I grip the edge of the map table, and squeeze with all my might, as Dean digs the scalpel deep into my calf. He retraces the x shaped scar, until it is wide open again, revealing the soft tissue underneath.
Next he picks up an oversized pair tweezers, and digs them into my leg, feeling for the tracker that Doctor Deskins had supposedly inserted into my original injury.
Sam is holding me down by my shoulders so I don't accidentally slug Dean in the mouth.
"Hold still," he whispers into my ear, "It'll be over soon."
"Got it," Dean says. "Just let me stitch you up."
I really wish Cas were here, because then the next step wouldn't be necessary.
He has been gone for the two days I've been back, doing heaven only knows what.
Dean douses my leg in whiskey, which burns like hell, and inserts the sanitary needle into my flesh to stitch me up.
When he is finished I sit up and Sam lifts me off the table. He holds me in his arms for a moment, and then let's me stand on my own. Ever since I have been back, I've noticed Sam has kept a careful distance between us, and it breaks my heart. Something in him is different. He tells me he loves me, and I know its true, but something inside of him has broken. I feel like he blames me for Johns kidnapping. Maybe it is my fault…
Dean holds out his hand, and I am shocked at what is in it. Instead of the tiny mechanical gps, that I was expecting, it is a small vile of blood.
"10-1 odds this is the Doc's blood. He didn't use technology to find you. He used blood magic." Dean says.
"Oh!" I exclaim.
"What, what is it?!" Sam says, his hand jerking toward his gun.
"Crowley!" I shout at the ceiling.
Crowley appears in the room at my beckoning, which is unlike him.
"Oh you actually came..." I say shocked.
"Well I've got nothing going on." He admits. "I see Queen Winchester has been returned safely to her palace. Where is the snotty prince?" He cranes his neck looking for John.
"My son was taken by Bagdana." I struggle to keep my voice steady. "Are you familiar with his work?"
Crowley's eyes widen. "Bagdana is dead. Baerat killed him." He says fervently.
"I though so too, but apparently not." I reply.
Crowley now looks like he may be sick. "What do you want from me?"
"You used blood magic to locate the demon who took me?" I ask.
"Yes..." He says carefully.
"How does that work exactly? Does it have to be the specific persons blood? Or can it be a close relative?"
"Are you asking if I can use your blood to locate John?" Crowley asks.
"Yes. Mine or Sam's. Or possibly both?"
"I don't know. Blood magic is tricky, but it's worth a try."
"How long will it take?" I ask desperately.
"I'm not sure. The demon that I tracked had warded himself against blood magic. That's why it took so long to find him. But no one has ever used blood magic through a family members blood, so I'll wager that John isn't warded..."
"Why are you being so helpful?" Dean asks Crowley suspiciously.
"Because if Bagdana is back, I may have competition. Better to release the Winchesters on him then have to get my own hands dirty. " He replies.
"Let's do this then." Sam says flatly.
"I have to go get the ingredients, I'll be right back." Crowley vanishes.
I sit on the floor, and bury my head in my knees. Rae drops down on the floor beside me and puts her arms around my shoulders. "We'll find him Mac. It'll be ok."
Crowley pops back into our living room in record time, an antique looking leather satchel in tow.
He waves his hand, and all the papers and trinkets that are piled on the coffee table fly into the floor. He begins to lay out assorted objects in a strait line. A wooden bowl, a bag of pigeon feathers, plastic baggy of some pink squishy stuff... I don't want to know. Several different spices and herbs, and a map
Crowley begins to mix feverishly, stopping to say something in Latin every so often.
Finally he reaches out his hand and looks at my expectantly.
I place my hand in his, and he slices open my palm with his dagger. I watch as the blood drips into the bowl.
"Moose?" He says.
Sam reaches his hand out, and does not flinch as the blade severs his flesh.
Crowley picks up the bowl and chants over it. Finally he pours the concoction onto the map, and lights it on fire. The potion burns up cleanly, leaving only one red pinpoint stain.
"It worked." Crowley says. "Your son is there." He points to the mark.
Dean picks up the map to examine it. "It's about seven hours from here..." He says.
"Let's go!" I jump up.
"Wait," Sam says.
"What do you mean wait?! We know where Johnny is! We have to go get him!" I cry.
"We don't know what we are walking into. How do we kill Bagdana when we arrive?"
"Leave that to me."
We all jump, and look into the corner, where apparently Cas has been sitting for some time.
"Sorry I didn't mean to startle you. I've been doing some inquiring around about Bagdana, and I know how to kill him." He says. "Angel blade, coated in a rams blood potion."
He holds up an Angel blade, coated with a sticky red layer.
"Cas, you are the best." I hug him.
He pulls me back to arms length and observes me with worried eyes. "You are so weak right now, Mackenzie. You hide it well, but I can feel it. How are you even standing?" He places both his hands on my cheeks, and closes his eyes.
I feel a month of sadistic torture and brutal experimentation melt off of my body.
"Good as new." He says.
We pack up our weapons, and gather back into the living room.
"Let's go get John." Sam commands stoically.
Crowley disappears.
Sam, Dean, and I lay our hands on Castiel's arms.
Rae stands in the middle of the floor, holding Bobby, with tears brimming in her eyes.
"Please come back safe. I love you all."
In the next second, we are standing in a huge valley. The only building in sight is a white farmhouse.
I stare at it confusedly. After the sirens and fences of the compound, this seems too...easy.
The only barrier is a low, strangely shaped concrete wall.
Castiel stares at it in dismay. "It's to ward away angels." He explains, "The entire house is surrounded by a giant sigil. I can't get in..."
"Give me your blade then." Sam orders.
"You don't understand, an angel has to wield it, or it won't work. Bagdana can ONLY be killed by an angel." He responds.
I study the wall for a moment, then, "No problem. I mean, we'll have to sacrifice the element of surprise...but…"
I pull an olive green grenade out of my bag and grin sinisterly.
"He'll take the child and vanish, if you use that." The sudden arrival of Crowley's voice causes me to jump.
He is standing behind us, with a troop of at least 20 demons.
"You came to help?" Dean asks, "I thought you didn't want to get your hands dirty..."
"Well I couldn't just sit back and watch you screw it all up..." Crowley says as if that should be obvious.
"You aren't fooling anyone Crowley. You like us." I say.
"Agree to disagree," he replies. "Now, how are we doing this? The angel has to be the one wielding the blade, so we have to get him inside. But if we blow the wall, he'll run."
Cas steps forward, and pulls out his angel blade. He makes an incision in his hand, and presses his it to the ground, allowing the blood to trickle down into the ground.
He begins to chant in Enochian, and a scarlet line streams from his hand. It twists and turns in complicated patterns and angles. Finally, he stands up to survey his work.
Spread out before us is an enormous devils trap, that spans the entire length and width of the valley.
"He's not going anywhere now." Cas promises.
"Well then by all means, Mackenzie: have at it." Crowley says.
I pull the pin and toss the explosive toward the wall. It detonates, alerting every demon in the vicinity of our presence.
"Let's see what we're up against." I sigh.
Castiel takes point, and Crowley and his demons bring up the rear. Sam, Dean, and I weave through them like smooth running machinery. We have been hunting together so long, we know exactly how to play each part. Every demon that rises up against us is immediately put down. There is virtually no resistance, as we mow through the hoard.
When we enter the door, I blink hard. The interior is as far in contrast as it can possibly be from the exterior. It is a huge white room, the size of a football field at least.
"Oh my god what is this, Time Lord technology?" Dean shouts.
I look around, mouth hanging open like an idiot. The walls are lined with doors, each seeming to lead to a different room.
A dark skinned demon stands in the middle of the room, wielding an enormous sword.
"Is that-" I start to say.
"No he is a guard," Crowley interrupts. "His name is Aeshma. He is called the demon of wrath."
"Then he and I should get along just fine." Sam hisses, as he draws his demon blade.
Before any of us has a chance to react, Sam's pent up emotions are unleashed like an atomic bomb. I watch with a mixture of pride and awe, as he twists, dodges, and slices. Aeshma doesn't get one hit in, before Sam drives the demon blade deep into his sternum. He lights up red, and then falls lifeless to the floor.
Sam wipes the bloody blade on his pant leg, and sheaths it. He looks up and our eyes meet for a moment, before he looks away. I feel my stomach drop, but I don't have time to dwell on it.
"How do we know which door-" Dean begins to say, when one by one the doors begin to disappear, leaving only one at the far end of the room.
"Kill the guard...kill the illusion?" Crowley shrugs. We move forward, and file through the door.
Now we stand in a field, beneath the open sky. This bullshit is starting to get real old real fast. Forget Bagdana disappearing, he could just keep us wondering here for the rest if eternity.
Apparently, however, that is not his plan. In the middle of the field is a pale demon. He is dressed in a business suit, and has long blond hair flowing down his back.
In his arms is my son.
I feel the hairs rise on the back of my neck, and a blinding rage I have never before experienced currents through my veins.
I reach for my dagger, but Castiel places a restraining hand on my shoulder. "Bagdana, we have come for the child. Hand him over willingly, and we will leave you in peace. Do not, and I will kill you." His angel blade slides out of his sleeve, and he grasps it tightly.
Bagdana stares at us for a full minute before answering. "I have considered your offer, and respectfully decline. Now, I have an offer for you. Leave in peace. Offer me this child in exchange for all of your lives. He will be raised as my son." His eyes focus on me. "You took my child, you owe me a debt. I will consider your spawn as payment in full."
"Lilin practically committed suicide. She knew what it meant to awaken my powers, and she made that choice on her own." I growl. "Do you know what her real error was? She messed with my family. You are making that same misstep Bagdana. Why don't you learn a lesson from your daughter's mistakes, and leave us be?"
"Have it your way." He hisses, and suddenly we are surrounded by dozens of demons.
"You're welcome." Crowley says, as he passes out Demon blades to each of us. Then to Cas: "Lets do this Angel. I'll get the child, you get the asshole."
The demons close in, and we engage. The field is all blood, red flashes of dying demons, and sun reflecting off of daggers. I try to make my way toward Bagdana, toward Johnny. I hear him crying, and adrenaline surges through my system. I slice and hack away. Sam hears it too, and he is a mechanical frenzy, no hesitation. We are side by side now, working as a team, flinging our blades, hewing into our enemies, but we make no progress toward Johnny.
I see Crowley out of the corner of my eye, wading through demons. He doesn't have to exert much effort; his personal guard takes care of most of the offensive against him.
Bagdana hands Johnny to a female demon that stands near him, as Castiel approaches. It is rare to see him so enraged, and it is hard to watch. I am used to calm, friendly Cas, but when he is upset, he is a sight to behold. He fights with immense skill and accuracy.
I turn my attention back toward Crowley, who has now reached the female demon and Johnny.
"I'll take that thanks." He smiles; as two of his demons grab the female by her arms, ripping them clean off. Before Johnny falls to the ground, Crowley snags him. Only now do I question our willingness to turn our baby over to the king of hell.
I yearn so badly to have him back in my arms, but Crowley vanishes.
Wherever he may be, Johnny is out of the fray, so now I can really focus on the battle.
A large demon advances toward me, dagger drawn. Before I have a chance to retaliate, Sam comes down on him with the force of a bull elephant, slicing his head clean off. The corpse flickers and dies out.
"Son of a Bitch!" I hear Dean cry. I turn toward him to see a demon has him pinned to the ground, and his nose is bleeding profusely. Sam also looks toward his brother, and in his moment of distraction, a knife-edge rips across his cheek. He turns back, and thrusts his dagger into the offending demons heart. I kick Dean's assailant off of him, and slice his throat with my blade.
With the help of what is left of Crowley's demons, and after many more wounds and mishaps, we demolish the opposing demons.
Now we stand in a half circle, and behold Castiel in all his vengeful might. Even at his full physical power, Bagdana is matching him blow for blow.
"CLOSE YOUR EYES!" Castiel shouts, and we do. A loud ringing pierces our ears as Cas takes his true form.
After several minutes, all is quiet. I cautiously open my eyes. Cas is standing over the lifeless body of Bagdana, triumphant. His angel blade sticks out of Bagdana's right eye.
Dean walks up to congratulate Castiel, but before he reaches him, Cas collapses on top of Bagdana's body.
"CAS!" Dean shouts. He turns Castiel over, to reveal a black spike sticking into his side.
"CAS BUDDY?! Stay with me!" he shouts.
Crowley reappears in the field much to my surprise. "Johnny is with Rae." He says. "What did I miss?"
"Cas is hurt!" I cry. "Can you take us back to the bunker?"
We gather around Crowley, and suddenly we are all back at home.
Dean and Sam lift Cas onto the couch, and Crowley examines the wound. "This is The Kings Blade. It has been missing for centuries…There is nothing I can do for your friend." He says apologetically.
Dean kneels by Cas's side, and pulls out the blade. Castiel's back arches, and then he goes limp.
"Cassie?" A tiny voice says. I turn to see my son, as he toddles across the floor toward Castiel. "Casseel?! Wakup!" he commands.
I reach for Johnny but Sam grabs my hand, his eyebrows knitted together.
John stares at Castiel for a moment, then he reaches out his tiny hand, and lays it gently on Castiel's face. "Cassie, wakeup!" he orders again.
Suddenly Castiel coughs and opens his eyes. "Hey there little buddy. I'm sure glad you're home." He smiles weakly.
I scoop John up, and he buries his head into my shoulder. "MOMMY!" he giggles. All the pure terror I have felt for a month melts away. My son is home.
Cas pulls back his trench coat and shirt, to reveal that the place where the Kings Blade had been is completely healed. Not even a scar remains. "Thanks Johnny." He says.
Johnny lifts his head up and smiles. Sam takes him from my arms, and holds him close. For the first time since I've been back, I see softness encroach in Sam's features.
Only a glimmer of it, but it is there. The look is quickly replaced by fierceness, almost as if Sam is daring any creature to try and pry John from his fingers.
…
SAM
I place my sleeping son into his crib reluctantly. Mac stands beside me, looking down at him. I bend down and kiss John on the head, then turn and leave the room. Mac follows, her head bowed low.
We walk into the bedroom and I sit on the bed. Mac drifts to the corner and begins to peel off her clothing. I haven't really been alone with her since before she was taken, so I hadn't seen her undressed until now. My breath hitches in my throat, and I look away from her, but the image pierces my mind. Her body has always had its collection of scars and bruises, hazard of the job, but now…her torso is covered with them. They are fully healed, thanks to Cas, but the amount of torture she must have endured to receive that amount scarring…I shiver
I stand up and leave the room quickly.
"Sam?" She calls, but I keep walking.
I stumble into the gym, and lean against the wall, breathing heavily. All the emotions I have been shoving down for a month surface. I don't know what exactly it is I am feeling. At first I think it is hate for Doctor Deskins, and for Bagdana. I sink to the floor as I realize who I am truly angry at.
This is my fault.
I should have been there to protect her, to protect Johnny. I got so comfortable with Mac's ability to protect herself that I forgot.
This is my burden; the people I love will always be in danger.
I stand up and pace around the room. A cry of frustration escapes my lips, and I take my anger out on the nearest possible victim, our punching bag. I let my mind drift away into the methodical thud of my fists making contact with the bag.
My body shakes with rage.
Suddenly my swing is deflected.
Mac is standing between the bag and I, her fists raised. She swings at me, and I block her attack.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"Giving you a chance to take your anger out on who you are really mad at." She says harshly.
Her words and her tone confuse me.
She swings again, and we fall into our regular routine of sparring, like we did when she first moved into the bunker. She continues to swing and dodge, never meeting my gaze.
Finally I lose patience with her. I grab her by the wrists and pin her arms above her head, shoving her against the wall.
I mean to confront her about her words, to ask her what she meant, but suddenly the mood changes.
Our sweating bodies are pressed up against each other, we both gasp for air. She looks up at me, her big green eyes full of rage and hurt.
I lower my head and kiss her passionately. It has been so long since I have had her, my body takes over.
She is all I want.
I push her down on the soft padding of the gym floor and kiss her neck, her jawline, and her forehead. A groan escapes her lips, and a cold chill runs up my spine.
She flips me over onto my back expertly, and I pull her on top of me. She runs her hands up my shirt, and pushes it up over my head. Her lips caress my collarbone, my chest, down my torso… I gasp for air.
"Mac," I inhale.
"Mhmm?" She says, still moving lower down my stomach with her lips.
"Uh...I forget."