Beginning notes: slaps foreheadI don't why I didn't think of this sooner, but in order to keep any more confusion (mine mostly- ) about this whole 'John' thing to a minimum, I'm going to spell it a different way. From here on out, Eyepatch!Dean is Jon. Now all I have to do is go back and edit. . . grumbles incoherently
Also, this story is strictly season two between the episodes 'Nightshifter' and 'BUABS'. Is it sad and slightly pathetic that I was trying to finish this before season three began?
My unofficial beta once again did not have time to proofread this before posting, so every mistake remaining is mine. Oh, and this chapter is pretty intense. A bit more gore and thoughts alluding to disturbing subject matter and violence. My sister said I write Evil!Samuel a little too well. . .
Chapter Twenty-Four: Buried Thoughts
Earlier In Hendrickson's Office:
Samuel inwardly scoffed at the two men he was sharing office space with as they watched the tv screen like there was something on there that would help them. Idiots. Wasting their time watching an old video instead of actually searching for their escapee. He was especially annoyed at the agent who brought in said video. Daniel, he was pretty sure was his name.
He rolled his eyes with obvious disgust as Daniel rubbed the side of his head when on screen another agent rushed forward and struck him with a small cup of water, letting the shattered glass fall to the floor. Samuel felt a small tugging on his lips as he envisioned the much worse things he could do to the spineless Daniel. Ooh, spineless. That sounded like fun.
"That's it? Hendrickson interrupted his gleeful thoughts as the tape ended.
"Yeah." Daniel nodded. "I know it's not much, but at the very least it's enough to prosecute Jim with. Weird though, huh?"
Samuel now visualized beating the life out of him. He'd have to cut out his tongue first though. If the voice grated on his nerves now imagine what it would be like when he screamed. . .
Neither man seemed to suspect his inner thoughts though as Victor agreed, looking over to Samuel. "Especially that part about you Sammy, right? Doppelgängers? He really has lost it."
Samuel's lips tightened as he felt a bubbling anger and pressure building inside of him. It wasn't the blatant disregard for doppelgangers or the fact that the black agent was intentionally bating him that caused Samuel's anger to spike though, but the name he called him. Sammy. One word- one name. His pet name. But nobody called him that anymore. Nobody but his father, and his father never used it unless he really wanted him to do something for him.
This was a sign.
'Alright father, I understand.'
Azazel would be so proud.
Slowly, his lips twisted up into a dark smirk and carefully, discreetly he pulled his sleeve down to hide the slowly brightening glow of his blue aflame tattoo.
"Daniel. . ." He said softly, almost seductively. "Does your head still hurt? Let me see it. . ."
- - -supernatural- - -
Now:
Samuel stood, hands still bloodied, grinning like a mad cheshire cat with the form of a smaller woman laying limp in his strong arms. "Aren't family reunions the best?" He asked. "I mean, I heard they were great but this a killer, don't you think?"
Sam held the blade of Dean's broken knife behind his back, gripping it tightly.
Samuel gently lay Tara to the ground. "You know, I was just on my way out of here when I remembered that I forgot something."
"Your sanity?" Jon suggested, hand clenched into tight fists.
"Funny." Samuel deadpanned. "But no. I was thinking of something a little more tangible."
Dean's body stance instantly shifted into defensive when he saw the excited gleam in his brother's double's eyes, but he was too late to stop Samuel's intentions. He watched with certain amount of fury and helplessness as Sam's feet were knocked out from under him by an unseen source before being pulled forward through the air and pinned to a far wall. The blade he once held had fallen back to the ground, but for only a moment before Jon scooped it up.
It seemed that Jim had taken the initiative while Samuel's attention was diverted and was slowly inching his way over to where Tara was laying still. His gun was drawn though he seemed reluctant to use it. Truth be told, Dean was more than a little surprised that they hadn't been found yet. Damn FBI. Always popping up at the most inconvenient times and then disappearing when you actually needed them.
Jon nudged his shoulder, indicating that he was ready to fight, which was good because they didn't have a moment to lose. Sam was still fixed against the wall and Samuel was quickly closing the distance between them, causing the hairs on the back of Dean's neck to rise. Signaling to Jon, both of them ran forward. . . only to find themselves looking up at the ceiling from the flat of their backs.
"What the hell?" Dean growled, jumping back up and pushing forward again. But he went nowhere. It felt like he was hitting a brick wall but as far as he could see, there was nothing between himself and getting to Sam. It only took him a second to realize that this was another of Samuel's tricks.
An invisible wall. Clever.
Dean pounded against it. "Why are you doing this?"
Samuel turned on Dean with a look that almost resembled regret. Almost. "You know Dean, it wasn't supposed to be this way. Hell, you weren't even supposed to know I was here."
Dean was relieved when the double stepped away from his brother though it didn't look like Sam was coming off that wall anytime soon.
"And you know what?" Samuel gave an ironic laugh. "I'd bet you anything that this all would have worked too if I had just managed to keep a hold of my powers a little sooner. That's what I get though for assuming Dani was stronger than she was."
At the mention of the deceased fellow hunter, Dean slammed his fist against the wall, angry that Samuel didn't even flinch at the motion. "What did you do to her?"
Samuel's eyebrows shot up. "What are you, a moron? I killed her. You know what killed means, right?" His words were taunting and intentionally cruel. "Let me give it to you slow. I stuck her like pig before I plucked and dragged every single thought she'd ever had from her mind till she screamed for me to stop. And you know what I did?" He licked his lips viciously, causing Dean's eyes to narrow. "I took more. I kept going and taking until there was nothing left but an empty headed blond. You want to hear the best part?"
Dean didn't.
"The best part is that she isn't dead."
Dean's head jerked up. "What- no. It was in the papers. The police found her- the coroner confirmed her death. Y- you just said you killed her."
Samuel clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Yeah, I said I killed her. I didn't say she was dead. Big difference. Besides, you believe everything you read in the papers? You of all people should know that just because they have no pulse or heartbeat doesn't mean they're dead. No, your hunter friend was quite alive. Still is, probably." He mused. "It must have been scary for her, listening to all those people telling her that she was dead while she lay there trying to scream- trying to whisper- trying to breathe."
"Stop it." Dean took a step back, not wanting to hear any more.
"She knew exactly what was happening as they lowered her into a casket, closed the lid and buried her. Too bad her family was put in charge of funeral services. If only she had put hunters in charge, they would have at least salted and burned her, sending our dear Danielle to the 'Great Punchline' instead of dooming her to an eternity of dark, stifling loneliness."
Samuel tapped against the other side of his wall, leering at the now nauseous Dean. "I'll bet you thought I ran out of surprises, huh? Wrong again! There is so much more."
Dean wasn't sure he could take any more surprises. He had just learned that one of his friends was currently buried alive, what more could Samuel have done to make him hate him more?
The grinning brunet waved his hand dismissively. "Okay, so I lied before. That wasn't the best part. But guess what is."
Dean slowly raised his eyes till they were locked with Samuel's.
"I was going to bury Sam alive too."
Dean froze as those words sunk in. Bury Sam alive. . .
"I was going to find him, pull all his memories like I did with that blond slut, bury him. . ." He paused. "And then I was going to take his place, leaving you, Dean, never being the wiser."
He was now leaning his full weight against the wall, unsure whether he was about to throw up or just stand there in stunned silence. Dean chose neither, needing one final question to be answered. "But. . . why?"
"Why?" Samuel was incredulous. "Because my life was such a literal hell that I could taste the sulphur is why. Because I found a way for me to have a second chance and I took it. Why do you think I tried so hard to make you believe I was your brother for so long? You think I wanted to live somebody else's life?" He began to pace. "But now I see that there is no redemption. No second chances. There's only the life we were meant to live and there's no turning back. So here's me Dean. The real me. I don't need you anymore." He turned his back and started to walk away. "And neither does Sam."
Dean snapped out of his information overloaded daze as he realized Samuel was heading back to his brother. "Sam! Sam!"
--
Walls weren't exactly a novelty to Sam, but that didn't make them hurt any less. Of course, hitting walls was much better than getting choked, hands down. Still, it was definitely worrisome when instead of sliding back down to the floor where he could prepare for another attack he remained pinned to the vertical surface.
It didn't take a genius to figure out that it was Samuel holding him there, especially when he stepped up to examine his handiwork. "Well, well." The double murmured. "Looks like you're in a real predicament there buddy."
For a moment he thought he heard Dean yelling, but the deafening buzz in his head drowned it out.
Sam didn't bother using his strength trying to free himself. He knew he was going to need that for later. Thankfully the tingling in his neck had stopped, but it seemed that it had been replaced by a dull burning in the pit of his stomach.
Samuel leaned in closely till the pinned brother could feel his hot breath searing across his face. "You know, Sam. You and me aren't so different."
Sam grimaced as that dull burning in his stomach rapidly traveled up to the back of his head and instantly changed to a sharp throbbing.
"Maybe you should come with me. I've got a feeling your talents will be more appreciated away from here."
God, his head felt like it was on fire. He wanted it to stop. He needed release.
"We could leave here you know. Get out while we still can. Find freedom and live out our every desires like we deserve. You want that don't you? Don't you want that release?" Samuel asked softly, every word even more alluring then the last.
Sam did want that. He wanted that liberty, that. . . release. Oh, god he needed the inferno inside him to be set free. But not just free. He had flames within him and felt more anger than he'd felt in a long time, causing his heart to beat faster and his breaths to become more ragged. The pain was past the point of excruciating as raw energy sparked and flared throughout his entire being, blinding in it's intensity. Sam could feel the boiling pressure beginning to creep up behind his eyes, but Samuel didn't seem to notice.
"Me and you Sammy. We could do amazing things. Together, we'd be unstoppable. We'd be like brother's."
Sam snapped, the fires within bursting, reflected in his once hazel eyes. What's happening? His mind screamed, but the internal roaring buried it in its assault. Samuel never stood a chance. Their eyes locked and Sam felt his rage swell past the point of control.
"ENOUGH!" He screamed so loudly that Samuel heard it echo inside his head before he was picked up like a limp rag doll and thrown far enough down the hallway that neither Dean or Jon could see him, even as they heard the distant thud of contact.
Dean pitched forward, the invisible wall crumbling into nonexistence once Samuel had been thrown. He scrambled back up to his feet, eyes transfixed on his younger brother who remained completely rigid and unmoving. "Sam?" He asked cautiously. "Sammy?"
"Cristo." Dean didn't have time to comprehend the meaning of Jon's words before his brother's still form flinched.
"Sam?" He asked again, inching forwards.
Sam turned to face him, his eyes glistening. . . but then they weren't his eyes anymore. Their usual color now masked by a dark oily black only contrasted by the bright crimson flecks floating around in some kind of frenzied dance. His lip was curled into a relaxed smirk at Dean's face before turning his attention back to the fallen Samuel.
Dean stumbled back a step, the sight too disturbing to believe.
And then Sam opened his mouth to speak. But as he spoke, it seemed another voice echoed. Two voices, Dean counted. The first being his brother's but the second was much quieter. No more than a whisper.
"I already have a brother."
The second, whispering voice spoke in Latin.
Dean's mouth dropped open in silent horror as his greatest fear began to play out before him.
"Sammy." Dean ripped his gaze from Sam, realizing that Samuel was back and standing not too far from his now crouching brother. "Finally showing your true colors? I knew that weak little human thing was just an act."
Sam glared at his smirking double, the fire inside feeling no more smoldered. If anything it felt like somebody threw more logs into the furnace. He was losing control and he knew it wouldn't be long before he completely succumbed to the urges within. "What's happening?"
"As if you didn't know." Samuel grinned. "You're free. You've finally let your powers manifest." The smile on his face was a stark contrast to the darkness in his eyes. "You know what this means right?"
Powers manifest? What had Samuel said about his powers before? We absorb peoples powers. Though not by touch. Mainly it's judged by proximity. Somebody has telekinesis, we can use telekinesis. Telepath? You can start reading minds.
When you absorb a special kid's power, you don't get it to the strength they do. If he could control people with voice or mind alone, the best you could do was use their power to make yourself immune.
So you're saying that when I'm around special children, I get a little piece of their powers. Basically, enough to keep me alive?
Samuel nodded. Yeah. Looks like you got it.
Now it was Sam's turn to smirk. "Yeah, I know what it means. Do you?"
And Samuel found himself flying yet again.
Samuel pushed himself off the ground, eyes flaring to an identical black and red. "Not exactly what I had in mind, but plans change."
Jon made a flying dive over to his duffel, pulling out a handled knife and tossing Dean one as well. Dean caught it preparing to stand next to his brother- possessed or not, when Sam's voice rang out, the Latin whisper now gone. "Dean, go."
Dean paused, assessing the scene before him. Samuel and his brother standing rigid as they faced each other, Jon standing behind him, weapons in hand, and Jim had disappeared down the halls and corners with Tara; probably to get help. No way was he leaving his brother. "What? No!"
"Dean!" Dean swore he heard an echo in his head. "Leave."
As if by magic a strong force of wind tunneled through the hall, whipping around the sandy haired hunter, pushing him away from Sam. Jon seemed to be caught in the same gale. For a minute they struggled against it, till it pushed them around the corner and Jon tugged on Dean's sleeve. "It's your brother. He's pushing us to the exit."
"But I need to go back." Dean argued.
"No," Jon insisted. "We need to get armed. Just go with it until we can get our guns, then we'll come back."
Dean hesitated but knew there was no way he push his way back to Sam and help him without some kind of gun to help. He nodded his acceptance of the plan just as a final gust of wind pushed them down the final hallway and into the main lobby, before it stopped altogether causing both men to fall over- Jon straight backwards and Dean off to the side.
Groaning, Dean pushed himself up on his knees behind the information desk. That's when he realized what he landed next to. Vacant brown eyes stared up at him from the horror stricken face of the receptionist laying bleeding on the hard floor.
"Ah!" Dean scrambled away, crab-walking out from behind the desk only to become conscious of how much safer and more pleasant it was behind it.
"What the-. . ." He heard Jon breathe.
Strewn all around the large lobby were the bodies of agents, all of them laying in the now single puddle of sticky blood. Their stares were blank and every face was contorted in looks of disbelief and terror. Many had guns sitting limply next to their hands. The blood was everywhere. Staining the walls and spattered against the doors and windows in what could be considered as some sick form of red splatter art.
Dean couldn't pull his eyes away from the mass slaughter, even as the sickening smell of copper infiltrated his nose. But it wasn't just copper. . . there was, sulphur?
Jon made his way over to the receptionist, noticing the long tears ripping through her clothes and digging into her skin. He quickly confirmed that every agent, man and woman alike all were mutilated in the same fashion, some to point of being mauled. The evidence pointed to one thing, though he hoped beyond hope that he was wrong. "Hellhounds."
The low growl from behind a far away pillar confirmed it.
Dean took a nervous step back as a large black german shepherd padded silently into their view, teeth bared, hackles raised and ears laid back aggressively, eyes shining a piercing red. It's paws and snout were stained crimson along with other splotches of the viscous liquid dotting it's smooth fur. He had only known of the invisible hellhounds who dragged people down to Hell after their deals were done, but this was completely different. Drops of saliva and blood dripped down to the floor beneath it, creating mini pink puddles, announcing to Dean just how bloodthirsty the creature currently was. He tensed up, not sure what he could do to stop his impending disembowelment.
Jon seemed a bit more relaxed however at the sudden appearance of the growling dog. "Good. He's corporeal."
"Good? How is this good?" Dean asked quietly, not wanting to make the animal strike.
"Well," Jon shrugged, slowly tightening his grip on the knife. "At least there's only one."
He spoke too soon.
- - -supernatural- - -
A/N: It's attack of the evil cliffies! (ducks) Okay, seriously people, where are you getting all those vegetables? You've been saving them for this haven't you? Well it doesn't matter, I'm not going back to un-cliffhanger it so you can just be patient. (Or complain venomously in your reviews. Doesn't really matter which.)
But about the actual story, I hope you're enjoying this part as much as I am. If you were unsure what was going on with Sammy, then here's a bit of an explanation. He was absorbing things coming from Samuel. So now he has a bit of Samuel in him. Pretty simple huh! And it's about stinking time I added some kick-ass evil creatures, don't you think? I guess hellhounds might sound a little extreme, but possessed squirrels just sounded ridiculous! ;)
Alright guys, you know what's next. It's that time of the day where people around the globe press that little button called 'review' and leave words of encouragement, praise, and adoration! If any of these describe how you feel about me and/or my story, please drop me a line. Hope to hear from you all.
Your evil writer friend - Kerri