to turn her to face them. "It's just me."
"Dean!" Fallon cried glancing over him from head to foot. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured her. "Are you okay?"
She ignored his question. "Dean, it's Meg," she blurted out. "Or the demon that was possessing that Meg girl. It's possessing Sam."
"I know," Dean said. "I heard you last night before I got pistol whipped."
"We need to find out where it's taking Sam," Fallon said.
"I've already got that covered," Dean told her starting the car. Fallon realized now they were in the Impala.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Minnesota," Dean answered.
"What's in Minnesota?" Fallon asked.
"Jo Harvelle," Dean answered.
They pulled up in front of a shady looking saloon and rushed out of the car. They burst through the saloon's door and saw Sam hovering over a tied-up Jo.
"Sam!" Dean shouted and unclipped a flash and flung holy water at Sam. Sam hissed as his skin burnt from the contact. He growled before turning and running out the back of the saloon.
"Go after him," Fallon said. "I'll be right there." She watched Dean tear off after his brother before hurrying to Jo. She snapped her fingers and the rope tied around the blonde girl loosened.
"What's going on?" Jo asked.
"Sam's possessed," Fallon answered brusquely.
"Yeah, that was pretty clear," Jo said getting to her feet. "What does the demon want." Fallon ignored her as she headed towards the exit Sam and Dean had used. "Fallon!"
"I have to go help Dean," Fallon called over her shoulder leaving the saloon behind.
"Fallon!"
Fallon rushed out into the night. Behind the saloon, piles of crates created a maze. She followed one path just to hit a dead-end, forcing her to turn around and go down another. She tried to listening for any sound of movement, but the boys must have been out of her hearing range. She used her supernatural powers to try and get a placement for the boys, but that wasn't working either. She'd be able to sense Dean for a moment, but then she'd lose bearing on him, presumably because he got close to Sam.
Finally, she turned a corner that led her out into the open. She saw foot prints heading towards a river that was nearby. She couldn't see either Sam or Dean, but she thought she heard muted footsteps ahead of her.
"Fallon, wait!" Jo said coming to stand beside her.
"I can't wait," Fallon said. "I have to get to Dean."
"If it's a demon we're dealing with here we need all hands-on deck," Jo replied keeping pace with her.
"Have you ever actually encountered a demon before?" Fallon asked.
"Don't try to act like you have a ton of experience with them." Jo snapped. "Until a year ago you didn't know much about the supernatural world."
"No, but I've at least interacted with demons, so I think that makes me a little more qualified than you," Fallon said.
"Look, I know you don't like me, but if you want to save both boys you need to get over it and work with me," Jo said.
"I don't have to do…" Fallon cut off as she heard a gunshot from the river. She took off running. "Dean!" She heard Jo running right behind her. Upon reaching the river she saw a bridge and ran up onto it. She looked around the shore on one side but couldn't see Sam or Dean. "Dean!"
"I've got an idea," Jo said coming to stand beside her. She pulled out her phone and dialed Dean's number. Both girls froze when they heard his ringtone coming from under the bridge. They ran back down the bridge, following the sound until they arrived at Dean's still body sprawled on the bank.
"Dean!" Fallon cried shaking his shoulder. "Dean!"
"Son of a bitch!" Dean groaned squirming away from his grasp.
"Hey, take it easy," Jo said helping Dean sit up.
"Where's Sam?" he asked.
"I don't know," Jo replied. "We've been looking for you. Come on, get up." Dean groaned as he got to his feet, clutching his shoulder the whole time.
"What happened to your shoulder?" Fallon asked remembering the gunshot.
"It's nothing, Fallon," Dean grumbled, but his face was contorted with pain.
She batted his hand away from his shoulder and gaped at the gunshot wound. "Oh my god!" she cried.
"It's nothing," Dean said. "Fallon it's not that bad."
"You were shot!" Fallon cried, her voice rising several octaves.
"It's not fatal," Dean said.
"Not if we get it cleaned up," Jo said. "Fallon, take his other side. We'll treat the wound back inside." Fallon ducked under Dean's other arm and together, she and Jo got him back to the saloon and maneuvered him into a chair. The effort brought Fallon back into her head. She felt less panicked now, and much more like herself.
"How could you let yourself get shot?" she scolded Dean as Jo walked off to get supplies to care for the wound.
"I didn't let myself get shot," Dean said. "It just happened."
"Well, then why weren't you more careful?" Fallon replied. Dean just gave her a look, but the corners of his mouth were twitching. He was trying to hold back a smile. She didn't hold her own smile back. She appreciated that he let her rant at him as a distraction for her slowly settling nerves.
"Can you pulled back the sleeve to your t-shirt or do I need to cut it?" Jo asked rejoining them. Dean grabbed his sleeve and rolled it up, baring his shoulder, grimacing with the motion. Jo inspected the wound.
"No exit wound," she commented.
Dean made a face. "Would it really be a bad idea to leave the bullet sit in there?" Jo and Fallon both gave him a pointed look. He sighed. "Okay. Have at it." Jo grabbed some type of medical device and poured some alcohol over it to sterilize it. She then handed a bottle of whiskey to Dean. "Thanks." Fallon settled down on his other side and slid her hand in his. Dean looked down at their entwined hands before meeting her gaze.
"That might not be a good idea," he said.
Fallon rolled her eyes. "I'm a ghost, Dean," she said.
Dean nodded. "Right." His grip then tightened like a vice on her hand as Jo began digging around in his shoulder for the bullet.
"Don't be such a baby," Jo chided.
"God!" Dean groaned.
"Almost," Jo soothed. "Alright, got it. Got it." She pulled away from his shoulder and dropped a bloodstained bullet in a clear glass of alcohol on the table. She handed Dean the bottle of whiskey again.
"God, you're a butcher," Dean grumbled after gulping down a few swigs of the whiskey.
"You're welcome," Jo answered sarcastically as she began to wrap the wound in gauze.
"Alright, are we done?" Dean complained.
"When I'm done patching you up," Jo replied.
"I have to catch up with Sam," Dean said. "That demon has him gunning for fellow hunters."
"Do you know where he's going next?" Fallon asked.
"Bobby's," Dean answered. "He's probably already halfway there."
"You won't get there before he does," Jo said.
"You haven't experienced my driving," Dean replied.
"Even with you behind the wheel you won't get there in time," Fallon said. "But I can."
Dean nodded. "Okay. You pop in and give Bobby a heads up. I'll meet you there."
Fallon nodded. "See you there." She glanced over at Jo. "Thanks for the help." She teleported away before getting a response.
She popped into Bobby's office room calling his name. She heard something fall to the floor and turned around to see Bobby sitting at his desk, a surprised look at his face. A book lay face down on the floor, pages crumpled where it landed.
"I guess I could have knocked," she said sheepishly.
Bobby gave her a very thin smile. "I guess I'll go let the boys in," he said standing up.
"No!" Fallon said. "That's not why I'm here?" Bobby gave her a suspicious look. She sighed. "Sam's possessed."
"What?" Bobby asked.
"Meg's possessing him," Fallon said. "Or the demon that possessed Meg is possessing him." Bobby was looking at her as if she'd grown two heads. "You know the girl who died in your living room? You remember her?"
"I don't think you forget someone dying in your living room," Bobby replied dryly. "Why are you here if Sam's possessed? Shouldn't you be helping Dean with an exorcism?"
"Because the possessed Sam is coming your way with the sole purpose of killing you," Fallon replied. "I'm your warning."
Bobby nodded. "How long do you think we have?"
"An hour, maybe," Fallon said. "He's probably halfway here."
"Okay," Bobby sighed. "Pick up that book that fell over and open to page seventy-three."
"What's on page seventy-three?" Fallon asked as the book flew into her hands.
"That's the page I left off on," Bobby answered.
"So, you just want me to mark the page?" Fallon asked.
"Bookmark's on the desk," Bobby called over his shoulder as he moved out of the room. Fallon looked at his retreating back and then down at the desk where a brown, leather bookmark laid flat in the center. She marked the page and left the book on the desk before hurrying after Bobby.
"I don't think you understand the urgency of this situation," Fallon said. "Sam's on his way here now. And he's possessed. By a demon."
"You've said," Bobby answered pulling a bear out of the fridge.
"So, we should be preparing some kind of defense," Fallon stated.
Bobby sighed and glanced at her, meeting her gaze squarely. "Listen, Fallon, we don't know each other so I'll explain this to you this one time," he said. "I am prepared for everything. I got a plan A, a Plan B, all the way down to Plan Z."
"Even for demon attacks?" Fallon challenged.
"There's a devil's trap in every room in this house," Bobby told her. "Drew them up after your last visit here." Fallon frowned and then swept the house. When she came back to the kitchen, Bobby looked amused. "Find them?"
"I guess you didn't need the warning," she replied, more than a little put out that her heroics were useless.
"No, but I appreciate the gesture," Bobby said. Fallon started to smile and then saw the sack of salt laying out on the table.
"You sure about that?" she questioned.
"Don't be so mistrusting," Bobby said smiling. "I don't plan on attacking you with the salt."
"Just going to leave me in a salt circle," Fallon challenged. "You know I can get out of them, right?"
"Look, the demon in Sam will sense your presence if you're not in a salt ring," Bobby said. "It'll be instantly on guard. I need to take it by surprise."
"I'm pretty sure it'll know I'm here if it sees me standing in your kitchen," Fallon said flatly.
"You're not going to be in the kitchen," Bobby told her. "You'll be in the hall closet."
"You're literally going to lock me in your closet?" Fallon cried.
"Fallon, I'm trusting you," Bobby said. "I need you to trust me. When I get the demon possessing Sam secured, I'll let you out. I promise." Fallon sighed, but nodded her head in agreement. She followed Bobby out to the hall closet and walked in, ducking behind moving coats so she could stand in the back. She watched Bobby draw a line of salt across the inside of the closet's entrance. He met her eyes again before shutting the door. "The second the demon's secure."
"Okay," Fallon agreed. Bobby nodded and shut the door.
She heard Sam arrive, and not too long after that a cry of pain. There was a sound of a small scuffle and then silence. Fallon tapped her foot impatiently. She was about to break the salt circle herself, when Bobby opened the door and ran his foot through.
"See," he said as she stepped out. "Told you I'd let you out of there."
"Thanks," Fallon said, but she was looking into the living room where she saw Sam tied to a chair.
"He'll be fine," Bobby assured her. "Got a text from Dean. He should be hear within an hour."
Fallon nodded. "Want me to wait outside?"
"If you can't keep your mouth shut while I go back to my book," Bobby replied. "Otherwise, you can lounge around here. I have plenty of books you might like." Fallon didn't say anything. She followed him into his study. He picked up his book and sat down to read it at his desk. Fallon searched through the shelves before grabbing a book for herself. They sat in companionable silence until they heard a car pulling up to the house.
"Dean," Fallon said springing to her feet and running for the door. She swung it open and flung her arms around his neck.
Dean groaned. "Not the best time for that," he said, but wrapped an arm around her waist anyway.
"Sorry," Fallon said stepping back. "How's the shoulder?"
"Hurts like a bitch," Dean admitted.
"What happened to your shoulder?" Bobby asked watching them from the doorway to the living room. He looked mildly amused.
Dean's gaze landed on Sam's figure behind Bobby. "That bastard shot me." He walked over to Sam and smacked him smartly on the face. "Hey."
Sam came to and glanced around him. A smirk crawled onto his face. "Dean, back from the dead," he said. "Getting to be a regular thing for you, isn't it? Like a cockroach."
"How about I smack that smartass right out of your mouth?" Dean suggested.
"Oh, careful now," the demon mocked. "Wouldn't want to bruise this fine packaging."
"Don't worry," Dean replied. "This isn't going to hurt Sam much." He picked up a bucket that had been placed nearby. "You on the other hand…" The demon screamed as the holy water covered him. "Feel like talking now?"
"Sam's still my meat puppet," the demon hissed. "I'll make him bite off his tongue."
"You won't be in him long enough," Dean stated flatly. "Bobby." Bobby stepped forward with a book open and started reading an exorcism ritual. Sam started to writhe in his chair. An agonized expression on his face as Bobby continued to read from the book, and then he began to laugh. Bobby stopped reading.
"Oops," the demon mocked. "Doesn't seem to be working. See, I learned a few new tricks." The demon began to mutter something in Latin and the fire in the fireplace flared as the room began to shake.
"What's happening?" Fallon asked.
"I don't know," Dean replied. "This isn't going like I pictured."
"It's using a binding link!" Bobby cried pointing to a burn mark on Sam's forearm. "It's locked itself inside Sam's body!"
"Well that's unfortunate," Fallon commented as a crack started spreading across the ceiling.
"What the hell do we do?" Dean asked.
"I don't know!" Bobby said as the crack broke the devil's trap.
"I suggest we figure that out quickly," Fallon replied as Sam broke free from his confinement.
"That's better," the demon said flinging Bobby in one direction to the left and then Dean to the right. Fallon felt herself get lifted off her feet and thrown back into the front parlor. She struggled to center herself leaning up on her elbows until she was in a half-upright position. She saw Sam advancing on Dean, beating him when he got him.
Fallon felt her temper flare and she got back to her feet. She stormed back into the room and extended an arm out in front of her. Sam froze mid punch. "Let him go now," Fallon ordered and used her power to slam Sam into the adjacent wall.
The motion caused him to drop Dean. It snarled as it got to Sam's feet and advanced on her. "You really want to do this again?" it asked. "I've already proved you can't beat me."
"I don't need to beat you," Fallon said. "I just needed to distract you." Sam frowned and then reared back as Bobby lurched towards him, but it was too late. The scalding hot fire poker landed on the binding mark, breaking it. It screamed and then a rush of black smoke poured out of Sam's mouth and flew out the chimney. Sam stumbled back into the wall and then looked around confused.
"Sammy?" Dean asked walking up to him.
"Did I miss anything?" Sam asked. Dean punched him and then passed out. Sam looked confused.
Later, after the boys had cleaned themselves up and Fallon had helped Bobby clear up the mess that had been made, they were ready to leave.
"Before you go, take these," Bobby said passing necklaces with a pentagram on it.
"What are they?" Sam asked.
"Charms," Bobby answered. "They'll fend off possession. That demon's still out there. This'll stop it from getting back up in ya."
"You need to work on your phrasing," Fallon commented slyly. Bobby chuckled and shot her a smile.
"You lot be careful," he said as they headed out the door.
"You too," Sam and Dean said. The three of them got back in the Impala and drove away.
"What a mess that was," Fallon sighed.
"Let's just put it out of our minds for a little while," Dean said tersely. Fallon frowned and looked back and forth at both brothers. She hoped this didn't develop into one of their fights.
