Savior

"Dad… what're the iron bullets for?"

"Cold Oak, South Dakota. Place so haunted that it stands totally abandoned to this day. Sort of a, I don't know, old wives tale for hunters. Supposedly, the ghosts aren't your garden variety. Evil runs real deep there, so deep that some of the ghosts earn the title of demon. Might be too strong for just the salt."

"So, iron."

"Blessed iron. Between that and the salt…" I didn't finish my sentence, knew I didn't have to. I was risking myself, risking my first born, to get Sam back. If he wasn't already here, I'd be trying to figure out some way to leave Dean out of it. But short of knocking the kid out and locking him in the god damn trunk, I didn't think that was possible.

"Fuckin' hate Azazel."

I snorted. Because hate was starting to be a gross understatement.

"Turn that up!" I'd almost forgotten Hendrickson was there, he was so quiet, but his panicked voice cut through my thoughts. I leaned forward and turned up the volume on the radio.

"…reports are sketchy at this time, but it was believed that the fugitive Dean Winchester was being held in the jail. None of the names of the victims are being released at this time as not all the relatives have been notified."

"Jesus! What the fuck? What the fuck?"

I turned off the radio. "The demon. Apparently he didn't want any witnesses."

"Yeah," Dean threw in, "but why wait till we leave, Dad? He could have got us if he did it when he snatched Sammy. It's almost like…"

"He wants us to come." I finished the sentence for him, feeling acid eat at my stomach.

"But why?" Hendrickson's voice was harsh. "Why kill them?"

Dean shrugged. "Why the not? It'll all be blamed on me. Nationwide manhunt, right? While we're drivin' cross state to find Sammy. Why the hell not."

"Son of a bitch likes playin' games," I added. "Just another game for him. Fuckin' obstacle course. Can we get to Sammy before the cops close in on us. We gotta ditch the car, son."

Dean sighed, ran his thumb lovingly long the steering wheel, a subtle gesture that most people would probably miss. "Yeah. But we gotta borrow somethin' that can move, Dad."

"Yeah. It's the weekend after Thanksgiving."

"Car lot?"

"Car lot."

"Always wanted to try out that new Thunderbird. That retro look is sweet. And I bet it can eat up those highway miles."

"I'll call Bobby. Have him come tow the car." We both knew that even though we'd take steps to hide her, there was a chance we'd lose the Impala. She'd get caught up in the manhunt and end up in an evidence lot somewhere. Maybe we'd get her back, maybe we wouldn't. Just another casualty in Azazel's personal war, just another family member that I was apparently impotent to protect. But at least with Bobby coming for her, she'd be safe if he could get her to his place. She was a liability right now though, and Sammy came first.

Hendrickson cleared his throat from the back seat. "Wait a minute… are you talking about stealing a car?"

Dean squinted back at him briefly before snorting softly. "Dude, you just helped three suspected serial killers escape. I think a grand theft auto charge is the least of your worries."

Hendrickson fell back against the bench seat. "Point."

We'd left Hendrickson with the Impala while we liberated a new car and I was half considering leaving him there. The man was jumpy as hell and asked too damn many questions. I was a little surprised to realize the my son was serious about the kind of car he wanted to 'borrow.' The kid had always liked his cars the same way he liked his music - classic. Dean was disabling the alarm on the Thunderbird, when he suddenly went to his knees, a hand pressed to the side of his head. "Sonovabitch!"

I pulled him up with my good arm, leaned him against the car. "Son! What is it?"

"Vision," he gasped out.

"A what? Thought that was Sammy's gig?"

"I think the geeky little bastard figured out how to send me a message. He's alive, Dad. He's okay for now."

We were back on the road, five minutes out from Cold Oak. It was getting close to the witching hour, and I swear I can feel the malice in the air around this time of night. Dean seemed buoyed by the message that Sam had sent him, headache aside. We had confirmation that the kid was in Cold Oak and that he was still alive.

"We go in, we get Sam, we get out. No heroics. Sam is the mission."

"No arguments here."

"Wait," Hendrickson spoke up, and the kid did entirely too much of that. Bastard was reminding me entirely too much of Sam. And not in a good way. "What if someone else needs help?"

"We can't trust any of these kids, Hendrickson. If helping them in anyway delays and endangers our mission, we choose the mission."

"Isn't Sam one of them?" The question twisted up my gut. The son of a bitch had managed to expose every doubt and fear I'd had regarding my youngest son with five words. Because Azazel had claimed to have some sort of familial relation to Sam, and I suspected that it was a valid claim in some way because it may have been what enabled him to make an end run around that damn ritual with the scapegoat. But I wasn't about to say any of that out loud.

"No. He's one of us." I felt Dean's sideways glance like acid on my skin. He always knew when I was bullshitting, even when I wasn't willing to admit it to myself. "He's my kid," I reiterated and Dean nodded his head slightly. That I meant. That I always meant. And nothing that son of a bitch Azazel ever said could change that. "I may not always see eye to eye with him, but I trust Sam with my life. Always will."

One minute I was taunting Dad over some imaginary water boarding, the next I'm waking up literally in the middle of nowhere. I sat up, feeling a little unsteady, trying to fight back the panic. Much as I always rode Dean about it, Dad's voice was in my head just as much as it was in his. It was constant background noise, weighing in on everything I ever did. There was a time when I took great pride in doing the opposite of everything it told me to do. But right now it was helpful, reminding me that I needed to stay calm, take stock of my surroundings, try to figure out where I was and why. And how the hell I'd gotten here in the first place. Here seemed to be a ghost town. Great. And me with no salt or iron. Maybe there was some in one of the houses. Salt for protection and iron for defense. Because what use was a ghost town without the prerequisite ghosts, right? Panic was still tying my gut into knots, scratching at the edges of my awareness. But I ignored it, locked it away. Dad would be proud.

I wasn't alone here. There were three other people. Three other people with powers, who Azazel had altered, including Andy and Ava. I kept remembering what Dad said, about all the ones he knew who came into their power turning bad. And even if Dad wasn't just being delusional and I was the lone exception? I was still stuck here with four others. None of whom seemed exceptionally stable, except for Ava, and she just gave me a creepy vibe that hadn't been there the last time we'd seen each other. I don't know. Maybe I'm just being too hard on them. I was used to freaky. Hell, it was the story of my life. These people had just been introduced to it without as much as a warning. They had a right to be freaked out. Especially when they started dropping like flies.

I pulled Andy aside. "I got an idea."

He eyed me suspiciously. "Yeah?"

"Can you help me get a message to Dean? You know… beam it right into his head?"

"Dude… I like the way you think. Where is he?"

"In a… small town lock up…" Damn.

"Man… I have never seen anybody get into as much shit as the two of you."

And wasn't that just the absolute fucking truth.

I must have dozed off waiting for morning when I found myself outside again. I sighed. This was getting old.

"Hey there, Sammy. Welcome to our little family reunion."

I turned to see a man I didn't recognize. But I knew who he was. I'd heard about those yellow eyes enough. "Azazel."

He smiled brightly. "You've got real potential kid. The way you whipped everyone into line like that."

"I'm not part of your family."

"You are Sammy. Mommy dearest made sure of that."

"Just because you tricked my mother and fed me some of your blood doesn't mean anything. I'm not playing your sick game."

"Oh, he told you. Damn. I had this whole plan in mind where I'd show you what happened lo those many years ago and crush your will to fight me. Oh well."

I growled with frustration. What was with all this focus on me? What the hell was so special about me? I just… all I ever wanted was to be a guy. Just a normal every day guy with a family and nothing more exciting to look forward to then a pickup game on the weekend. "What the hell do you want from me?"

"Honestly? To help me save the world, Samuel Winchester."

That brought me up short. It was the last answer I ever would have expected. "Save it?"

"Yes. You think the Creator gives a shit about you? Seriously, Sammy! You're just a bunch of ants scurrying around to him and he's a big bully with a magnifying glass and a pot of boiling water. Look at what he's allowed to happen to you. Your mother dying so tragically, you being fed demon blood, poor little Jessica pinned to the ceiling… and all those horrible, horrible things that happened to brave heroic Dean. And what does he do to protect you? You who play by all his rules and protect his so-called innocents? Nothing. That's what. Abso-fucking-lutely nothing! Just sits around watching everything, waiting to drop the hammer on you the next time you piss him off or just for a good laugh. I can't tell you how many hunters are in the Pit, Sammy, 'cause they just. didn't. measure. up. Weren't holy enough for him. Now that's not a very good pension plan at all, you ask me."

I rubbed my eyes because this was just… weird. "It's Sam and I didn't ask you. Maybe what you say is true… but you're the one causing all the suffering I've been through. So why the hell would I help you?"

"Just between you and me, Sammy? Much as I appreciated the irony and respected the absolute soul crushing brutality, I had nothin' to do with alpha male Dean-o literally gettin' the holy hell fucked right outta that sweet little ass o' his. None of those good ol' boys were possessed… although I bet they'll make Grade A demons. Seems like you got enough evil hidden away in your foolish little hearts to make a mess of your own lives without our help. And God doesn't do a damn thing to stop us, demons or humans, from inflicting as much pain and suffering on the innocent as we want. It isn't the meekthat'll inherit the earth, boy. It's the strong, and the ruthless and the violent. Everyone else is just sheep for the slaughter. Time for you to man up, Sammy boy. What're you gonna be? A sheep or a god?"

I snorted, wondering if he believed anything he was saying. If he did then he wasn't just evil. He was completely out of his mind. "A god?"

"Morning Star can show us all how to be gods. Our own gods… answerable only to ourselves. That was always the promise, Sam. That's what got poor Adam and Eve kicked out of paradise. That's what still ticks his holiness off more than anything else. Talk about insecure."

I felt my mouth go dry. "Morning Star… you mean…"

"Beelzebub, Satan, the Devil, Lucifer, the Great Dragon. The most powerful being ever created. He's been locked away a long time, Sam. A long time. So long that he's a myth even in Hell. Most demons have never seen him and don't even believe in him anymore. But I do. I remember. He is our salvation."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"It's time to make your decision, Sam. Join us or die. Only one of you is leaving here alive. Between the hunting and your natural leadership abilities, you can get rid of the others easy as pie. You're my favorite, kid. I'm seriously rootin' for you."

"What do you need us for?"

"Not all of you. Just one. Just one to help us release Lilith. She is the path to bringing back our true master, our father."

"Why can't she just be summoned or escape like all the rest of you? Don't tell me she's not strong enough. If she can't even get out of Hell herself, how is she supposed to free Lucifer?"

"She's the strongest of us all, the first of us all. That's why she was banished by the Tyrant. She can't get out through normal means… only when someone opens the door."

"The door?"

"Haven't you read your Bible, Sam? If there's a key, there must be a door."

"I think you're the one who needs to read more. You lose, according to every holy book I've ever read."

"Propaganda. Fairytales to keep humans blind and obedient. Are you going to go ahead and do what comes natural and kill the others, Sam? Join me?"

"No. I'm going to stop you."

"No you won't. But I'm sure that you'll die trying. A waste, really."

Before I could say anything, I woke up in a cold sweat. I was still in the house, still behind the salt lines. Apparently salt did nothing to stop Azazel's ability to infiltrate my dreams. I suppose it never had, not if Dad's theory was correct that it was Azazel who gave me the visions to manipulate me. And, God, I hated how often Dad was right.

"Did you really think he would join us?"

I laughed. "No. I didn't think there was a snowballs chance back home that he'd take the bait. But the boy has to die for now, and no one can suspect that was part of the plan. I mean, what if they get ther before the kid takes his last breath and he can gasp out one final word or two? Only way I can get one of his men folk to make a deal. These Winchesters are so predictable, so noble. Not to mention obstinate. Best way to get any of 'em to say yes is to tell them that you want them to say no." I sat down next to Ruby and smoothed back her hair. She was one of my favorites.

"So you told him that Lilith will free the Master so that he'll do anything to stop her?"

"Including kill her when the time comes. That's where you come in, baby girl. You get to prove that you're the best of us all. You get to lead Sam in the way that he should go, get him to sacrifice our lamb at the appointed place and time. You get to be the one demon in the history of creation that convinces a hunter to trust her completely."

"Seems like a lot of things can go wrong with this plan."

"Yeah…. But they won't. Neither John nor Dean will be able to just let Sam go. They've spent his entire life protecting him, risk their lives for him without a second thought. One of them will fold. Might even argue over who gets the honor. Then Sam… so much frustration and impotence boiling under the surface. When the deal's made either Dean or John will be facing Hell and the other will be destroyed by it. And you'll come, riding in on a white charger, offering Sam a way to finally be powerful, to take control of his own destiny for once in his miserable little life. A way to save himself, save his family. Save the whole damn world. Don't you see the beauty of this plan, sweetness? They damn near created it themselves. There's no way they won't do what needs to be done. It always had to be them."

A/N: I have no idea why it took so long to write this chapter – maybe because none of the characters wanted to do the whole thing and I consequently changed POV three times. But I thought I was never going to get this finished, so I just finally let them do what they wanted to do. Like always.

Thanks, hpsupernaturalfan!

Here you go, winchester87… hope you enjoy!

Thanks for the review, monkeymuse. Poor Sammy probably needs to be worried about right about now.

I'm sneaky like that, redgriffin7. Thought you knew me by now! I love Hendrickson enough to want to play with him at least a little while longer. LOL.

I think people underestimate the level of Hendrickson's obsession, babyreaper. Or maybe I'm just overestimating it…

Thanks Medallionable!

Yeah, Nongpradu. Everything is topsy-turvy. It's like the butterfly effect. You change one thing and that one thing effects things that you'd never think of. One horrible thing happens to Dean, and it changed everything, but the more it changed the more some things remained the same.

Thanks, greendaypumpkin! I hope you like this one too!

Thanks, LuckyMe1!

Thanks willowtree311! I appreciate the love! Hope you enjoy this chapter too.

While the end's definitely going to be altered, rog457, the question is will it be for the better?

Here you go jeanniewood… glad you're enjoying the story.

Thanks Yammy1983!

-Angie