Chapter 14 – The Dead of Winter
"Son of a bitch," Bobby whispered hoarsely. He didn't bother to close the cell. He leaned against the Chevelle's steering wheel. All the color drained out of Bobby's face. He looked even paler underneath the too bright overhead lights of the U-Pump-It Gas and Go.
Oh, God, please, not Dean, Sam thought wildly. Please, not…
"Gordon Walker and his crew caught up with Dean at Mathaney's Bar, two hours out from here," Bobby said tonelessly. "Walker's dead. Dean killed him. Then he torched the place."
Sam blinked.
I let him live once before, Sam. Dean's voice echoed inside Sam's head. Not gonna make that same mistake again.
The only reason Dean didn't kill Gordon that time was because Sam talked him out of it. Never mind that Sam was bloody and battered from fighting Gordon. Never mind that Gordon kidnapped Dean and used him as bait to lure Sam in.
Sam was evil. Sam was the AntiChrist.
"If I was the freakin' AntiChrist, you stupid sonofabitch," Sam wanted to yell at Gordon, "do you really think I'd let you take my brother? You really think I wouldn't use my powers and wipe your sorry ass off the face of the planet?"
Bobby sat there for a moment staring into space. Traffic flashed by them on the highway. It was late. They were always two steps behind Dean, and it never got any better.
After a while Bobby turned on the ignition, and watched for traffic as he pulled out onto the road.
Sam sat there in silence. Gordon Walker was dead, and God help him, Sam didn't care about Gordon.
Sam was worried about Dean.
Dean drifted, halfway between sleep and wakefulness. Draco curled just underneath Dean's skin. Dude was purring, just like an oversized kitten or something. It was a contented sound that made Dean's skin shiver and tremble slightly, but in a good way. He felt relaxed and loose.
Nancy ran her long slim fingers over his skin, traced the outline of the dragon over his lean, hard muscles. She leaned in, kissed and nipped at the side of Dean's neck. She laid down a line of kisses up to his right earlobe, ran her tongue around the shell of his ear. Dean grunted a little, and Nancy's eyes sparkled mischievously as she lowered her head, ran her tongue down the outline of the tat, across Dean's broad shoulders, and his back.
It took a moment or two before Dean recognized what he was feeling.
Peace.
He was at peace. It was nine kinds of crazy.
He was hurt in a hit and run accident almost a month ago. Ended up at County General, arguably the most haunted hospital in America. His perception had been altered by that head injury of his, and he could see all kinds of spooks and fuglies he couldn't see before. Not to mention the fact that he could now move things just by thinking about it. He'd made a deal with a centuries old demon, supposedly to save Sam and Bobby from being horribly killed; allowed the thing to feed off his fears and memories; injured and maimed, killed even, fellow humans --- hunters --- and now he felt peaceful inside. Warm and protected, yet powerful.
Son of a bitch.
Dean listened to Draco purr, Nancy's delighted laugh as she explored his body. It was nice. Nice to be wanted like this. They'd never leave him. Never. Not like Dad did. All those times when Dean would wake up in the middle of the night, only to find a note on his nightstand or more likely, a voicemail message on his cell. "Stay put until I get back" or "I want you to go here and do that."
Go fetch boy, that's it. Fetch the stick. That's a good little trained dog.
Even worse were the times when he actually woke up while Dad was preparing to ditch him. John Winchester moved as silently as a ghost, but he'd trained Dean to hunt ghosts. John hardly made any noise, but Dean would sometimes wake up anyway. He'd lay there on his side, careful to keep right on breathing, slow and steady, even though his heart pounded away at his ribcage like a panicked, wounded animal, even though the metallic taste of fear flooded his mouth and Dean wanted to open his eyes and sit up and ask, no, beg Dad not to leave him like this.
Is there something wrong with me, Dad? Is that why you keep leaving me like this?
Dean wanted to ask, but he never did. Part of it was pride.
Part of it was fear that Dad would look at him with thinly disguised disgust and keep right on packing. Right on leaving. Time after time again.
Maybe Dad knew he was awake sometimes but none of it really fucking mattered. Dean would pretend to roll over in his sleep, put his back to John, and if John knew Dean was really awake maybe the old man thought Dean was really giving him permission.
Bullshit. Dean laid there with his eyes shut, and he wouldn't open them until he heard the rumble of the girl's engine.
Sometimes his face got wet, and he didn't want to think about why.
And Sam? The arguments between him and Dad had gotten steadily worse through the years. Sam went running off to Stanford, chasing normal, when there was no such thing. Normal was anywhere that Dean wasn't. Dean got it. Only thing was, normal was weak. Normal could be killed in a heartbeat. First Mom. And then Jess. Sam came running back, all right, took up the hunt, and there was no doubt in Dean's mind that the kid was gonna ditch him just like Dad did, the moment that yellow-eyed bastard was dead.
hen they hunted that clown rakshasha at Cooper's Carnival, Sam told old man Cooper that he didn't want normal.
That was a friggin' lie. Dean suspected it then, and he knew it now. Thing was, he didn't realize at the time that this deal was going to work out so well for him. This was his. Something all of his own. He was light years away from normal now, and that suited Dean just fine. Normal didn't feel this good. Normal didn't feel this right.
Anguigena, Draco smiled lazily. He actually liked being called Dragon's child now. Draco's tone was warm, possessive. Mine now. Mine always.
Dean had no problem with that.
Nancy nuzzled the small of Dean's back, just above where the dragon's tail began to twist and curl. Dean lifted himself up, moved so fast she gave a slightly startled gasp. He moved like a cat, graceful, fluid. Before she knew it they laid side by side, face to face. Nancy arched her back and slowly ground her body against his. She traced his full lips with the tip of her tongue. The kiss deepened as Dean
pulled her in even closer. Kissing Nancy was like savoring a fresh, ripe strawberry.
Ah, Dean? Draco sounded tentative at best. Almost as though he were about to ask a favor, instead of making a demand, as was his right.
Dude, you need to work on your timing, Dean drawled inside his head. Nancy sighed contentedly as he kissed the pulse point underneath her jaw.
There is something I forgot to mention. Something else we need to acquire for Nu-Kua.
Really? What? Dean worked his way down the long, sleek line of Nancy's neck as she arched against him.
Precious stones. Jewels. Diamonds. Emeralds.
You're…you're kidding, right?
No. Nu-Kua will expect an offering such as this. The more extravagant, the better. It is the custom among my people, especially following a long separation like the one we endured. It is her right. She will demand it.
Dean sighed. You are aware that it's past midnight, right?
Will you deny me this? Draco tensed underneath Dean's skin. The dragon tat shrunk, all around Dean's shoulders and back, pulling his skin and muscles tight and flat against his bones. It was not a comfortable feeling.
Dean pulled back, with Nancy still in his arms. Her eyes widened, but she lay there quietly. It was almost as though she knew the conversation between Dean and Draco was taking place.
No. Never. The tat loosened up almost immediately. That warm glow flooded Dean's body, from the top of his head on down, so overwhelming it made his toes curl up. Draco was pleased. You got any idea where we can find a high end jewelry store around here?
Yes. There is a…a mall nearby. The word mall sounded alien coming from Draco.
Dean snorted. Dude. You're like the Yellow Pages now or somethin'?
I can smell rubies. Sapphires. I can sense them in the air. Draco gave a mental shrug. It's a paltry selection. Meager compared to what I have gifted her with in the past. It would not be what my mate is accustomed to, but it would be a start. Nu-Kua would be pleased. Such a modest gift would turn aside her wrath.
Her wrath, huh? All right then. Dean looked at Nancy and smirked."I gotta go shopping."
He dipped his head down, kissed gently at her collarbone. Nancy shuddered with pleasure as she arched against him and Dean's smirk got even wider. "What kind of jewelry do you like, darlin'?" Dean whispered into her skin.
Across the street Gus shook his head. I may be drunk, he thought muzzily, but I ain't stupid. That's not right.
He stood there swaying from side to side as he watched this long white fogsnakething glide into that alleyway by those abandoned apartment buildings. Been a helluva night so far. Maybe it was Jack Daniels talking, but Gus felt incredibly brave and powerful right about now, like he could kick Superman's ass. And this? Hell, it was only fog.
Water vapor. Tiny liquid water droplets in the air. Gus laughed to himself. Hygroscopic. That was a word for ya. Yeah, he remembered some of the stuff from his high school science class.
High school. Heh. Damn, he hated that fucking place. Gus hiccuped noisily as he staggered across the street.
Better get my ass home. 'm a busy man…din't…don't… have time to in…invest…investrigate some freaky na'ural phenom…prenomenon…oh hell…you know what 'm talkin' about...
The rest of Gus' muddled brain didn't have a clue.
Thing was, he didn't even go near the alley. Next thing he knew something long and white whipped out of the darkness and wrapped itself around his ankles.
Basterd. Gus tried to kick it off and he couldn't. He couldn't remember how he ended up in the alley on his back with that white fog all around him, He tried to say something, and that was when the fogsnakething rushed into his open mouth and down his throat.
It was a warm summer night, and Gus froze to death.
Nancy shrugged into Dean's black t shirt just as Dean pulled on his black boxer briefs. She looked good wearing the shirt. Dean's eyes actually softened a little whenever he looked at her.
Dean slipped his jeans on just as Nancy came up and embraced him from behind.
"Babe, you want your shirt back?" she murmured softly. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his left shoulder blade.
"Nah. Won't need it. Looks better on you." Dean was already thinking ahead, about the security system in the mall. He did hope that he wouldn't have to kill anybody tonight. The rent-a-cops who patrolled the mall were just doing their jobs, and besides, slaughtering defenseless humans would definitely spoil the mood later.
Quick in and out should do it. All he really needed was keys to his girl, that empty olive green duffel bag over in the corner, and his leather….
Draco spoke just then. That was no surprise. He sounded panicked, and that was a very big, very unpleasant surprise.
Not here. No ---
Dean's head jerked up. His mind was nearly overwhelmed, filled with quick flashes, one mental image after another. Images of Draco ensnared, half buried underneath a mountain of ice, as he strained to get skyward, those gigantic wings of his flailing uselessly, then a scene outside the motel, a large hulking figure shambling across the street, eyes icy silver, clothes and skin caked with thick layers of white frost and blue ice that trailed back across the street to an alleyway.
Dean growled, so low and deep, a sound like that had no business coming out of a human throat. The noise hurt Nancy's ears. She stumbled backwards, covered her ears with her hands, a useless gesture, and Dean turned to face her, those ruby serpent eyes of his flashing.
"Dean, what---" Nancy gave a startled yelp as Dean folded his arms around her, jerked her to him roughly. She had just enough time to see wings, the color and substance of smooth bronze leather, lift themselves up from Dean's well-muscled back and shoulders. They were huge. The wingtips scraped against the walls, tore gouges all along the corners of the ceiling. Dean pressed Nancy close to him as his wings curved protectively around them both.
The room exploded into a cloud of frigid air, dust and blackness.
Wurm.
Something tickled the end of Dean's nose.
Wake up, wurm.
It was cold. Dean was cold. He wanted to get up, or at least roll over and tell Nance to turn on the heater, or get another blanket. But that wasn't right. Wasn't winter. It was summer.
Dean caught a glimpse of something white with five fingers headed towards his face. He jerked back, growling. Didn't go very far. Whatever this was had him by his throat, pushed up into the wall. Dean's bare feet dangled a good two feet off the floor.
The thing smiled, a toothy grin, bloody ice caked between its teeth. Hello, wurm.
Dean stared for a moment. It was something hellish, a patchwork of torn human flesh and bone, frost and ice. Half of its forehead was gone, and from the way the edges of the fanned back and over something had gone inside and then pushed its way out. Specks of grey brain matter glistened like concrete chips embedded in ice. Its eye sockets were silver, but from the way its eyes roamed over Dean's body, looked at him and nearly through him with sheer delight, it was obvious this was one of Draco's old running buddies.
God, he was cold, right down to his core. So cold it burned. Dean could turn his head a little, and he could breathe. That was it. He could feel Draco, fiery, rageful, but it wasn't enough to warm either of them. Dean glanced downward. His body was covered in a thick coating of blue ice. There was some sort of thick grey chain hanging around his neck, and the octagon that hung from the chain was inscribed with runes he'd never seen before. It was some sort of containment amulet, then.
Snow whirled in the air all around, despite the fact that they where inside, despite the fact that the far wall was completely gone. It was mid-summer out there: hell had frozen over in here.
Nancy, where the hell was ---
There. She lay on the floor over by the bed, sprawled on her side. Too pale, too quiet.
Wurm. The thing thumped the side of Dean's head with its thumb and forefinger. Need you to listen to me now.
"Fuck you," Dean grated out loud.
It laughed. Wanna talk to the wurm now, monkey boy.
Draco surged up to the forefront. "Dynii," he snarled, using Dean's mouth. "Filth. Scum."
There he is, the thing crooned. There's my wurm. It looked Dean over with approval. Different flesh. Feisty. Spirited. I like that. Missed you, wurm. You always fun to play with. Looking for me? Found me.
F-friend of y-yours? Dean scowled inside his head. R-real r-rocket s-scientist, h-huh?
An elemental. They're not all this...eloquent.
It suddenly occurred to Dean that stuttering was not a good sign. Neither was the slurring of his thought voice. It was getting harder to think, harder to even put together a complete sentence.
Locked you in good this time, wurm. Others sent me to fetch you. Gonna walk you back there. Then we'll play for a while. Just like before. The walking ice cube grinned so wide the ice on its face cracked, from ear to ear. Pieces of frozen flesh fell off. Muscles and tendons cracked as it swirled its head to look at Nancy, silent and helpless on the floor.
Don't need that piece of meat. Worthless. Only need you. Be done with it. It sighed, as though it was doing Dean a huge favor. Kill her quick.
Dean saw red.
He heard Draco gasp, literally gasp in surprise and shock, as fire surged through them both. It hurt like hell, but Dean didn't care. He was pissed, and that was more than enough to make him ignore any pain he might have felt.
The medallion on his chest flared up with a bright, cold white light that was washed away underneath a wave of fire. Dean's hands closed around the dynii's thick, ice covered throat, and all he could think about was how he had lost people over the years. Mom. Cassie. Dad. Even Sam. Everyone left him. Everyone. They either left on their own, or they were taken. And now this bastard was going to take Nancy, too?
Ruby red serpent eyes locked onto startled silver ones as the ice melted, and the fire rushed down Dean's arms, his fingers, poured into frozen flesh and bone, thick blue ice.
The dynii screamed out, and Dean smiled.
"Babe?" Nancy said hazily. She felt Dean's arms around her, and that made her relax a little, made her smile. She was still wearing Dean's black t shirt. It took her a minute or two to figure out that they were sitting in the front bench of the Impala.
The motel was on fire, fully involved. The residents of the motel stood around watching as it burned to the ground.
"Uh…what just happened?"
Dean sighed. Police and firemen rushed all around them. No one seemed to notice them. "One of Draco's buddies paid us a visit." His embrace tightened, just a little. He smiled, and that red glint behind those dark sunglasses flashed bright and fierce for a second. "You okay?"
"Now I am." She settled back, laid her head against his chest. "What now?" Nancy said sleepily.
Dean smirked. "Don't get too comfortable, princess. We're going to the mall."
Ronnie just stared. They were paying him minimum wage. Wasn't worth getting killed over.
"Glad you decided to be reasonable about this," the red eyed dude with that kick-ass dragon tat rumbled. He shouldered that duffel bag full of loot from Irvine's Finest, the ritziest store in the Cross Keys Mall. Ronnie somehow had the feeling that none of the security cameras would work when it came to this dude.
Ronnie just nodded. He tried not to stare as the woman this dude hung with walked by dressed only in an oversized black t shirt. She had long well muscled legs that no doubt went all the way up to her chin. She also had a couple of fully loaded shopping bags in one hand from a store they just waltzed into. Ronnie didn't give a damn about that, either.
She was a babe. Ronnie wouldn't have minded frisking her, nice and long and thorough, if you knew what he was sayin'...
Apparently the dragon dude could read minds too, 'cause those red eyes of his flashed dangerously and he growled like a German Shepherd from hell. The vibration from the sound rippled over Ronnie's skin, and he knew in that split second he'd screwed up. Big time.
This voice inside Ronnie's rumbled furiously. You will respect our mate, human, and then it was like God or somebody thumped Ronnie upside the head.
Just a touch. Not enough to make him leave this world, just enough to scramble what little brainpower he had and knock him right out.