sorry, sorry, sorry for the long wait. i know, it's been almost two months :/. all i can say is sorry, writer's block hit me and i haven't been writing much lately. hopefully it's left me and i'll get back to regular updates. as always thank you so much for the great reviews and enjoy.

A DOOR IN THE DARK

Chapter 14

Cynthia Moss stood in her kitchen, cleaning dishes as she stared absently out the window. She knew they couldn't keep their secret from everyone, knew people would come looking, and she also knew what needed to be done. No one could know about their children, about their gifts from heaven. Cynthia couldn't lose Rebecca again, she refused to. She wasn't naive, she knew her daughter wasn't the same little girl that'd been lost in the fire, but she didn't care. She had a child again, someone to hug, to read stories to at night— she had her baby back again.

She could still remember the explosion as though it had just happened. She'd been working at the small town coffee shop, sitting behind the counter joking with customers when the moment came that would change her life forever. The explosion had been like nothing she could ever have imagined, the very building around her nearly shaking off its foundations. And then she'd left the coffee shop to see what could have caused the commotion, and she saw the school. New Eden was small, the entire town being only a few blocks, and it hadn't taken long for the parents of the town to see what had become of their futures. Every child, every teacher, everyone within a two hundred yard radius of the school had been killed.

The police and fire departments had come, but Cynthia knew there was nothing they could do. The school was a smoldering reck of what it had once been— and Cynthia knew there was nothing to be done but recover the bodies. That had been the worst part of all in the young mother's mind, and the police chief's words still brought tears to her eyes. Cynthia had sent her little Rebecca off to school in the morning, and by mid-afternoon she was planning her funeral. But there was one catch that destroyed the woman— there were no remains. The explosion had completely demolished everything, even those trapped inside. There would be nothing to bury but an empty coffin, and that was what sent Cynthia Moss over the edge.

Others had tried to comfort her, had tried to show her that faith could heal all wounds, that faith could mend the shattered hearts of the families, but Cynthia would have none of it. How was she supposed to have faith when God stole her child from her? Cynthia couldn't believe her fellow townsfolk had moved on, that they'd continued living with their futures gone, with their children gone. Even her husband told her to let Rebecca go, to 'move on'.

That had been the final straw, and Cynthia Moss's life unraveled from there. She'd divorced her husband Robert and had begun to pray, but she wasn't praying to God. She read every book on the occult she could get her hands on, studied every religion that had ever been practiced on earth. She didn't care who was listening to her, who she was praying to, she just wanted her little girl back. And, four years later, Rebecca had returned with a message— get all the town to follow her and rebuild, and the children would return.

It took a lot of pleading, a lot of lying, and many of the tricks she'd learned in her studies, but she'd managed to do just what Rebecca had asked, she'd brought the town back. Well, she'd brought the believers back, the others were left to their own fate. They were in the end times, Cynthia could feel it in her bones, it was time to be judged and Cynthia knew she and her followers would be saved. Robert and the unbelievers, well they got what was coming to them. But Cynthia had saved the children, brought them back home, surely that made her worthy of praise.

She nearly jumped when the doorbell rang again, a dish slipping from her hand and back into the soapy water. She took a long, tense breath, wondering who could be calling on her. George had just passed, maybe it was someone from the neighborhood trying to get an inside scoop as to what happened. Cynthia wasn't one to pry, not by any means, but since she'd been the one to bring the children back, the others often turned to her when those that were judged fell.

She made her way to the door, her heart skipping a beat when she saw who was on the other side of the glass. It was one of the young census officers, though this time he was dressed more like a runaway from the detention center. And, instead of the tall, calming man who had accompanied him earlier, he was now with an older, even more weathered looking man.

"Can I help you?" Cynthia asked, opening the door but once again leaving the screen closed between them.

"We need to talk, Cynthia." The younger man began, not bothering to hide the threat in his voice.

"I've already spoken to you about your records."

"Look, you don't believe I'm from the census and I don't believe your kid is still who you think she is."

"Excuse me?"

"I know Rebecca died, along with all the other kids, when the school exploded. And I also know you did something to bring them back."

"I don't—."

"I don't have time to sugar coat this, Cynthia. What you brought back are called Emere."

"No, what I brought back is called Rebecca, my daughter." Cynthia began, her voice level and deadly. She would not be judged by someone as lowly as the man before her. No, only God had the right to pass judgment on her.

"No, Cynthia, she's a creature called an Emere."

"How dare you." Cynthia began, her voice like venom. She pushed open the screen door, stepping out onto the porch as she confronted the arrogant man in front of her. "She is not a creature. She's a little girl."

"She's not natural, not human."

"You think I don't know that."

"She's dangerous."

"She's here from God. If you fear her so much that means you know what'll come of your judgement."

"Look, Cynthia, I get it—."

"No, you don't. I lost my little girl, my baby. Do you know what the fells like? I lost my child once, I will not do it again."

"These children are dangerous, and I know you know that. They're targeting my brother and I have to stop it."

"So what? Your family is more important than mine?"

"Your family is already dead, my family isn't."

"What is life and death? Have you felt any of the children? Their skin is warm, they smile, they're just the same as they were when they were here."

"No, they're not." The young man's voice was cold, his eyes like fire as he took a step closer.

"Dean—." The older man tried to stop his partner, but the blonde silenced him with a wave of his hand.

"Tell me, Dean," Cynthia began, not the least bit intimidated. "If your brother died, wouldn't you do whatever it took to get him back?"

"That's not what we're talking about."

"Answer the question. If you could get back someone you loved, wouldn't you do it?"

"Life isn't always about getting what you want." The older man spoke up, he too taking a step forward. "Sometimes life's about learned to let go when the time comes."

"I won't give up my daughter."

"Then we'll take care of her ourselves." Dean spoke slowly, his voice like nails. He gave Cynthia one more long look, his green eyes piercing, almost as though they were searching her soul. Without another word, he turned and left, a limp barely noticeable as he made his way down the stone walk.

Cynthia pulled her cardigan closer, though the air wasn't all that cool. The man she'd just spoken with was dangerous, but she wouldn't lose her daughter again. She couldn't. If the children were after his brother, there had to be a reason, and Cynthia had faith that what was meant to happen would always come to pass. Yes, sometimes you had to give up what you love the most for the greater good, but sometimes you had to strengthen your hold in the face of adversity.

'But what if now was a time to give up?

A voice echoed through her head, nagging at her resolve. She'd been hearing the voice a lot lately, challenging her, making her doubt herself. She'd done so much to get her little girl back— it was the right thing, she had to believe that.

'But what's the difference between right and wrong? Maybe the others are right.'

"No," Cynthia whispered, her eyes drifting across the street. "I can't give up, not now." She was too far in, too lost to the cause to turn her back on the children now. She had to have faith, had to believe. Because, when all was said and done, faith was all she had.

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Sam sat in the driver's seat of his father's truck, his eyes locked on the road ahead of him, his mind lost in thought. There was something about Old New Eden, something that kept the children away, but he couldn't figure out what. Sam reached out with his mind, with his powers, but he wasn't searching for answers— he was looking for Dean. He needed his brother's strength, needed him by his side, even if he was miles away. Over the years, Sam had taken advantage of his brother, had believe that, no matter what, Dean would always be there. But over the last year, that foundation had been badly shaken.

Everything they were, everything Sam knew about life had changed, and he knew it would never be the same. The Asura had set a plan in motion that couldn't be stopped. It was all just a matter of time, though, Sam thought as he searched for his brother. The Yellow Eyed Demon was still out there somewhere, perhaps being suppressed by the Iblis or possibly even working with the other demon. This was a path their lives were always going to take, a journey they were destined to complete, no matter what they battled along the way. Their lives were never their own, not really, and Sam had finally begun to understand that.

He found Dean a moment later, his brother's soul shining out like a beacon. With that thought the Asura's long silenced voice came back to Sam's ears. It had called Dean a beacon in the night. Ever since the night of the fire it had felt him, been drawn to his pain, fed on his sorrow— and now Sam was doing the same thing. He wasn't feeding, at least he hoped not, though he did feel a burst of energy whenever he felt another's emotions. Sam shook the feeling away, focusing again on Dean.

His brother was upset, but that didn't really surprise the younger hunter. After all, Sam had walked out on him, again. However, that wasn't what was upsetting Dean, and a few seconds of searching gave Sam all the answers he needed— John. His father had said something to Dean, and even though it may have been the truth, it still broke the older man to pieces. Sam could feel his anger spike, the winds around him picking up in intensity as a deep rage grew inside him.

"You channeling those powers while I'm not around… naughty, Sammy."

Sam didn't jump, instead gripping the steering wheel tighter when the Iblis showed up, mocking his brother once again. "I told you before—."

"Yeah. But I seem to remember you making a few other choice statements before. Like, say agreeing to use your powers."

"I agreed to get rid of the Emere."

"You agreed to a whole lot more than that, Sam. You're not backing out of this one."

Sam stared straight ahead, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. He had agreed to use his powers, to let the Iblis see just what it was he was capable of. It was a moment of desperation, a moment when Sam saw in him a way to save his family, a way to save Dean. Had it been a moment of weakness, probably, and Sam knew he would regret the deception, but Dean was at risk, and in the youngest Winchester's mind nothing else mattered.

"Have you held up your end of the deal?" Sam asked, still not looking at the Iblis.

"I've tried, Cynthia Moss is stubborn. She believes she's doing the right thing."

"Well, if anyone can convince her otherwise, I'm sure it'll be you."

"Aw, Sam, flattery, I'm blushing. You do know that as soon as the Emere catch on they'll come after us."

"I know."

"And you also know that I can't keep them away."

"I gathered."

"May I ask what your plan is then, super-boy?"

Sam stared out at the road ahead of him, his mind searching out his brother once more. Sam knew what had to be done, regardless of the consequences. Dean would understand, he would have to. Some things were bigger than them, bigger than just the Winchesters, and this was one of those things. The young hunter knew he had the power to destroy the Emere. He didn't know what those powers were exactly, but he knew instinctively that they could tear down the barriers between him and the 'indestructible.'

"Sam?"

"Keep working on the parents, and stay away from my family. I'll take care of the rest."

Sam looked to the seat beside him, not the least bit surprised when the Iblis vanished. He let out a long breath, smiling as the tension was released from his body. He wasn't sure if the 'shielding' would work with the demon so close. He had a plan, he just couldn't let the Iblis know what it was. There were two threats facing him now, the Emere and the Iblis and Sam knew he had to neutralize both. The demon wasn't above using Dean against Sam, the brunette knew that, and he knew he had to stay one step ahead of the being.

He could control his powers to an extent, and Sam was beginning to see what it was he could really do. But, with that knowledge came a sad realization. The powers were more than just something he wielded, they were him. If someone asked him to describe it Sam wasn't sure he'd be able to. He could feel the strength running through his veins, could feel an electricity course through him with each breath he took. To unleash the power wound destroy him, envelope everything Sam was— he knew that. But Dean was at risk, and as long as Sam was by his brother's side, as long as Dean stood in front of him and shielded him, the older man would always be at risk.

Dean had given him so much, sacrificed so much, it was time Sam repaid him. The young hunter knew they both wouldn't survive, that despite everything, only one of them would come through the war. As long as Sam concealed his powers, as long as he tried to hide behind the lie that he wasn't different, he'd be a target. But Dean didn't have to live that life. He knew his brother would never accept losing him, but Sam couldn't see any other way around it. He wanted to be with his family, with his brother just being brothers for as long as time would allow. But sometimes, no matter how much it hurts, you have to give up what you love the most for the greater good.