Brady arrived at Jerry's Halloween Party with his usual swagger, although he was slightly late, sidetracked by hookers and drugs. He'd chosen to dress as what he was. Red cape, devil horns, pitch fork. He contemplated not bothering to hide his black eyes. He figured he could say they were contacts. But for the party, he left them blue.
Jerry ushered him in, clapped him on the shoulder and announced "Devil in da House!"
"Demon," Brady corrected with a wink.
Jerry handed him a shot. "You've got the horns and pitchfork and shit. You're the devil, quit playin."
Jerry was sporting a gerry curl wig, white socks and single glove. Michael Jackson circa 1980s.
Brady downed the shot and looked around for Sam. "We prefer Demon." He said lightly.
Jerry laughed and raised an eyebrow. "Are demons a misrepresented minority?"
"Actually, yes. Think of how much stereotyping there is with my kind. Everyone assumes we have bad motives. Don't even give us a chance."
"I hear that." Jerry said without irony.
"So the PC Term is demon." Brady flashed a perfect white grin. "Devil is so...18th century Salem."
As he spoke, his attention honed in on Sam sitting quietly at a high top table. Jessica was standing next to him, looking like a 1940s pin up, her sky high legs in fishnets, those lush lips in Ruby red matte lipstick.
She wore the obligatory slut Halloween costume for sexy college girls. A version of a naughty cop, fake cuffs at her side-oh what he would do to her with those-her hair partly pulled up underneath the brim of a blue hat. She looked hot.
Sam was in his usual tan canvas jacket, his eyes reading that he wanted to go home.
Brady, gave his plastic pitchfork a twirl and briefly wondered why they didn't really use them in Hell. They would be an exquisite tool of torture if wielded with finesse. Even without finesse they'd be fairly horrible.
He extracted himself from Jerry and slid over to the table, finding more than a little satisfied amusement that Halloween offered him the opportunity to come out of the closet as it were. Show these morons who he was and have them brush it off with a laugh.
He almost wanted to tell Jerry that Michael Jackson's 20 year deal was just about to come due.
Instead, he crashed the table where Sam sat radiating all the enthusiasm of a man dragged somewhere to help pick out purses.
"Having fun, Sam?"
Sam rolled his eyes up to meet Brady's. "Hey."
Jess took a sip of her drink. She was clearly a little looser than usual. Brady's eyes dove to her cleavage.
"I thought Jerry's party would be too low key for you, Tyson." Sam said.
"Nah! I'll liven up anything I'm at." He gave Jessica a flirty glance. "Man, so will she. Gonna get arrested later, Sam?"
Sam gave his lopsided grin. "I kinda hope I do."
Brady saw the little flirt charged look that passed between them before Jessica looked up. "Sam is gonna be a baaaad boy later," she said with a wink. "Well now that Brady is here to keep you company, Sam, I'm gonna mingle."
Sam nodded. "Okay."
"So you look as socially adept as always." Brady replied, sliding onto a stool.
He itched his nose against the back of his hand. The lines of coke he'd done earlier had the insides of his nose tingling.
"You know I don't like parties much."
Sam had his eye on a zombie costume for a minute and turned his gaze away. Brady could read the tension. So young Sam Winchester remembered a little more of his previous life than he wanted to. Sam was made uneasy by the monsters and ghosts and ghouls around him. Even though they were all human. Which in Brady's experience were far worse than any supernatural entity.
Although, he thought wryly, supernatural was the wrong term for them. They were natural. All of them. They just moved and acted by rules that humans didn't grasp.
"Hey you look like you're having some kind of PTSD flashback, Sammy."
That jolted Sam right back to full attention before the words were finished coming out of his mouth.
"You know I hate being called Sammy. It's Sam."
"Geez. Okay. But Sammy fits you bet-"
"No." He replied flatly.
"Me-ow!" Brady grinned against the rim of his glass. "Pissy."
"I'm sorry." Sam huffed. "I just...these things make me on edge."
"I know. People. Fun. It's just...too much."
Sam gave him a flash of dimples. "Yeah touche."
"Someday you will earn The Introvert of the Year Award. But today is not that day." Brady slapped him on the back. He looked at Jessica's shapely ass. "Man, I don't know what that girl sees in you."
Sam cocked an eyebrow. "Actually, me either."
Sam froze like a rabbit in headlights. "Shit." He said.
"What?" Brady looked up.
"Isn't that one of the guys we got into the fight with?" Sam said in a hushed tone.
"Gotta be more specific than that, Sam."
"The one we kept from raping that girl. Tom...something?"
Brady looked up. And he'd be damned. It was Tom. And along with him was that little brunette bitch. Which wasn't a surprise, really. They always went back. Always.
Sensing he was being observed, he looked up and his eyes met Brady's. Tom was still undeniably a demon. Brady could see the meat suit, but he could also see the twisted demonic visage underneath. Somehow it surprised him that Sam had noticed his presence before himself. Guess the Winchester still did have some of the instincts Azazel was so afraid he'd lost.
"Yeah, okay." Sam stood up. "I'm not sticking around for this."
"Relax." Brady swept his red cape over his shoulder with aplomb and approached.
The girl, Shelley, looked at him with open hostility but took a step back. "Leave him alone."
Brady snorted at her pretend boldness. Like he didn't have the power to snap her in half with a wave of his wrist and then violate the cooling body if the urge struck him.
Tom pushed her back with his arm. "You don't need to defend me, Shelley. Go get a drink. I'm having a word here."
He stepped forward, tilted his head, dropped his voice. "Fancy meeting you here."
Brady nodded. "Why are you here?"
"My father gave me an assignment to test Sam's metal." He shrugged. "I got bored. Decided to hang around and observe."
Brady called his bluff. "Checking up on me?"
"Maybe." Tom narrowed his gaze.
Brady couldn't hide a sneer. "I don't need to be babysat."
"Azazel has final say on that." Tom replied, daring him to step out of line with his tone.
Brady backed down. Azazel was a scary fucker. He knew better.
"Well I'm doing my job."
"I may only stick around a bit longer. Bound to get bored of this vacation anyway. The prospect of a new meat suit holds some appeal. I've ridden this one pretty hard." Tom arched an eyebrow. Do your job and we'll be fine. Keep the Winchester from losing his edge."
He turned and was swallowed by the crowd.
Jessica followed behind Sam, her heels clopping a little drunkenly on the pavement as he walked ahead of her, his hand interlaced with her own, dragging her behind him like an errant child.
"Jeez, Sam!" She said, her ankle turning sideways a little with an ominous scuffing sound of her stiletto. She tugged her hand out of his grasp. In heels she was actually nearly his height. "Slow down, will ya!"
Sam lurched backward with her dead weight.
"What is your problem?" She asked, bending to adjust her miniskirt. "You just drag me out of there and start hauling me down the street like the devil is after us."
Sam glanced over her head to survey the door to Jerry's place. "Look. There's someone I don't want to talk to in there."
She turned her lovely head. "Who?"
Sam took her arm. "I'll tell you later."
She stuck out her glossed lip in a pout. "Tell me now."
"Jess..." Sam realized his logical process might not be well received by her in her current inebriated state. "Baby, I'll tell you later, okay?"
"An ex?"
"No." Sam replied. Half truth. Always go with half truth. "Brady and I got into a fist fight with him last year."
She snorted. "You? A fist fight? Come on, Sam."
Oh, if only she knew how many countless fights he'd been involved in as the new geeky kid in every school, as the pretty boy teen in every beat up motel he and Dean stayed at. Although he'd never had that as bad as his brother.
"Yeah...I've had my share of fist fights in my life, you know. But I don't want another one. So can we just leave?"
He saw her considering. "I was having fun."
"Well me busting someone's lip isn't going to be fun."
"What was the fight over?"
Sam grabbed her arm and started to haul her down the manicured sidewalk. A sidewalk that hadn't seen the hardship of the cracked ones he'd traversed his whole childhood.
Too late. Confrontation was imminent.
"Take your blonde bitch and leave! Never mind ruining my life!" Jess whirled at the remark, took in the brunette that had come down the steps and followed them a few paces. She seemed plastered. The night wasn't even that old.
"What the hell?" Jess asked, straightening up.
"Jess ignore her. She's drunk." Sam tightened his grip on his girlfriend's arm.
"Who is she?" Jess tugged out of his grip again.
Sam turned around and almost walked right into Tom. His eyes went wide and he sidestepped before his brain even had time to process the question of: how the hell did he get over here so quickly?
They met eyes and stood for a moment, sizing each other up like two stray dogs.
Tom grabbed for Sam's collar as Sam tried to pull back out of his reach. He didn't summon quite enough speed to stop it. Tom's fingers closed around his jacket and he gave Sam a hard shove. Sam staggered back several feet with the force but kept his balance. He shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, his hands palms out in front of his face, feigning trying to placate his opponent, but in actuality, ready to deflect any punches thrown. "Hey...think about what you're doing."
He could feel Jessica's confusion behind him. "Jess," Sam added levelly. "Stay out of the way."
Sam's eyes went back to his Tom's dark gaze. "Why don't we just leave it here?"
He was answered with a jab that he ducked.
"Look I don't want a fight..."
The second jab he deflected but it was followed by an elbow to the side of the jaw that sent Sam sideways as a stinging redness bloomed along his cheek. He felt his adrenaline spike at the pain and now he was ready to fight.
He came in with a high swing, which Tom ducked nimbly. Sam's opponent tried to turn it into a grapple but Sam knew what he was doing and landed a kick in the back of Tom's knee to escape it.
Tom buckled a little and Sam slammed his hand down onto the other man's shoulder, hoping that would bring him down. It did but Tom grabbed Sam's arm and took the younger man with him, using Sam's body as a fulcrum to roll back up to his feet. Sam controlled his fall and rolled back up himself.
Whoever this asshole was, he had fight training.
Tom was on his feet and within seconds he had done a twisting, snaking move to spin to the other side of Sam. He reached out and grabbed Jess by the back of her long blonde hair. Her navy blue police hat went tumbling to the ground.
Jess yelled and staggered with the unexpected move and large frightened blue eyes. Sam felt a protective rage like nothing he'd ever experienced narrow his senses and almost black out his vision for a moment and every instinct was suddenly set to kill.
"Leave her out of this." He growled, and his voice was something he didn't even recognize. Commanding and several octaves lower.
Tom grinned.
"I will kill you." Sam said lowly.
Tom smiled. "Oh really?"
Jessica kicked him with her heel and he hissed and tightened his hold, giving her a little shake. "Knock it off, bitch!"
Sam used his reach to land a fist into the side of the other man's rib, causing a reflexive inhale. It forced him to momentarily loosen his grip on Jess and Sam threw him sideways away from her with all of his strength.
Tom looked mildly surprised as Sam puffed himself out to his full size, shoulders squared, suddenly a weapon and almost intimidating in his stature. He drove forward and caught Tom in the face with a right hook and a spray of blood from a loosened tooth landed on Sam's cheek and lip. He blinked at the warm droplets, wiped them away with a his sleeve, smearing them in a macabre red abstract across his face.
Tom grinned like he didn't mind that Sam had probably just broken part of his jaw. There was a strange almost madness in his eyes that may have frightened him on some level if Sam hadn't been too enraged to register it. In fact, the adrenaline seemed to spike suddenly and he didn't want to stop himself.
But suddenly people were around them shouting. "Hey, hey you two! Break it up!"
There were arms around Sam from behind that he tried to shove off. "SAM!" It was Zach's voice. "Knock it off, man!"
It pierced through the veil of adrenaline and anger. A weird heady sensation he'd seldom had really. Sam shook his head to clear it and saw that Brady was pulling Tom back.
Sam shrugged Zach off. "Got it. I'm okay man."
He leveled his gaze at Tom. "Do not touch my girlfriend again." He turned to Jess. "Are you okay?" he asked, still coming down off his hulk rage.
Jessica's lower lip was trembling a little. She nodded, her mascara smeared a little under her eyes. Her blonde hair was tangled. She looked like a rock star coming off a bender.
Sam felt the anger drain off him, although some part of him still felt weirdly elated at the confrontation.
Zach patted his back. "You okay, man?"
"I'm good." Sam said, rolling his shoulders to loosen them.
"Shit, you got that guy good."
"Look. Tell Jerry Jess and I went home. I'm sorry about the fight."
Zach nodded, cocking a black eyebrow. "Get out of here before some neighbor calls the cops. And clean yourself up."
"Sure, thanks." Sam bent down to grab the fallen police hat and tucked Jessica under his arm. He cast around to see Tom and Brady talking quietly. Shelley was nearby, her cat-eared head band askew. Sam caught her eye. She looked sad. Or maybe Sam was just sad for her.
Sam looked at himself in the mirror of the bathroom as he waited for the perpetually icy water to warm up. He looked like he'd made himself up for Halloween. Blood spatter was all over his cheek.
He leaned against the edge of the sink, steadying himself. An image of Dean's gore spattered face looking up at him from the grave stone he'd been knocked into flashed across his mind. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. It was a memory he didn't want to be saddled with. It had been one of the only times that he'd been scared of his brother. He'd seen something there. A sort of blood lust that startled Sam. He thought of his own reaction that night. Of that all consuming rage that had swept over him and wondered if he, Sam, were capable of it too.
Sam soaped his face up and scrubbed off the blood. He rinsed his skin over and over, feeling the water rush over his lips and closed eye lids. Cleansing him. He felt dirty. Impure.
He looked up and Jessica was in the door way, visible in the mirror. He shut the water off and she handed him a towel. She'd taken off her make up and slipped into cotton drawstring pants and a crop top.
She still looked shaken. "I hope that blood didn't get into your eyes or mouth."
"Pretty sure it got my mouth."
She winced. "Sam, there's like like a thousand contagious pathogens that way."
He sighed. "I know. I'm not gonna think about it. I'll be fine."
He ran the soft cotton over his face, dried under his chin. His t-shirt was soaked. He peeled it off.
"You wanna tell me what that was about?"
God. He didn't feel like he had the mental resources to deal with this right now. He thought of Dad bloody and shaken after a hunt and how he'd never given him any quarter.
"I don't know what happened. He jumped me. You saw."
"Who was he?"
"Just some guy...He was getting very...aggressive with a girl before I met you and Brady and I intervened. It turned out to be his girlfriend there. She wasn't happy to be rescued and he wasn't happy either, apparently. I think she's a mutual friend of Zach and Rebecca's. Probably why she was at the party." He snorted. "I told you I don't like Halloween."
Jessica hugged him and Sam wrapped his arms around her. "Thank you for rescuing me. I never... I didn't know you could fight like that."
"Yeah, well. Dad is an Ex-Marine."
He held her for a long time. They ended the night snuggled on the couch eating chocolates that were supposedly reserved for the Trick-or-Treaters and watching cheesy horror flicks. Except for the beginning of the night, it was the best Halloween Sam remembered.
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