Thank you Jenjoremy for beta'ing. You're a star. Gredelina1 and SandraEngstrom2 gave up a long evening to help me work out this chapter. Thank you ladies.
Chapter Fourteen
They didn't go back to The Roadhouse, though Dean hadn't really expected them to. They continued west to California, making the ride last days — a proper road trip for a change. Sam was quiet still, thoughtful, but he wasn't shut down. He would talk about inconsequential things but none of the big stuff like Ruby or the deal. Dean didn't push. As long as Sam was talking about something, he wasn't too worried.
They found a small town on the coast with a reasonably priced motel, and Dean was settling in for their stay, thinking of beach nights and maybe some relaxation for a change, when the call came through in the middle of the first night.
Dean was woken by his phone ringing and he was out of bed and across the room grabbing it up before his eyes were all the way open. Sam sat on the edge of the bed, watching him carefully, alert and ready for action.
"Hello?"
"Dean, it's me," Ruby said. "I've got something for you."
"Demon?" Dean asked, and Sam's eyes became intense.
"Yeah. Not a powerful one, not like Lilith or even Crowley, but something for Sam to get his teeth sunk into. Where are you?"
"California."
"Vacation time already? And you didn't even invite me."
"Be serious Ruby," Dean said. "Where are you?"
"Lucky for you, I'm not far. Henderson, Nevada, Thirty minutes out of Sin City."
"Vegas? Seriously?"
"Demons like the pretty lights and gambling," she said. "Are you coming?"
Like they had a choice. "We can be there by lunchtime. Can you hold out till then?" He was thinking about what she had said about hating to look at a demon knowing they were the same at root. He knew she usually found them and killed them in quick succession to avoid it.
"I'll be fine," she said confidently.
"Thanks, Ruby…" He trailed off, not sure of what else to say, especially as Sam was closely listening. His feelings for Ruby were confused. He wished for the days when she had been another hunter, his trainer and lover, even though it had—at least some of it—been a lie.
"I know, Dean. I'll see you real soon."
Dean ended the call and set the phone down carefully on the table. It was happening at last. It was time to test Sam out. He wasn't sure how he felt about it. He was desperate for Ruby's plan to work, but at the same time he didn't want Sam to have to do it, to become what Ansem and Ava had been. The disgust in his voice when he had spoken about them was unforgettable.
Dean knew if he shared his worries with Sam they would be waved away as inconsequential. Sam wouldn't want to hear it or talk about it. He probably didn't need the reminders of what was at stake. It wasn't like he could have forgotten.
"Well?" Sam said impatiently.
"She's just outside Vegas," Dean said. "And she's got a demon for us."
Sam nodded slowly. "Come on then. Let's get gone." He stood and shoved his feet into his boots at the end of the bed.
"Sure," Dean said. "Just give me a minute to change and clean up."
He went into the bathroom and closed the door behind him, leaning his head against the thin wood. This was it. It was happening. This was when they'd find out if it was possible to save him.
Ruby gave them an address on the edges of town, and Sam drove them there, following the directions that Dean had looked up on his cell. Dean was talking. Babbling really. Joining the tape deck in destroying the peace and quiet. He rambled on about the things they saw as they drove — 'Cool, a Wendy's, we won't starve at least' — and asked more than once if Sam was okay — 'Because it's okay not to be, you know?'
Sam nodded in response and assured his brother he was fine, all the while fighting off the thoughts of what was to come, what he was about to do. He tried to cling to the fact this was important, it was what had to happen to save Dean, but he couldn't help but wonder what kind of brother he would be leaving for Dean if this worked. How much of himself he would have to give up in order to succeed?
The address turned out to be an abandoned Gas-N-Sip on the edge of town leading to the highway. "Huh," he said. "I thought Ruby preferred warehouses."
Dean missed the sarcasm completely. "I guess she takes what she can find."
Sam pulled the car to a spot round back and they climbed out. Ruby waited for them by the delivery entrance. She graced Sam with a nod and then beamed at Dean who returned her smile. For what felt like the hundredth time, Sam wondered what his brother could possibly see in her that allowed him to look past the fact she was a demon.
"Welcome to the party," she said brightly. "Today's special is demon served in trap with a lot of big talk. I hope you enjoy."
Sam expected Dean to laugh at her quip, but his expression was serious now and his brow furrowed. He seemed to have grasped the gravity of the moment.
Sam walked ahead of them into the building, leaving them to talk or whatever. The demon was standing at the edges of a devil's trap, unbound and straight backed. It was in the meat suit of a young man with sandy blonde hair. He had to be college age and would have been innocent looking if not for the onyx black eyes.
"Well, well, well, Sammy Winchester," the demon said. "I heard you teamed up with the traitor bitch out there, but I wasn't expecting you to make a personal visit. I thought she'd just stab and run like she normally does."
Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out the knife. "She can't do any stabbing right now."
"Which I find very annoying." Ruby's voice came from behind him. She stepped into his peripheral view and grimaced. "A demon's gotta defend herself, you know?"
Sam shrugged. "Just think, your loss defends two lives instead of one this way. It's noble what you're doing."
Dean walked into the room, looking tense as he took in the trapped demon.
"Another Winchester," the demon said. "It's my lucky day. I am going to really enjoy ripping your throats out."
Sam ignored him and asked Ruby a question that had been bugging him since Dean told him about Ruby's version of hunting. "How'd you get him in the trap without getting stuck yourself?"
She smiled beatifically. "It's amazing what an iron crowbar can do to a demon when smashed into the skull. I wait till they're good and out and then shove them in."
"So there's no chance for the host?" Sam asked mildly.
"No," she said. There was no pride in her voice now. She sounded regretful. Sam guessed it was for Dean's benefit. He highly doubted that she was feeling true regret. Packed with human memories she might be, and working for their team, she still wasn't really human and probably didn't feel the way they did about it. He glanced at Dean and her regret had worked for him. He was looking at her sympathetically.
"It's the only way though," she said, looking pointedly at Dean.
Sam nodded. Yes. This was the only way.
"Okay," he said. "How do I do this? What even is this? Am I learning to control it?"
"Nope," she said happily, her remorse gone. "You're going to exorcise it."
Sam felt a bite of anger. How was that supposed to help Dean? He could already exorcise demons, he'd done it more times that he could count, and she'd said herself that Lilith wouldn't be trapped, so how could he exorcise her? "That's a great idea and all, Ruby," he said, "but how am I supposed to make Lilith stand still long enough to let me get through the Latin?"
"No Latin needed," she said. "This is about your powers, Sam."
"His powers!" The demon snorted. "You're kidding, right? Winchester Junior is going to attempt to crack out the psychic gifts? Boy, am I glad I'm around to see this. I love to watch a hunter fail."
Sam ignored him. "How are my powers going to help?" He didn't like the word. It made him sound like some superhero obsessed nerd.
"You can use your powers to hold it," she said. "And then you can exorcise it. It's not going to be easy, you're going to need a lot of practice, but you'll get it eventually. This is in your blood, Sam."
Sam scowled at her. He hadn't told Dean about the demon blood Yellow-Eyes had fed him as a baby. He'd hardly been able to bear the knowledge himself, and he hated that Yellow-Eyes had shown him. He could have gone through his life without knowing that was in him and been a lot happier for it. And that… that was nothing compared to the knowledge of what that blood dripped into his mouth had really cost—Mary Winchester's life.
"How do I do it?" he asked.
She laughed harshly. "You think I know? I'm the demon here, Sam. You're the special one. You have to look inside yourself and find it. It's all there, waiting for you to try. Just reach down and do what feels right."
That was the problem. None of this felt right. He was doing what he'd sworn to himself he would never do—he was letting Yellow-Eyes win. He had killed that demon, beat it down and ended it, but its legacy apparently lived on.
He took a deep breath and looked the demon in the eye—staring into the endless black—and tried to see within him, to something he could hold onto and pin in place. He imagined he could see the column of smoke that was the demon's true self. He lifted his hand—it felt so right and natural to do it.
"Sam," Dean said quietly, shifting beside him.
"Shhh," Ruby said. "Let him work."
Sam's imagined grip on the smoke tightened. He focused everything he had on holding it, and then he felt the ax cleave through his skull. It was like a vision, but impossibly worse. It was agony so intense he couldn't stand it, despite his high threshold for pain. His knees buckled. He didn't even have a chance to break his fall with his hands. They were like dead things at his side. He fell facedown on the floor; his cheek pressed against the dirty tile and his eyes squinted shut.
He could hear voices and laughter, and he sensed someone looking at him, but he couldn't respond or open his eyes. An unknown amount of time later—it could have been seconds or hours—he was able to make out the voice speaking to him.
"Open your eyes, Sammy. Say something. For God's sake, do something!" The last was directed at someone else, because the direction of the voice had changed as if he had turned away.
"What am I supposed to do?" a female voice answered, Ruby. "I'm not a doctor."
"Dean," Sam moaned.
"Sam? Oh, thank God. Are you okay? Can you open your eyes?"
Sam lifted his head from the floor and forced his eyes open. Dean's face swam in his vision, expression concerned.
"M'fine," he said, pushing himself onto his knees and then his feet. He swayed dangerously, and a strong arm braced him around the back. It was Ruby's arm, he realized, because Dean was just getting up now. He checked himself, reassured he could stand unaided, and moved out of her space. Her hand dropped back to her side. "Thanks," he said.
"You're welcome."
"Welcome?" Dean said harshly. "Did you know that was going to happen?"
Ruby looked annoyed. "How could I? It's not like I've spent a lot of time, or any at all really, training the special children to fight demons. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I had no idea it would be… that."
"It's fine," Sam said, massaging his temples. "I can go again."
The demon laughed. "Yeah. Sure. Have another try. I enjoyed the last one."
Sam ignored him.
"Again?" Dean sounded furious. "Sam, you just almost gave yourself an aneurism. You really think we're letting you go again?"
"Not giving you a choice," Sam said, turning his attention back to the demon and raising his hand. He felt Dean's hand on his shoulder, trying to hold him, but he refused to move. He was going at this again, and he would keep going until it worked.
He didn't even last a few seconds the next time he tried before he was on the floor again and Dean was on his knees beside him. He squeezed his eyes shut against the light. A part of him registered the fact it wasn't quite so bad this time, but the warm trickle from his nose and Dean's panicked voice made him think it looked worse.
"Dammit," Ruby said bitterly. "This isn't going to work."
"Shut up, Ruby," Sam said in a groan, trying to get to his knees only to flop down again. "It'll work just fine." Pain he could deal with. He had plenty of times before. A life without his brother… He was never doing that again.
"Work. Turn you into a vegetable. Kill you. The possibilities are endless," the trapped demon said cheerfully. "I know which one I'm hoping for." He ran a finger across his neck. "Can I come to the funeral?"
"Shut it," Dean snarled.
Sam struggled to his feet again and straightened. This time when he raised his hand it was Ruby that was pushing it down and turning him. He found he couldn't resist her strength given his tremors and general feeling of weakness.
"Hate to say it, Sam," she said, "but you really do need to stop. You need rest, Tylenol, maybe a CT scan. Whatever you think'll help."
Sam glared at her. It wasn't like Dean needed to hear that given the fact he was already freaking.
"She's right," Dean said, sounding relieved to have an ally. "Let's find a motel so you can crash. You look like you're going to pass out."
Sam would have argued, he wanted to, but he thought there was a very real risk that if he kept going he was going down and staying down.
"We'll come back," he said firmly.
"Absolutely," Dean said. "Just as soon as you're recovered."
Except he didn't mean it. Sam could hear the lie in his voice. He was going to create hell when it came time to return. Sam could deal with that. He'd come alone. Maybe it would be easier without them there, if he didn't have to worry about Dean seeing him drop like a stone. And it had been easier the second time he went down. He recovered faster and the pain was marginally less.
"Ruby," Sam said. "You'll keep it on ice for me?"
"Sure. I'll keep an eye on him. You… rest or whatever."
Dean nodded his thanks to her and he made for the exit. Sam glowered at the trapped demon a moment longer then turned and followed.
As soon as Dean was sleeping, Sam would be back. He would do this no matter the cost.
Dean wasn't stupid. He didn't expect Sam to give it up after only a couple tries, but he had expected Sam to at least let him be there while he was trying, to help, to support, to flutter around uselessly when Sam crashed to the floor maybe, though that rarely happened anymore. The point was when he woke up one night, long into their stay in Nevada, he thought he'd find Sam in the bed beside his, sleeping and recovering from the evening's attempts with the demon. He didn't expect to find Sam's bed empty and a note saying, Had to run out for something. Be back soon. No worry.
Like Dean could not worry, especially as he was certain of where Sam had gone.
The Impala wasn't there so he had to make it across town on foot. It took him thirty minutes to get from their motel to the gas station and his annoyance with Sam increased with every step he took. It was tempered with a dose of fear, too—fear for his brother and what he was doing—so that by the time he was on the road the station was located on, he was jogging.
Ruby heard him coming. She met him outside by the Impala. Dean was pissed at her for keeping it a secret from him, too, as he was sure that this wasn't Sam's first early hours trip to the demon.
They hadn't recommenced their relationship, there had been no contact since that kiss at the warehouse that Sam had interrupted, but he'd thought there was trust between them, that she'd tell him if Sam was doing this without him.
"Dean," she greeted with no sign of discomfort in the face of his anger.
"What's he doing here?"
"What do you think? He's training himself to save your ass. And I have to say he's doing well. We had something of a breakthrough tonight. Come with me, and come quietly—I don't want him distracted."
Frowning, wondering what this breakthrough entailed, Dean followed her to where she stopped at the window. She wiped an arm over the grime coating the glass, and gestured for him to come closer. He stepped up and peered inside. Sam was standing with his back to the window, but it wasn't his brother that drew Dean's eye. It was the demon. He was still in the trap, but for once he wasn't standing at the very edge, leering and taunting. He was as far away from Sam as he could get within the trap, and he seemed to be choking on the smoke that trickled out of its mouth slowly.
"I'll be damned," Dean whispered. "He's doing it."
Ruby beamed at him. "Yeah he is. He's been working his ass off, but tonight was the first time he got even close to exorcising. Incredible, isn't he?"
"That's one word for it."
Dean turned his attention back to the window and watched as Sam clenched his fist and the smoke started to creep out faster. There was something wrong though, Sam's fist was shaking hard and his other hand came up to wipe at his face. When it dropped back to his side, Dean saw his palm was smeared with blood.
"That's enough," he said harshly. "He needs to stop."
He made for the door, but Ruby caught his arm to stop him. "Dean, you have to let him try."
"I've let him try," Dean said, "and he's doing it, but look at him." He gestured back to the window. "He's going to drop any minute."
"I know you hate this, but it's the only way…" Ruby started, but Dean had already ripped his arm out of her grip and pushed open the door.
He was right, Sam was about to drop. At the same time as Dean reached him, he went down like a sack of flour. Once again, Dean dropped down beside him. "Sam?"
Sam smiled a bloody lipped smile. "Did you see?"
"Yeah, I saw," Dean said.
"I can do it, Dean. I can really do it." He looked more than happy, he looked elated, triumphant, for all of a second before his eyes fell closed as he passed out.
They kept at it for another two weeks before Sam was forced to accept Ruby's suggestion that they meet away from the demon to talk. It hadn't been weeks of progress. After Sam's success drawing the little of the demon he had, he seemed to plateau. He couldn't progress past making the demon choke on itself for a few minutes before he had to stop. The good news was that he didn't pass out anymore, in fact most times he was able to keep his feet, but it was taking its toll on him. His eyes were permanently ringed with shadows and his skin was pale. Whatever it was in him that enabled him to do this, was taking it out on his body. Dean was worried.
Ruby came by their motel that evening to talk to them. She sat beside Dean at the table while Sam stood leaning against the wall, looking as tense as Dean felt.
"I have an idea," Ruby said slowly. "And I don't think you're going to like it." She was talking to Sam more than Dean.
"I don't know," Sam said. "I liked your last idea plenty. We're making real progress with the demon now. It's not nearly as painful as it was before. I really think I'll get it soon."
"I disagree," she said dourly. "It's been two weeks and you haven't progressed at all."
Sam scowled at her. "There's no timetable for this. We have no idea how long it'll take."
"There is a timetable though," she said, casting Dean a sideways glance. "We're working against a clock."
"We've got months," Dean wasn't worried about Sam failing. He had mastered so much already. He would get through the rest of it.
She crossed her arms over her chest. "Months, yes. But there's also a lot of work to do before then. Sam, you're not exorcising Lilith. You're killing her."
Dean gaped at her. "He can do that?"
"With practice and a little help, yes. It's going to take more than he's giving so far though. It'd be a lot harder to exorcise Lilith compared to a foot soldier and even harder to kill her. He needs help."
"What have you got in mind?" Sam asked, narrowing his eyes at her.
Ruby's mouth twisted into a grimace. "This is the part you won't like. It's a little witchy. I've made something, a… tonic I guess you'd call it. It's not exactly all natural, but it won't hurt you."
"You want me to drink a potion?" Sam asked. "You have to be joking."
"Sure I am," Ruby said sarcastically. "Of course it's not worth putting aside your prejudices for the sake of your brother's life."
"Don't you dare…" Sam growled.
"I dare," she said. "You're not the only one invested in saving Dean. I've been busting my butt to help you. I am helping you now. You need this, Sam, or you're never going to be strong enough to do it."
"What'll it do to him?" Dean asked.
"It'll power him up, that's all," she said. "It'll make it possible for him to tap into what's already there."
Sam turned away, shoulders set.
"You need this, Sam," she said. "Dean needs you to do this. You say you care. Prove it."
Sam spun on his heel, and for a moment Dean thought he was going to pull the knife on her. Instead, he held a hand out. "Hand it over."
"You'll do it?" Ruby asked, wide-eyed and excited.
"I'll do it."
"Sam, are you sure?" Dean asked.
Sam nodded.
Ruby reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver flask. She handed it to Sam and cautioned, "Only a little at first. You want to pace yourself. It's powerful."
"Are you sure this is safe?" Dean asked.
"Totally safe," she said. "This is what he needs."
Sam flipped the cap of the flask open and sucked in a breath. "Here goes nothing." He brought it to his lips and took a sip. He paused for a moment without swallowing, perhaps reacting to the taste, and then he spat it out in a spray.
"Sam! What?" Dean asked loudly, but Sam was already in motion. He dropped the flask on the table, then pulling the knife from his pocket he moved towards Ruby with fury in his eyes. Ruby didn't even try to talk this time, to bargain or reassure. One moment she was there, the next she was gone. Sam slammed the knife into the wall, bellowing a curse.
"What's wrong?" Dean asked, gripping his shoulders. "Talk to me."
In response Sam picked up the flask and tipped it up over the floor. The liquid that poured out was tinted red and thicker than water, like the chocolate milk Sam had loved as a child. There were flecks in it that Dean guessed were herbs or similar.
"What's in it?"
"Blood," Sam growled. "Demon blood. The bitch was trying to feed me demon blood again."
Sam threw the flask across the room and the drops of what remained—the damned blood—spattered against the wall. He'd known what it was as soon as it touched his tongue. Despite the herbs and other crap Ruby had used to conceal the taste, it was still there, coppery and slick. There had been no question of where the blood had come from either. It smelled like sulfur. Had it been her own blood or had she got it from their trapped pet?
It made perfect sense in a sick kind of way. Demon blood had given him the powers, more could only add to them. Sam hated it though. He had been prepared to give up himself to fuel these powers but the blood… Could he do that to himself after what it had cost to get the first dose he'd had as a baby? He had never felt so torn.
He turned and began pacing the length of their small room, his hands coming up to fist in his hair. He felt sick, repulsed, and so angry. He was filled with rage in a way he hadn't been in a long time.
Dean stepped into his path and was almost bowled over as Sam slammed into him. He hadn't even noticed him until they collided. Dean staggered back a couple steps until Sam's hands settled on his shoulders, steadying him.
"I'm sorry," Sam said stiffly.
"Sam, what's going on?" Dean asked. "What do you mean again?"
"You don't want to hear this." Dean didn't want to hear it and Sam didn't want to have to say it. He didn't want to admit to his brother just how different he really was, just how far from human. He didn't want to admit yet another crime against him.
"Probably not," Dean replied. "But I have a feeling I need to anyway."
Sam took two steps to the side and dropped hard onto the edge of his bed. He sagged. His shoulders slumped and his chin dropped to his chest. He clasped his hands loosely in his lap and stared at them.
Dean pulled one of the chairs around and sat opposite him. Not close enough to crowd him, but close enough that Sam knew he was there even though he was determinedly looking away, too ashamed to face him. He didn't want to do this. "Yellow-Eyes," he said eventually.
"What about him?
Sam fixed his gaze on his hands, on his scarred knuckles and crooked fingers. "When I was a baby, just six months, Yellow-Eyes came into my nursery and fed me demon blood. He dripped it out of his own damn wrist into my mouth. That's why I have these powers. He infected me with the blood and it changed me."
He glanced up quickly to see Dean's reaction, to gauge the disgust and hatred. Dean didn't look disgusted, though, and there was no hatred; he looked stunned and angry. He hadn't matched up the facts of the story, Sam could tell. He wasn't connecting the dots from six months old in nursery to dead mother.
"That's awful," Dean breathed. "Sam, I'm so sorry."
He was sorry. Wasn't that just the most tragic thing? Dean was feeling pity for Sam because he didn't yet understand what Sam had done, how he had made Dean an orphan by killing not only their father but their mother, too.
"Dean," Sam said quietly. "I was six months old. Exactly six months old."
Dean's eyes widened. "But that was when Mom…"
Sam nodded. "That was the night she died. Yellow-Eyes told me she interrupted him."
"So he killed her," Dean spat. "He dosed you with blood and killed her? I swear if that thing wasn't already dead…"
"I'm sorry," Sam said.
"Don't be. I'm glad it's dead. I wish it hadn't happened the way it did, I wish you hadn't been forced to… But never be sorry it's dead."
"No, I'm sorry about Mom. I'm sorry you lost her too because of—"
"I swear to God, Sam, if you try to apologize for 'killing' her, I'm going to lose my mind."
Sam raised his head slowly. "I know it's hard, but you have to listen to me. I am sorry."
Dean's eyes glinted with anger. Sam thought he was going to throw a punch. Instead he did something far worse; he softened his voice and said, "I should have done this a long time ago. I shouldn't have let it drag on, but I didn't want to force you into a conversation you weren't ready for. We're talking about this now though. Sam, I told you I forgave you for killing Dad. I lied. I don't forgive you." Sam flinched, but Dean went on mercilessly. "There is nothing to forgive. You did nothing wrong. You couldn't have stopped Dad making that deal."
"You don't understand," Sam said through his teeth. "You weren't there."
"No, I wasn't, but I know how he felt like when he did it, as I felt the same when I made my deal. He couldn't live in a world without you, so he saved you. I did the same thing. We both made that choice alone and nothing you could have said or done, even if you were physically able, would have made a damn bit of difference." His voice rose at the end, frustrated and angry. "You didn't kill him, and you didn't kill Mom. You were six months old! What blame can a baby have for what a demon decides to do?"
Sam had no answer. He knew Dean was wrong, it was his fault, but he didn't say anything.
Dean sighed. "And you don't believe me, do you? Dammit, Sam."
Sam wanted to believe, but he knew better. He had lured that demon into their home, and he had had killed their father. And if he didn't work harder, get better, he was going to fail Dean and there would be another death on his account. Another death of someone he loved.
Dean sucked in a breath, held it, and released it in a whoosh. "Fine. I know you don't want to hear it, but I am going to keep saying it every day until it gets through your thick skull. It was not your fault."
Sam smiled slightly. Dean was still as stubborn as he had ever been. He probably would say it every day. He could if he liked, but Sam would never believe, because he knew the truth.
Dean glowered at him and then shook his head. "Okay. The blood. Let's talk about that. You think it'd boost you up the way Yellow-Eyes' did?"
Sam nodded. "I think it'd do exactly that. But…" His words tangled in his mind. He didn't know how to tell Dean he couldn't do it. He couldn't drink demon blood.
"You can't do it," Dean said, and it wasn't disappointment in his voice, it was understanding. "You won't do it." It was a command now. "Promise me, Sam. You won't do it!"
"I won't do it," Sam said. "I will keep training with the demons. I will learn how to do it on my own. I will work harder. I can do this without that stuff in me."
Dean nodded, smiling slightly. "Good. Because nothing is worth that."
Sam agreed to a point. Almost nothing was worth that. Dean was the one exception. He was worth it. But Sam wasn't going to give in yet. He just had to work harder at it. That was all.
So… Lots happened in that chapter. Some psychic training, some demon blood, and a conversation about forgiveness that is about a year late. Hope it was entertaining to read.
Until next time…
Clowns or Midgets xxx –