Huge thank you hugs to Jenjoremy for the awesome beta job and to my partners in fic crime, SandraEngstrom2 and Gredelina1 for all their help.
Everyone buckled in and ready? Good. Here we go...
Chapter Twenty
Dean was on his first cup of coffee, eyes still a little bleary and hair damp from the shower, when his phone rang. He set down his cup and pulled it out of his pocket. The caller ID said Roadhouse and he frowned slightly. Sam usually called from his cell phone.
"Hello?"
"Dean, it's Ellen."
It was her tone that tipped him off. He knew deep in his gut that this wasn't a phone call that he wanted to get. He knew who if not what it was about. His drowsiness deserted him.
"Is he okay?"
"He's not with you?" she asked in return.
"I haven't seen him for days. What's happened?"
Ellen sucked in a noisy breath. "I don't know. Ash spoke to him last night. He was on his way here, but he never turned up."
"He's in trouble," Dean stated.
"I think he is," she admitted. "Whatever Ash found, it's big. He won't even tell me about it. Sam wouldn't let himself get diverted from this, Dean."
Dean drew a breath, held it for a pause, and then released it, forcing away his fear with it—just as John Winchester had taught him. "Okay. Where was he when you last spoke to him?"
"Some burger shack out your way."
Sunnyside Diner, Dean was sure of it. He and Sam had been there a couple times together since Dean had decided they made the best bacon-cheeseburgers in the state. He'd only just rekindled his love affair with them. Sonny wasn't big on take-out food.
"Okay," he said, forcing confidence into his tone. "I know where he was. I'll go by there."
Though what he hoped to find there, he didn't know. It wasn't like Sam would have left a note to say where he was going next. It was the only clue he had though, so he would make the trip.
"Okay," Ellen said. "We'll do what we can from here. Ash is trying to track his GPS, and I've got Jo calling around. We'll find him, Dean."
Her words were comforting, but her tone was not. She was just as worried as Dean was. Sam was a hunter. He could take care of himself. He could have just decided to crash for the night in his car. Or something could be terribly wrong.
Sam woke lying on the collapsed remains of an old plank boardwalk. He was on his feet before he was all the way conscious again. His eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings. For a split second, horror filled him, as he thought he recognized where he was, and then reason caught up with him. This wasn't Miners Delight. This place was bigger, there were more buildings, but it was just as abandoned as that ghost town had been. No one had lived here for a long time. Sam was willing to bet no one had even walked on these streets in a long time.
It was so strange and disconnected that he would have liked to believe it was a dream, but the ache in his back from where he had lain—for how long?—and the knot on the back of his head, throbbing painfully, assured him he was wide awake.
The last thing he remembered was stopping at a burger shack on his way to Dean's. He'd been planning to surprise his brother with an unexpected visit and his favorite burger when Ash had called. He'd been twitchy and weird, talking about finding something big. "You have to see if for yourself, Sam." Dean's food forgotten, Sam had turned away from the counter and then… Nothing. Someone had obviously clocked him.
His hand reached to the back of his pants, feeling for his gun, but there was nothing there. He bent and checked his boot but his silver knife was missing, too. Whoever had brought him here for whatever reason had cleared him of weapons in the process. He had his cell phone though; he could feel the weight in his pocket. He pulled it out but before he could even check the screen, he heard the lost reception beeping. Shaking his head, he stowed it back in his pocket and looked around again. There was something about the place, something familiar outside of the Miners Delight connotations. His eyes fell on the large water tower and he saw the faded remains of a name on it. He squinted and was just about to make them out.
"Cold Oak, Sammy," John said from his memories, pointing at a spot on the map. "Town so haunted it drove everyone out. One day you and me will go there and clean the place up. What do you think? It's our Grand Canyon."
Sam sighed. "Looks like I made it after all, Dad."
Dean felt a deep sense of foreboding as he pulled into the Sunshine Diner parking lot. It was early, the place should just be opening up and the parking lot practically empty, but there were about a dozen cars in the lot—the Impala among them.
Dean climbed off the bike and walked to the door with a heavy heart. He didn't know what he was going to find inside, but every atom of him screamed with tension.
The door wasn't locked. It swung open at his touch and a horrific sight met his eyes. Blood, so much blood, on tables and the floor and counter. And the bodies, throats slit into broad smiles and eyes wide, staring, skin pale. He knew if he could bring himself to touch one of them, he'd find him or her cold and stiff.
His eyes roved the room, both looking for and fearing to find too-long, shaggy hair and a tall form crumpled over one of the tables or on the floor, and yet he knew without knowing how that Sam was not going to be found, that he wasn't there.
He searched behind the counter and the kitchen anyway. There were more bodies but none of them were Sam, but there was a sign of him. The Impala keys, with their ancient Rainbow Motors key fob, were on the table. He snatched them up and made his way to a back room, a combination break room and storeroom. There was a woman in a pink uniform folded over the table, dead, a half cup of coffee in front of her. Poor woman had just been taking a break when this, whatever this was, happened.
There was a rear door, and Dean made for it. It was locked and Dean was on the point of forcing it to get a look out back, when he spotted the yellow powder on the windowsill: sulfur.
Sam armed himself with a plank of wood. He had no idea who or what he might need to defend himself from, but whoever or whatever had brought him here hadn't done it because they thought he would enjoy the scenery.
He was walking along the street, searching for he didn't know what, when he heard a creaking sound coming from the alley ahead of him. He darted forward to stand out of sight and gripped the plank a little tighter, waiting.
A man stepped around the side of the building, and Sam struck, redirecting his swing at the very last second to avoid turning Andy Gallagher's brain to jelly. The wood thumped against the wall of one of the abandoned buildings and Andy ducked.
"What the… Sam?"
Sam released the plank and it clattered to the ground. He knew who had brought him here now, he just didn't know why.
Ellen answered the phone on the first ring. "Dean?"
"Demons," he said. "It was demons."
"They've got him?"
"Must have. I found a bunch of people with their throats cut and a load of sulfur. No Sam."
Ellen cursed weakly. "Okay. Uh…"
"What do we do?" Dean asked. She had to know because he didn't.
He heard her draw a deep breath and when she spoke, her voice was firm. "You need to come here. We've got the traps laid down, so we're safe. If it's demons, we can find him. They leave signs wherever they are. I'll get Ash on it."
Dean hesitated.
"What's wrong?" she asked when the silence grew too long.
"How did they do it?" Dean asked. "Everyone tells me Sam's a great hunter. I've seen it for myself. So how did they get the jump on him? How did they get him out of there? There were no signs of a struggle, and Sam wouldn't have gone quietly. It had to have been something with some serious mojo to get him."
"It wasn't just demons then," Ellen said with a sigh, "It was demon, The Demon."
"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking. And I don't think a couple of traps under the doors is going to stop that bastard. Sam's told me about it. It has serious power. We need more protection than devil's traps. We need Bobby's. Sam said it was the best protected place he knew."
"I know where he is," Ellen said. "Okay. I'll get Ash and Jo and meet you there. Be careful, Dean. You've been targeted twice for Sam now. Don't let there be a third time."
"I won't," Dean said stiffly. "Not this time." He didn't think he would be the target anyway. This time it seemed all the trouble had befallen Sam.
Where is he?
If Ellen, Dean or Jo had seen Sam in that abandoned town, they would have despaired. He had shut down again. All of the hard won lightness in him was gone. He was the person who had burned his father again. One part of him rebelled at the regression, but another part gloried in it. He needed to be like this. It was better, easier. He forced all thoughts of the people he cared about from his mind—it was the only way he would be able to get back to them—and became just a hunter.
It wasn't a shock for Andy—or Ava, when they found her— as they'd met him before, but when two other people appeared and introduced themselves as Jake and Lily, they were taken off guard by it—the contrast between him and Ava and Andy was great. That was good. They would have a better chance of getting through this alive if they trusted that he knew what he was doing.
The others were in conversation about how they'd come to be here. Sam let them get their histrionics out of the way and then he spoke up. "We're here because a demon wants us here. He has plans for us, that much I know. What these plans are, I have no idea. But we've got to stick together to get through this." How tempting it was to let them all get through it on their own. He could start for those trees now and get out of here—back to Dean—soon enough. He couldn't though. They were civilians, even the solider, and they needed help. "We help people because they can't help themselves, Sam. That's our job."
"A demon?" Andy asked dubiously. "That sounds kinda wackadoo."
"Says the man who can mind fuck people into doing what he wants," Sam said dryly. "Look, I don't care if you believe me, just as long as you trust me. I will get you out of this alive, but I need your help."
"And what makes you the expert?" Jake asked, staring at Sam with narrowed eyes.
Sam returned the stare, daring him to doubt him. "Five years of chasing this demon and every other nightmare you can imagine."
"You're crazy," Jake said.
"Maybe. Doesn't mean I'm wrong."
Jake shook his head. "I've heard enough. I'm better off on my own." He turned to the others. "FYI, so are you."
He walked away. Sam watched him go, annoyed as all hell but ranking the safety of the other three higher than Jake's alone. If Jake died, it would convince the others he was serious. Sometimes you lost one for the good of the many.
The ride to Sioux Falls did nothing to ease Dean's fear. He was wound tightly by the time he pulled the Impala to a stop and got out.
They'd heard him coming. Ellen was waiting on the porch for him, and when he reached her, she threw her arms around him. Tension came off her in waves. "You okay?" she asked, holding him by the shoulders and looking into his eyes.
"Not remotely," Dean replied.
She nodded. "Me neither."
He followed her into the house. Jo was sitting on the couch, her hands clasped in her lap and her eyes faraway, as if she was seeing something outside of the room they occupied. Ash had set his laptop up at the table and Bobby was looking over his shoulder.
He turned as Dean came in, as Dean saw his expression was solemn. He started to speak, "Try not to—" but Dean cut him off. "If you tell me not to worry, I'm going to lose my mind. Sam's good, I know that, but that bastard is better. I have no idea what's happening to him right now, what it's doing to him. Just fill me in on what you have."
Ash spun in his seat. "Okay. Here's the thing. There's nothing. No demon signs. No GPS from Sam's phone. No clue as to where he is."
"That can't be right," Dean breathed. "There has to be something!"
"There isn't." Ash ran a hand through his hair. "There is nothing out there that can track as good as this program. John and Sam helped me set it up. It's the best there is, and it's finding nothing, which means there is nothing to find."
Dean cursed. "Then what the hell do we do?"
Ellen laid a hand on his shoulder. He turned to her in time to see a tear trickle down her cheek. "We have to wait, honey. We have to hope Sam can make it out of whatever's happening to him on his own."
Thanks to the Acheri demon, Sam had three of them on board with what they had believed was pure crazy at first. Lily was gone though, found hanging from the water tower. Sam regretted her death, it felt like a failure, but he couldn't let himself think of it for long. There were three others still alive who needed his protection.
They had gathered salt, an iron poker, and an old rusted knife that could have been there since the time of residents. It was a weapon though, and Sam had stuffed it into his boot.
"We need help," Sam breathed, thinking of all the hunters he knew. If he could just get a few of them here, they would have a better chance of making it out alive. Lily had obviously been trying to leave when she died, and Sam wanted out of this place more than anything.
"Help from who?" Ava asked tearfully. "Who can help us now?"
Sam shook his head. "Any one of my… friends." The word felt awkward on his tongue. They weren't friends; they were barely acquaintances. "But I need a way to contact them."
Andy snapped his fingers. "I think I can do something about that. I've never tried it long distance before, though, and I might not be able to reach them, but…" He trailed off looking thoughtful.
"Keep talking, Andy," Sam snapped.
"Do you have anything that belonged to one of your friends?" Andy asked. "Something they touched?"
Sam shook his head. "I don't usually carry mementoes of them around." But then he realized that he did have something. Something of Dean's. He had kept that business card on him ever since Dean had given it to him. It had become a talisman in a way, a sign that he was not always alone.
"What can you do Andy?" he asked.
"I can send them a vision. If we can find the right person, we can clue him in to where we are at least. Maybe that would help."
Sam was torn. He needed help, he knew that, but if he drew Dean there… It was too big a risk, wasn't it? Would Dean be smart enough to get help from someone else, someone who would be an asset? Ellen would know what to do, Bobby, too. If Dean would just go to them, tell them what he saw, then they could get backup here by nightfall.
He reluctantly pulled the card from his pocket and handed it to Andy. "Do what you have to do."
Andy took the card. "Who's is this? Who are we dialing up?"
"It's Dean's," he said. "It's my brother's."
Dean was pacing the room, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. He needed to do something, to help, but he couldn't even keep up with Ash and Bobby's conversation about signs and possibilities for Sam's location. It didn't sound like they knew anything anyway. They were all at a loss.
He was just turning on his heel to make another pass of the room when a crippling pain seared though his head. He felt like he'd just taken an axe to the skull. He bowed over, his hands coming to press against his temples, and groaned.
"Dean?" Ellen's voice sounded far away, as if he was hearing it underwater. He saw a flash of something across his vision and then, as fast as it had come, it ended.
"What the hell was that?" Bobby asked.
"I don't know," Dean said weakly. "It was like a—" The pain came again, worse than before, and this time the flash of image lasted long enough for him to make it out. Sam. He was alive. Despite the pain, Dean felt exquisite relief. He tried to focus on what he was seeing. It looked like an old world town. There was a derelict looking building to the left—its windows crusted with dirt. Sam was standing in front of what looked like an old fashioned well. No, a bell. Dean searched for any other marker, any other clue, but the vision was fading then gone, as was the pain.
He opened his eyes and was surprised to find that he was on his knees. Someone had placed a hand on his back and he could feel the gaze of the others holding him in place.
"I saw him," he breathed. "I saw Sam."
"Where?" Ellen asked.
Dean shook his head and got clumsily to his feet. "I'm not sure. It looked old and empty. I just saw him. There was a bell… It had something on it."
"A tree?" Bobby asked intensely. "An oak tree?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah."
Bobby looked worried. "I know where he is, and it ain't anywhere good."
"I've been here a long time. And not alone, either," Ava said happily. "People just keep showing up. Children, like us. Batches of three or four at a time."
"And you killed them," Sam stated.
"Every one of them. I'm the undefeated heavyweight champ."
Sam shook his head, glancing at Andy's body lying on the floor between them. He knew from his dream that Yellow-Eyes had brought them here to fight it out, but he'd never have put his money on Ava being the one who survived. She was a masterful actress.
"I had no choice," she went on. "It was me or them. After a while, it was easy. It was even kind of fun. I just stopped fighting it."
"Fighting what?"
"Who we are, Sam. If you'd just open yourself up, you have no idea what you can do. The learning curve is so fast, it's crazy, the switches that just flip in your brain." She laughed. "I can't believe I started out just having dreams. Do you know what I can do now?"
Sam glared at her. "You can control demons."
She grinned. "Ah, you are quick on the draw. Yeah, I'm sorry, Sam. But, it's over."
The smoke swirled at the window. Sam sprang forward, determined to end her, but Jake was faster. He seemed to come out of nowhere. He gripped her head and, with a satisfying crack, he snapped her neck. He released her and her body fell to the floor with a thud.
"Thanks," Sam said awkwardly.
"Welcome," he replied then his expression became grave. Sam knew, as clearly as if he could hear Jake's thoughts, what was going to happen next.
"It came to you, too, didn't it?" he asked. "The Demon?"
Jake nodded. "I'm sorry. It's you or me. I have no choice."
"You're letting that thing win," Sam said bitterly. "You have no idea what it's done to me, to my family. Walk away with me. Let's go after it together. I can teach you how to fight it."
"I don't need lessons," Jake said scathingly. "I know plenty already." He stepped forward, hand raised and fisted, and Sam tried to dodge it—the man had super strength and could easily crush him—but Jake countered. He struck Sam in the chest, knocking the breath out of him and cracking ribs. Sam was knocked back against the wall of the shack, and it collapsed under his weight. He went sprawling back onto the porch.
"I'm sorry," Jake said again, coming at him.
Sam leapt to his feet, snatching the knife from his boot as he did. He swept it through the air, aiming for Jake's chest, but he wasn't a soldier for nothing. His reflexes were good, better than good. He dodged the swipe and managed to catch Sam's wrist on the way past. He twisted it behind Sam's back in a half-nelson. Sam dropped the knife and fell back against Jake's chest for a moment. The contact must have been too much for Jake on the point of murder because he shoved Sam away.
Sam groaned with pain and spun on his heel to face Jake. "Don't do this," he said, and though he wasn't begging, Jake looked at him sympathetically.
"I don't want to." He was sincere, Sam could tell, but it wouldn't stop him from doing what he thought he needed to do. He would kill Sam, though the murder would possibly haunt him for years to come, because he had no choice.
Sam had no choice either, but he also didn't have a weapon. He was helpless in the face of Jake's desperation and need for survival. He had no choice. As his father's voice shouted within his mind—"Run, son. Run so you can fight another day"—he spun on his heel and sprinted away.
It was raining now, and he slipped on the mud but kept his feet. He could hear Jake behind him, his breaths panting. He wasn't going to make it. He was going to die here. The thought pushed him on faster.
Then out of nowhere, out of nothing, there was something in the road. Black smoke. Jake skidded to a stop behind him, and Sam half turned, sure that was the end, but then Jake stepped back and the smoke came at Sam.
It was raining and Dean was running as fast as he could, slipping slightly on the mud. Ellen and Bobby were following, but he was faster. He had a desperate need to get to Sam. Whatever was happening to him, he needed Dean. Dean knew it in his gut, something terrible was happening.
He was shouting Sam's name, wanting him to know he was coming. He wanted him to know his big brother was coming and he would save him or be damned himself.
He turned a corner and his heart seemed to leap in his throat. Sam!
He was standing with his back to Dean, talking to another man in army fatigues. As Dean shouted his brother's name, in relief and greeting, the man turned and sprinted away.
Sam turned slowly, making the movement seem to last forever.
"Sam?" Dean asked tentatively. Why was he moving so slowly? Was he hurt?
Then he was facing Dean and his eyes opened, his sickening, yellow eyes. There was a moment in which they just stared at each other, as Dean's mind reeled at what he was seeing, and then Sam was gone. He vanished without a sound, leaving Dean alone.
His knees buckled and he sank to the muddy ground, a cry building in his chest, bubbling up his throat and escaping his mouth in a yell. "Sam!"
So… That happened. This part of the story was supposed to be pretty much canon events. After much angsting and hand wringing that Gredelina1 and SandraEngstrom2 talked me through, I decided to change things up a little.
Until next time…
Clowns or Midgets xxx