Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, its characters or its plot. I DO own my OC Sabrina Moore and Ayami[Aya] I also own what I add to the plot and the whole thing with Sabrina.
The Sabrina Moore Chronicles Chapter 13 Born Under a Bad Sign
UNDERPASS - DAY
Dean is on his cell phone, leaning against his car. He is fidgeting, clearly upset. Sabrina stands beside him, looking worried.
"Ellen, it's me again. Any chance you've heard from him?" A pause. "I swear, it's like looking for my dad all over again. I'm losing my mind here." Another pause. "No, I've called him a thousand times, there's nothing but voicemail. I don't know where he went, or why. Sam's just gone." His cell beeped. "Hang on." The phone shows another incoming call - SAM'S CELL. He answers it. "Sammy? Where the hell are you? Are you okay?" Sabrina looked up and over to him. A short pause. "Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. Where are you? All right, don't move, we're on our way."
MOTEL - DAY
Sam hung up the phone slowly, looking numb. His knuckles were bloody. Dean drove to reach Sam, passing a sign reading TWIN LAKES; he arrived at the hotel and parked and he and Sabrina got out.
MOTEL - DAY
Dean and Sabrina walked frantically down a narrow hallway, checking door numbers until they reached room 109. Dean knocked.
"Sam, it's us. Sam!" He tried the door – it was open. Inside, Sam hasn't moved, still sitting numbly on one bed. "Sam? Hey."
"Hey, Dean…B-Bri." Dean and Sabrina kneeled beside him on either side
"Are you bleeding?"
"I tried to wash it off."
"Oh my god." He said seeing Sam's shirt covered in blood; he groped at it, searching for a wound.
"I don't think it's my blood."
"Whose is it?"
"I don't know."
"Sam, what the hell happened?"
"Dean. I don't remember anything." Sam said looking up. Sabrina stroked his cheek gently. He looked down at her.
"Oh Sammy."
Dean returned to the room, carrying a grocery bag. Sam had changed clothes and was looking a little less out of it.
"What'd you find out?" Sam asked.
"You checked in two days ago under the name Richard Sambora. Of course, I think the scariest part about this whole thing is the fact that you're a Bon Jovi fan,"
"Dean."
"Your room's been quiet, nobody's noticed anything unusual."
"You mean no one saw me walking around covered in blood?"
"Yeah. That's what I mean."
"Then how the hell did I get here, Dean? What happened to me?"
"I don't know. Alright But you're, you're okay, and that's what matters. Everything else we can deal with."
"Oh really? 'Cause what if I hurt someone? Or worse?"
"Sam . . ."
"What if this is what Dad warned you about?"
"Hey, whoa, whoa, come on man, let's not jump the gun here. We don't know what happened. We've just got to treat this like, like any other job. What's the last thing you remember?" Sam sat down on a bed.
"Just the three of us, just, in that motel room in West Texas, going out to grab some burgers, and..."
"West Texas? That was, that was over a week ago."
"That's it." Dean and Sabrina looked stunned. "Next thing I knew I was sitting here. Bloody. Felt like I'd been asleep for a month."
"Okay. Retrace your steps. The manager said you left yesterday afternoon and he never saw you come back, so," Dean pulled back the curtain; he found a bloody fingerprint on the window handle. "Hey."
MOTEL - DAY
The trio walked outside the motel. It was daylight, but raining.
"Recognize anything?" Dean asked.
"Not really." They went towards a parking garage out back. "Wait."
"What?"
"I think I was here."
"You remember?"
"Not really, it just feels familiar, you know?" Dean shrugged, went to the nearest garage. Sam looked over to the second and pointed. "Try that one. Yeah." Dean tugged on the padlock.
"Okay."
"Wait." Sam dug in his pocket, frowning. He pulled out a key, giving Dean a significant look. Dean opened the padlock with the key, raising his eyebrows at Sam. He pulled the garage door open to reveal a filthy, beat-up VW Beetle.
"Oh, please tell me you didn't steal this." Sam fidgeted. They went into the garage and opened both doors of the car, Sam on the driver's side. He touched the wheel, showed Dean his stained finger.
"More blood." Dean pointed.
"Sam. Back seat." Sam reached down, picked up a blood-stained knife that stuck to the floor of the backseat. He stared at it.
"You think I used this on someone?" Sam asked.
"I'm not thinking anything."
Sam looked around, rubbed the knife handle off on the inside of his jacket. Dean picked up a pack of cigarettes.
"Okay now, this is disturbing. Come on, man, this couldn't have been you. Had to have been someone else, someone who," He sniffed the pack. "smokes menthols."
"Here. Gas receipt. Few towns over."
GAS STATION - DAY
Sam, Sabrina and Dean pulled up in front of a small gas station.
"All right. Receipt's for ten gallons at pump number two. You getting any, uh, any goosebumps yet? God, this looks familiar, deja vu vibes?" Sam shook his head quietly. "Maybe someone inside will remember you. Come on." They went into the convenience store; the clerk looked up in shock, then anger.
"You. Outta here now, I'm calling the cops."
"You talking to him?"
"Yeah, I'm talking to him. Jerk comes in yesterday, stinking drunk, grabs a forty from the fridge, starts chugging it."
"This guy? You're drinking malt liquor?"
"Not after he whipped the friggin' bottle at my head."
"This guy?" Dean asked again.
"What, am I speaking Urdu?"
"Look, I'm really sorry if I did anything," Sam said.
"Tell your story walkin', pal. Po-po will be here in five."
"Wait, wait, put the phone down. Sam, go wait in the car." Dean said.
"But Dean,"
"Go wait in the car!" Sam sighed and left. "Okay, look, man. I just want to talk to you, that's it. Okay?" The clerk hung up. "Now, when he took off yesterday, where did he go?"
"Why don't you ask him?"
"'Cause I'm asking you. Now please, you'd be doing me a huge favor."
"Oh, do you a favor? Well, that is what I live for. You know, your buddy didn't pay for the booze. Okay? Or the smokes, which he also illegally lit up."
"You saw him smoking?"
"Yeah. Guy's a chimney." Dean cleared his throat and pulled his wallet out, places some bills on the desk.
"This, uh, ought to cover it."
"Hmm. It's, uh, it's coming back to me now. He took two packs."
"Of course he did." Dean took out more money.
"He went north. Route 71, straight out of town." Dean nodded, grabbed two candy bars, handing one to Sabrina, and left with a smirk.
ROAD - NIGHT
Dean was driving down a dark road, and Sam was staring out the window.
"What's going on with you, Sam? Hm? 'Cause smoking, throwing bottles at people, I mean, that sounds more like me than you."
"Dean, wait, right here. Turn down that road."
"What?"
"I don't know how I know, I just do." Dean turned down a back road and onto a private property. It was a large house with plenty of emergency lighting and security cameras outside. A light came on with a camera above it. "Whoever lives here, I'd say they don't like surprises."
"Should we knock?"
"Yeah, I guess." Dean knocked on the front door while Sam poked around the corner.
"Hey Dean." Sam waved his flashlight at a window; it was broken, the ledge covered in shattered glass.
"I'm surprised the cops didn't show. Place like this you'd think it'd have an alarm."
"Yeah, you would." Sam said finding a disabled alarm on the wall.
HOUSE - NIGHT
They went into the house; the floor was covered in broken glass and scattered items. In a back room, they come across a body on the floor.
"Get the lights." Dean said. Sam turned the lights on as Dean kneeled behind the body. He placed a hand on it and turned it over; it is a middle-aged man with a deeply cut throat; he was dead, his eyes staring. Dean put a hand over his own mouth; Sam looked horrified.
"Dean, I did this."
"We don't know that."
"What else do you need? I mean, how else do you explain the car, the knife, the blood,"
"I don't know, man, why don't you tell me?" There was a pause. "Look, even if you did do this I'm sure you had a good reason; you know, self-defense, uh, he was, he was a bad son of a bitch, something." He patted down the body. "He doesn't have any ID."
"I need your lockpick."
"What?"
"I need your lockpick." Sam took the lockpick and opened a double-door closet in the room. Inside the room, one wall was covered in firearms, the others in charts and clippings.
"Either this guy's a Unabomber,"
"Or a hunter. Dean, I think I killed a hunter." Dean noticed a security camera.
"Let's find out."
Sam was sitting in front of the desktop computer, Dean and Sabrina standing behind. He cued up the security tape.
"Here we go." Dean said. On the tape, Sam was fighting the same man who lay dead on the floor behind them. The fight moved off camera and Sam dragged the man back into the frame; he kneeled, the man pulled up against his legs, and slit his throat. Sam stared in shock as Dean pulled back from the screen and stood straight. Sabrina had a hand over her mouth. Sam had his eye downcast.
Sam was sitting at the computer desk staring at a letter, addressed to 'dad' presumably the hunter, in his hand; Dean and Sabrina bustled around behind him, cleaning up.
"How do you erase this? Huh? Sam, come on, I need your help."
"I killed him, Dean. I just broke in and killed him."
"Listen to me. Whoever this guy is, he's a hunter. Which means that other hunters are going to come looking for his killer, which means we've got to cover our tracks, okay?"
"His name was Steve Wandell. This is a letter from his daughter." Dean looked from Sam to the letter, then made a decision. He grabbed the CPU, lifted it above his head, and smashed it to the floor, stomping it with his boots for good measure.
"Wipe your prints, then we go."
Motel Room - EVENING
Sam preceded Dean and Sabrina into the motel room.
"All right, we get a couple hours sleep and then we put this place in our rearview mirror. Look, I know this is bad, okay? You've gotta snap out of it. Sam, say something!"
"Just get some sleep and leave in the morning? Murder, Dean. That's what I did."
"Maybe." Dean said and Sam scoffed. "Okay? Hey, we don't know... shapeshifter!"
"Oh, come on. You know it wasn't, you saw the tape. There was no eye flare, no distortion,"
"Yeah, but it wasn't you! All right? I mean, yeah, it might have been you, but it wasn't you."
"Well, I think it was." Sam sat down on the bed. "I think maybe more than you know."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"For the last few weeks I've been having... I've been having these feelings."
"What feelings?"
"Rage. Hate. And I can't stop it. It just gets worse. Day by day it gets worse."
"You never told us this."
"I didn't want to scare you."
"Well, bang-up job on that."
"Dean, the yellow-eyed demon, you know he has plans for me. And we know that he's turned other children into killers before, too."
"No one can control you but you."
"It sure doesn't seem like that, Dean, it feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely I'm, I'm just becoming..."
"What?"
"Who I'm meant to be. I mean, you said it once yourself, Dean. I gotta face up to who I am."
"I didn't mean this!"
"But it's still true. You know that. Dad knew that too, that's why he told you, if it ever came to this . . ."
"Shut up, Sam."
"Dean, you promised him. You promised me."
"No. Listen to me. We're going to figure this out. Okay? I mean, there's got to be a way, right?"
"Yeah, there is." Sam took a handgun from his duffel and shoved it at Dean. "I don't want to hurt anyone else. I don't want to hurt you or Bri."
"You won't. Whatever this is, you can fight it."
"No." Sam said tearing up. "I can't. Not forever. Here, you gotta do it." They stared at each other for a long moment; then Sam grabbed Dean's right hand and placed the gun in it. Dean didn't move, just stared as Sam in shock.
"You know, I've tried too hard to keep you safe."
"I know." Sam said nodding.
"I can't. I'd rather die." Dean dropped the gun on the bed and shouldered past Sam.
"No. You'll live." Sam picked up the gun as Dean turned to face him. "You'll live to regret this." He pistol-whipped Dean, who fell to the floor unconscious. Sabrina stood up.
"Sam?!"
Let me out!
Sabrina closed her eyes quickly and Aya came out. Sam grabbed her and tossed her onto the bed. She found herself unable to move.
"Seriously?!" He left the room and Aya growled. "I'm gunna kill that boy."
Dean awoke to the sound of knocking. Dean opened his eye and realized that he was on the floor of the motel room.
"Dean, help me." Aya hissed.
"Aya?" He asked, hearing the accent. Dean got up, very groggy. "Help you what?"
"Pull me off the bed." He gave her a look but pulled her up. She stood up and folded back the covers of the bed to show a devil's trap. "I'm going to kill him." She growled covering it again. The motel manager, who has been knocking, opened the door.
"Hey. It's past your checkout." The manager said.
"What?" Dean asked.
"It's past checkout, and I've got a couple here needs your room."
"Yeah, I'll bet they do." Dean said seeing an embarrassed businessman with a hooker. "What time is it?
"Twelve-thirty."
"That guy who was with us, have you seen him?"
"Yeah, he left before dawn in your car, and you should have gone with him, because now I'm going to have to charge you extra."
"Oh, son of a..." Dean muttered.
"It's just policy, sir."
"I need to use your computer."
"Now, why would I let you use my computer?"
MOTEL LOBBY - DAY
The manager was counting a stack of cash, as Dean talked on the phone behind him, in front of a desktop computer. Aya leaned against the counter, arms crossed.
"Hi, uh, so sorry to bother you, but uh, my son snuck out of the house last night and, uh, went to a Justin Timberlake concert." There was a pause. "What? Yeah. No, Justin is quite the triple threat. Uh, anyway, he's not back yet, and, and I'm just, I'm starting to worry." Another paused. "Right. Yeah, boys will be boys. But see, Sammy is a diabetic, and uh, if he doesn't get his insulin, I just, I have to find him. Please, I'm begging you. Yeah, no, no, no, I'm on the web site right now, I just need to activate the GDS in his cell phone." Dean entered a password. "Yeah, right there. Duluth, Minnesota. Yeah, that is a long way to go for a concert. I appreciate your help."
JO'S BAR- NIGHT
Jo was scrubbing the bar and saying goodnight to some customers.
"Good night, thank you." Sam entered and cleared his throat. "Sorry, we're closing up." Jo said, her back to him.
"How about just one for the road?" She turned to face him.
"Well, you're about the last person I'd expect to see."
"Well, I guess I'm full of surprises. So can I get a beer?"
"Sure. One beer." Jo brought a bottle of beer over and set it down on the bar firmly, then turned away, bustling over cleaning up the bar. "So how'd you find me?"
"Well, uh, it's kind of what we do, you know?"
"Speaking of 'we', where're Dean and Sabrina?"
"Couldn't make it."
"So what are you doing here, Sam? I mean, we didn't exactly part on the best of terms."
"Right. Um, well, that's why I'm here. I kind of, I wanted to see if we could square things, you know?" As Sam took off his jacket, Jo noticed a circular burn mark with a short line through it on Sam's forearm.
"That looks like it hurts."
"No. No, just, just had a run-in with a hot stove."
"So you were saying something about squaring things?"
"Yeah. Um. Look, I know how you feel about my dad. And I can't say I blame you. He was obsessed. consumed with hunting; and he didn't care who got caught in the cross-fire. And I guess that included your dad. But that was my father, that's not me."
"What about Dean?"
"Well, Dean's more like my father than I am, but . . ." He noticed the look she had on her face. "Boy. You're really carrying a torch for him, aren't you?" Jo scoffed, uncomfortably. "I'll take that as a yes. It's too bad. 'Cause see, Dean, he likes you, sure, but not in the way you'd want. I mean, maybe as kind of a . . . a little sister, you know? But romance — that's just out of the question, he" Sam laughed. "he kind of thinks you're a schoolgirl, you know? He's much more into Sabrina. I mean the looks he gives her when she's not looking." A pause. "I'm not trying to hurt you, Jo, I, I'm telling you because I care."
"Well, that's real kind of you, Sam."
"I mean it." He placed a hand over hers on the bar, possessively. "I care about you a lot."
"Sam, what's going on?"
"I can be more to you, Jo."
"Maybe you should leave."
"Okay." He shoved her hand away and stood to leave; she turned to face the bar, leaning on it heavily. Suddenly Sam reappeared, grabbing her from behind and manhandling her.
"Sam, get off me! Sam, get off me! Sam!" She closed her right hand on a beer bottle, but before she could hit him with it he grabbed her wrist and slammed it onto the bar, shattering the bottle.
"Jo, Jo, Jo." He shoved her around until she faced the bar and pinned her there, left hand over her wrist, right hand stroking her hair.
"Sam, no, no! Please! Please!" He slammed her forehead into the bar; she was knocked out, and he lifted her carefully to lie on the bar, stroking her hair in a disturbingly gentle manner.
"It didn't have to be this way. Or maybe it did."
BAR - NIGHT
A clunky record player switched on and started playing The Doors' "Crystal Ship". Nearby, Sam was tying Jo in a sitting position to a wide wooden post. She slowly woke up.
"What the hell is going on? What are you doing?"
"So what exactly did your mom tell you about how your dad died?"
"You're not Sam."
"Don't be so sure about that. Answer the question." Jo said nothing; Sam sighed heavily and went around to the other side; he sat in front of her, leaning in, his expression shifting to one of open concern. He pulled out a large knife and stroked her face with it. "Come on. It's me. You can tell me anything, you know that. Answer. The question."
"Fine."
"Fine."
"Our dads were in California: Devil's Gate Reservoir. They were setting a trap for some kind of Hell spawn. John was hiding, waiting, and my dad was bait." Sam laughed.
"That's just like John. Oh, I'll bet he dangled Bill like meat on a hook. Then what?" He got up and went around to stand behind her.
"The thing showed up. John got too eager, jumped out too soon, got my dad exposed out in the open. The thing turned around and killed him." Sam leaned in.
"Hmm. Not quite."
"What?"
"What? Oh. See, it hurt him. It didn't kill him. You really don't know the truth, do you? I'll bet your mom doesn't either." Sam sat facing her again, leaned in close.
"Know what?"
"You see, Bill was all clawed up. Holding his insides in his hands. He was gurgling and praying to see you and Ellen one more time. So my dad . . . killed him. Put him out of his misery like a sick dog."
"You're lying."
"I'm not, it's true." Sam said then said in quiet sing-song. "My daddy shot your daddy in the head. . ."
"How could you know that?"
"I hear things." He stood and stabbed the knife into the pillar, just above head level.
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"Like Daddy like daughter. You're bait. Open up." He shoved a knotted rag in her mouth and tied it around her neck. "That's a girl." The door burst open and Dean entered, gun out with Aya behind him.
"Sam!" Sam grabbed the knife from the pillar, his calm expression shifting to one of desperate panic, and placed the knife at Jo's throat.
"I begged you to stop me, Dean." Sam said.
"Put the knife down, damnit."
"I told you I can't fight it! My head feels like it's on fire, all right?! Dean. Kill me, or I'm going to kill her. Please. You've be doing me a favor! Shoot me." He turned to face Dean, arms spread. "Shoot me!"
"No, Sammy, come on." He turned away, lowering the gun.
"What the hell's wrong with you, Dean? Are you that scared of being alone that you'd rather let Jo die? What if I go after Sabrina next?!" Dean turned suddenly, flinging water from a flask at Sam; the water hissed and steamed as it struck him.
"That's holy water, you demonic son of a bitch!" Sam raised his head; his eyes were the solid black of a demon's. Dean flung more holy water at him; Sam growled, turned and ran, bursting through a window and fleeing. Aya took off after him. Dean took the knife and cut Jo free; she pulled the gag out of her mouth as Dean ran towards the shattered window.
"He was possessed?!" Dean turned and stared at her for a moment, then leaped through the window. "Dean!"
WAREHOUSE - NIGHT
Dean, Aya and Possessed-Sam stalked each other through a dim, crowded warehouse, each brother with a handgun. They never see each other directly, instead hiding stealthily behind piles and boxes and shouting at each other.
"So who are you?" Dean asked.
"I got lots of names."
"You've been in Sam since he disappeared, haven't you?"
"You should have seen your faces when you thought he murdered that guy. Pathetic."
"Why didn't you kill me or Sabrina? You had a dozen chances." Possessed-Sam threw something to throw Dean off.
"No, that would have been too easy. Where's the fun in that? See, this was a test. Wanted to see if I could push you far enough to waste Sam. Should have known you wouldn't have the sac. Anyway. Fun's over now."
"Well, I hope you got your kicks. Because you're gonna pay hell for this, I'm gonna make sure of that."
"How? You can't hurt me. Not without hurting your little brother. See, I think you're gonna die, Dean. You, Sabrina, and every other hunter I can find." Dean put away his gun and took out his flask. "One look as Sam's dewey, sensitive eyes? They'll let me right in their door." Possessed-Sam led Dean outside, to an open-air dock. Once he was out in the open, looking around, Sam stepped out, took aim, and shot Dean, hitting him in the shoulder. Dean collapsed into the water with a splash; Sam stalked to the edge and peered over where Dean fell; he smiled. Aya suddenly lunged at him. He turned around and grabbed her wrists. "Ayami, nice to see you again. We didn't get to chat last time." She glared at him.
"You fuc-"
"Hey language." She glared at him. "Now what to do with you." Suddenly he got an idea after looking through Sam's memories. "They have a seal on their trunk, huh?" He smirked and she snarled at him.
DOCKS - NIGHT
Jo was walking quickly through the docks, a flashlight in one hand and her cell phone in the other; she was calling Dean, and his voicemail picked up:
"This is Dean. Leave a message."
Jo hung up the phone with a sigh and continued searching. Moments later she called again, and this time heard Dean's ringtone coming from below her, by the water. She ran down to where he was lying unconscious at the bottom of a ramp.
"Dean! Dean!" He woke with a groan. "Take it easy."
"Where's Sam?" He asked shuddering and groaning in pain. "And Sabrina."
"I don't know, I've been looking for you. Come on, get up." She helped him to stand, and he leaned on her heavily, clutching his shoulder, as they walked back to the bar.
BAR - NIGHT
Dean was seated at a table, gripping the edge with his right hand as Jo dug the bullet out of his left shoulder. He was groaning loudly."
"Don't be a baby!"
"God!"
"Almost. All right, got it. Got it." She dropped the bloodstained bullet in a glass of clear alcohol. Dean took a few healthy swigs from a bottle of whiskey.
"God, you're a butcher."
"You're welcome." She said sarcastically.
"All right, are we done?"
"Would you give me two minutes to patch you up? You can't help Sam if you're bleeding to death." She continued layering gauze and tape over the wound. "So, how did you know? That he was possessed?"
"Uh, I didn't, Ay- Sabrina figured it couldn't have been him."
"Do you think she's okay? Do you think he has her?"
"She's fine; even if he did she'd be okay."
"How can you be so sure?"
"She's… got something to protect her."
"Hey, Dean."
"Yeah?"
"I know demons lie, but do they ever tell the truth too?"
"Uh, um, yeah, sometimes, I guess. Especially if they know it'll mess with your head. Why do you ask?"
"Nothing. Doesn't matter. So do you have any idea where he's headed to next?"
"Well, so far he's been going after the nearest hunter, so . . . closest one I know lives in South Dakota."
"Okay good, I'm done. Let's go."
"Yeah. You're not coming."
"The hell I'm not. I'm a part of this now."
"I can't say it more plain than this. You try to follow me and I'll tie you right back to that post and leave you here. This is my fight. I'm not getting your blood on my hands. That's just how it's gonna be."
"Wait." He turned back, and she handed out a prescription pill bottle. "Here. Take these, they'll help with the pain."
"Thanks. I'll call you later, okay?"
"No you won't." She said after Dean was gone.
ROAD - NIGHT
It was raining as Dean drove down a dark stretch of road; he dialed a number on his cell. Elsewhere a phone rang several times, until Possessed-Sam cut the phone line running outside the house. Dean looked at his phone and sighed.
"Damnit."
HOUSE - NIGHT
Sam walked slowly up the steps to the house and knocked on the door. The door opened.
"Sam!" Bobby said grinning.
"Hey, Bobby."
"It's been a while." Sam grinned sheepishly. "Well, come on in." Sam entered slowly, glancing at the ceiling, and Bobby shut the door behind him. They walked together into Bobby's study, which was dimly lit and covered wall to wall with stacks of books and papers. "So what brings you?"
"Working a job nearby, and thought I'd stop in and say hey."
"Well, where's Dean and Sabrina?" Sam laughed.
"I thought I'd give them some alone time." Bobby went into the back room; Sam, left alone, eyed the ceiling again.
"Oh yeah?"
"You ask me, he's in way over his head." His eyes clouded over black for a moment. Bobby returned with a beer in each hand; he handed one to Sam.
"Well, it's good to see you." He raised his bottle. "To John."
"To Dad." They toast and swig the beer, Sam turning to look up at the ceiling again; as he swallowed the beer he choked suddenly, falling to his hands and knees and hiss-coughing painfully. Bobby sipped his beer, unconcerned. "What'd you do?!"
"A little holy water in the beer. Sam never would have noticed. But then, you're not Sam are you. Don't try to con a con man." He slammed his fist into Sam's face, knocking him out. Suddenly Sam's phone made a noise. Bobby frowned, reaching into his pocket and pulling it out.
-Sabrina.M-
Left me with Sabrina's phone dumbass. I already called Dean to get me out of the f-ing trunk!
Bobby's eyebrows went up.
"Huh." Bobby got to work and a few minutes later Dean showed up. He looked at Sam then Bobby. He made a 'gimmie' motion with his hand.
"Keys. I got a very pissed demon-chick in the trunk of my car."
"I know." Bobby said before tossing Dean the keys.
Sam-demon was tied to a chair, before a fire and under the very same protective circle used on Meg. Dean smacked him in the face to wake him.
"Hey." Sam looked up, saw the painted Devil's Trap.
"Dean. back from the dead. 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?"
"Oh, careful, now. Wouldn't want to bruise this fine packaging."
"Oh don't worry, this isn't gonna hurt Sam much." Turned to pick up a bucket. "You, on the other hand," Dean tossed a bucketful of holy water on Sam, who sizzled and screamed. "Feel like talking now?"
"Sam's still my meat puppet. I'll make him bite off his tongue."
"No, you won't be in him long enough. Bobby."
"Exorcisamus te, omnes in mundus spiritus omnes satanica potestas, omnes incursio ..."
"See, whatever bitch-boy master plan you demons are cooking up?" Dean said over Bobby. "You're not getting Sam. You understand me? Because I'm gonna kill every one of you first."
Sam struggled painfully, then threw back his head and cackled. Bobby cut off in surprise.
"You really think that's what this is about? The master plan? I don't give a rat's ass about the master plan." Bobby continued.
"Humiliares sub potente magnu dei..."
"Oops. Doesn't seem to be working. See, I learned a few new tricks." Sam said. He lowered his head and began growling Latin. "Spiritus in mundus un glorum suarum umitite palatum iram domine ... " The fire behind him flared and the room shook as he continued.
"This isn't going like I pictured! What's going on, Bobby?" Dean asked. Bobby noticed the burn mark on Sam's arm.
"It's a binding link! It's like a lock! He's locked himself inside Sam's body!"
"What the hell do we do?"
"I don't know!"
"Aya!" Dean called and she ran inside – she was outside the room so the exorcism wouldn't affect her, they didn't know if it could but just to be sure –. Sam threw back his head and screamed; the shaking walls and ceilings began to crack, breaking the protective circle. Sam's eyes were black as he lowered his head.
"There. That's better." He jerked his head left; Bobby went flying. He jerked his head right; Dean went flying, landing heavily against the far wall. The holy water flask fell from Dean's hand. Sam jerked his head up and Aya hit the ceiling with a yelp before hitting the floor. Sam ripped free of the restraints and stalked over to Dean. "You know when people want to describe the worse possible thing? They say it's like hell." Sam kneeled in front of Dean, fisting his left hand in Dean's shirt and clocking him hard with a right jab. Dean grabbed onto Sam's shirt with his right hand. "You know there's a reason for that. Hell is like, um," He hit Dean again. "Well, it's like hell. Even for demons." He hit him again; Dean was groggy and bleeding heavily from his nose. "It's a prison, made of bone and flesh and blood and fear;" He hit him again; then grabbed Dean's head, holding it steady. "And you sent me back there."
"Meg." Dean sneered.
"No. Not anymore. Now I'm Sam." He hit him one last time; then dug his right thumb into Dean's bullet wound. "By the way. I saw your Dad there - he says "howdy". " He dug in further; Dean tried to pull Sam's hand away, groaning in pain. "All that I had to hold onto was that I would climb out one day, and that I was going to torture you, nice and slow. Like pulling the wings off an insect." He shoved Dean's grasping hand away. "But whatever I do to you, it's nothing compared to what you'll do to yourself, is it? I can see it in your eyes, Dean. You're worthless. You couldn't save your Dad, and deep down you know that you can't save your brother. They'd have been better off without you." Sam reared back to hit Dean again; suddenly Bobby and Aya were there. Aya grabbed Sam's arm while Bobby pressed a hot poker into the mark on Sam's arm; he screamed in pain, then again as black demon smoke billowed out of him and up the chimney. Sam fell back, scrabbling and looking around in confusion, then grabbed his arm in sudden pain. Dean pulled himself up painfully.
"Sammy?
"Did I miss anything? Dean reared back and right-hooked Sam in the cheek then rolled his eyes and collapsed. Sam grabbed his cheek in confusion. Aya let out a breath and put her hands on her knees.
BOBBY'S HOUSE - NIGHT
Sam was sitting behind Bobby's table with an icepack on his arm; Dean was on the other side of the table groggily holding an icebag to his face while Aya held one to the back of her neck –when Meg threw her up to the ceiling she slammed pretty hard, of course Aya felt fine but she figured she'd be nice to Sabrina.
"By the way, you really look like crap, Dean." Sam said cautiously.
"Yeah, right back atcha." Bobby walked in slowly, looking concerned.
"What is it, Bobby?" Sam asked.
"You boys ever hear of a hunter named Steve Wandell?
"Why do you ask?" Dean asked.
"Just heard from a friend. Wandell's dead. Murdered in his own house. You wouldn't know anything about that."
"No sir, never heard of the guy."
"Dean." Sam said.
"Good. Keep it that way. Wandell's buddies are looking for someone or something to string up, and they're not going to slow down to listen to reason. You understand what I'm saying?"
"We'd better hit the road."
"Here. Take these." He handed each of them a small metal charm.
"What are they?" Sam asked.
"Charms. They'll fend off possession. That demon's still out there; this'll stop it from getting back up in you."
"That sounds vaguely dirty, but uh, thanks." Dean said. Aya chuckled.
"You're welcome. You boys be careful now."
"You too." Sam said. At the door, Dean tossed the icebag back to Bobby.
ROAD - NIGHT
Dean was driving down a dark stretch of highway; REO Speedwagon's "Back on the Road Again" played. Sam was frowning quietly, and Dean glanced over in concern.
"You okay? Sam? Is that you in there?"
"I was awake for some of it, Dean. I watched myself kill Wandell with my own two hands; I saw the light go out in his eyes."
"That must have been awful."
"That's not my point. I almost carved up Jo too. But no matter what I did, you wouldn't shoot."
"It was the right move, Sam, it wasn't you."
"Yeah, this time. What about next time?"
"Sam, when Dad told me that I might have to kill you, it was only if I couldn't save you. Now, if it's the last thing I do I'm going to save you and I'm sure Sabrina will agree with me." He looked back at Aya.
"Mhm." She hummed nodding.. After a pause, Dean laughed softly.
"What?" Sam asked.
"Nothing."
"Dean, what?"
"Dude, you, you like, full-on had a girl inside you for like a whole week." He laughed. "That's pretty naughty." Sam's frown cracked, and he laughed with Dean.
"I could give you a go." Aya said to Dean.
"No offence Aya, I like Sabrina more than you."
"I know you like her." She teased.
"Plus that would kill her so I suggest you don't." He said ignoring her last comment.
"She wouldn't object to me using her body." He looked in the rear view mirror and looked at Aya who was smirking. She winked and Dean swallowed. He pushed a few images out of his head and looked back at the road. Sam glanced back at her and she flashed him a smile.
I hope everyone has a very Happy safe Thanksgiving tomorrow. Next one out tomorrow. (I don't not post on holidays lol)