Family Secrets: Part two – Chapter 16
I know a cold as cold as it gets
I know a darkness that's darker than coal
A wind that blows as cold as it gets
Blew out the light of my soul
Blew out the light of my soul
Patty Griffin – Cold as it Gets
"There's a wealth of demon sign; freak weather patterns, cattle mutilations... just outside of Dodge City, Kansas." Sam was at the kitchen table sipping coffee and studying the pages on the computer.
"So we're headed to Kansas?" Alta gulped the last of her coffee.
"Yea looks like. I'll pack the car."
"I'll pack the bags and be out in a few." She stopped Sam at the door. "Are we taking the colt?"
"Yea, we'll stop by Bobby's. Dean may want in on this one."
... ... ...
It didn't do much for Dean's mood to be driving alone for 10 hours with nothing to do but seethe over the fact that Lisa lied to him. He'd gone over and over every scenario he could think of and it just didn't add up to anything he wanted to think about. He cared for Lisa… a lot… and he'd grown to love her over the past year. And that love included trust. He just couldn't fathom the Lisa he loved lying about anything especially not something as important as Ben being his son. In Dean's mind, it just didn't make sense. In one moment, his one chance for a normal life, or at least as close as a Winchester could be to a normal life, came crashing down around him.
Sam had been in the car with Alta all day. He drove the Charger and they followed Dean in the Impala. They had talked about everything. He told her things he'd never told anyone. He talked about his childhood… school… moving around; being a nomad… Dad… Dean... training since he was a kid… She was the only woman he'd ever met who could understand how he'd been raised. He spilled out most of his life to her. And he learned about her. She talked about being raised in the Campbell clan… her Mom and Dad… Gwyn… He didn't talk about Jess… she didn't mention any old boyfriends. And he didn't talk about Hell… about being in the cage. They kept those parts of themselves hidden.
Dodge City was a small town with a wild west historic down town, 10hours from Sioux Falls. The three hunters were a little road weary when they hit town. Two rooms beside each other at the Thunderbird motel and a late dinner at the Broken Spoke Bar and Grill and they all felt a little better.
"There's a poker game going on in the back room." Dean gave Sam a knowing smile. "Want to try to hustle up a little money?"
Sam considered it. He glanced at Alta. "Pool tables…" He nodded toward the tables in the back of the room.
Alta sized up the players. There didn't seem to be any challenge there or any potential for hustling cash. "I'm going back to the motel. You stay if you want to." She finished up her drink. Sam's eyes followed her as she walked toward the door. She never tried to look sexy, but Sam knew just exactly how it felt to cup her cute denim clad ass in his hands. He thought it fit just perfectly, his big hands covering every inch of it. When she reached the door, she glanced back at him; her auburn hair flowing around to reveal the slight smile on her lips and Sam thought about how perfectly his lips fit over hers and how she tasted when he slipped his tongue across them and dipped into her mouth. When she stepped out and the door closed behind her he turned to see Dean staring at him.
"You are so hooked on her, man. Are you in heat?" Dean snickered but there was a hint of something in Dean's comment that Sam couldn't quite catch. A hint of jealousy, maybe?
"We're in love." Sam stated without hesitating. "I love her so much I just…"
"Good for you." Dean interrupted.
"What's up with you?" Sam knew Dean would hold onto whatever was bothering him. But if he kept pecking at it, Dean would let it out eventually.
"Nothing." Dean downed the rest of his whisky and motioned the waitress for another.
"Hey. I've seen you follow Lisa around like a dog in heat. I lived with you for months, remember. You feel the same way about her."
"Yea, well things change."
"Overnight?"
"Yea, sometimes."
"You two have a fight or something?"
Dean took a gulp from the fresh drink the waitress had brought. "I'm going to play a little poker. Go. Spend some time together." He motioned toward the door. "See you in the morning."
"You sure?" Sam searched his brother's face. "You want to tell me what's going on?"
Dean rolled his eyes and stood, grabbing his drink and effectively turning off the conversation. "Go."
… … …
Dean Winchester had an innate ability to read people and that was a good skill to have when playing poker. He joined a table to make the fourth player. Besides him there was a tall thin man with long strait brown hair. He wore it pulled back, tied with a leather strip and the ends of his long sideburns curled around in front of his ears. Dean noticed that he didn't talk much, hardly at all really. Mostly he gave hand signals and head nods. What an arrogant dick.
There was an Albino. He was also tall and thin. He covered his eyes with sunglasses and Dean wondered if they were really pink, like an albino rabbit. Wouldn't that be awesome? He had a sudden urge to rip the glasses off his face and see for himself but it was just one of Dean's passing thoughts; one he wouldn't act on.
A woman sat opposite him at the table. She was tall with long black hair. Her long fingernails were painted blood red and she wore a ring on every one of her long thin fingers. Her dark eyes followed Dean. She gave him the creeps. She looks like she's dressed up for Halloween. Dean thought all three of the other players were weird. But for once his hunting instincts had been dulled. He drank too much last night while Bobby alternately called him an idjit for leaving Lisa and bemoaned the lonely life of a hunter. Dean got no sleep at all. And he'd already had several drinks with supper so he had every reason to be off his game tonight.
Dean had no way to know that the last time these three sat at a poker table with a Winchester it was with Sam in Omaha and they had followed Alta to find him. Unfortunately the brawl at the pool table had pulled Sam away from the game and thwarted their plans. This time the Winchesters had found them and they had Dean instead of Sam. Perhaps this Winchester would stay in the game.
… … …
It didn't take Sam long to follow Alta back to their room. He slipped in just as she was coming out of the shower. She was wrapped in a white towel and shaking out her wet hair. She stepped in front of the mirror and began to blow dry her hair. He stepped behind her and locked eyes with her in the mirror. She knew those dark steamy eyes, that almost smile on his lips and she flushed at the site of him watching her with such hunger in his eyes. He reached up and ran his hands through her hair, holding it out and letting it fall slowly, strand by strand through the air of the dryer. He didn't keep this up long before he took the dryer from her, cut it off and laid it on the dresser. He reached around her to undo the towel and let it fall to the floor.
They locked eyes in the mirror as he pulled her against him. She felt his hard body against her back; the soft material of his shirt, the rough denim of his jeans. He pulled her hands to reach up around his neck and let his hands slowly slide down her arms to cup her breasts. She quivered and her nipples tightened and tingled as he rubbed them against his palms. Alta watched her body as her hips rolled against him and she gazed at his face when he groaned, his eyes closing to savor the feel of her responding to him. She watched his hands… his big beautiful hands… so graceful as he slid them down her body. He bent his head down to nuzzle at her neck and she felt his long hair like feathers across her shoulder.
Sam pulled her closer, he swelled painfully against the confining jeans as he tasted her soft neck and smelled her clean skin… no perfume… no flowery scent… nothing but the pure smell of his lover; her unique scent. She moved back against him, opening herself, giving him access to her and he licked his tongue along her neck up to her ear. "Beautiful… sexy…" He snaked his hand lower to rake his fingers through her hair and explore her depths with one long finger. He felt her hot and wet; swelling with his touch and it caused an answering burning deep in his belly. He slid his wet finger across her throbbing core, whispering and holding her close as she moaned and pulled against his neck; her legs weak. "So hot… look…" Her eyes fluttered open and she saw him watching her reflection. She saw herself flushed and gasping, her breasts tight and swelling with each gasping breath. He watched her as she struggled against a wave of passion. He stroked her softly and as she gasped he murmured in her ear.
"Sam…" She whispered… pleading.
"I know baby… I know… I got you…" He scooped her up and carried her to the bed. She was desperately grabbing at his clothes, whimpering and begging with her eyes and her hands. He loved to see her so hot and ready for him. He quickly pulled off his clothes and fell on the bed beside her, pulling her on top of him. She straddled his hips and he watched the desire on her face, her eyes closed, and her lips pouting. He guided her onto him, savoring the feel of her hot velvet body gliding down on him, tight and slick and he watched as she danced, rocking rhythmically on him causing waves of pleasure to shoot through his gut… gathering hot in his center. She heard him gasping and saw his smoky eyes enjoying the sight of her body and it made her feel sexy, made her bolder and she began to watch and move in the ways that she could see pleased him the most, arching as his hands ran across her body, following his lead as his hands covered her ass, pulling her to him and arching up to meet her with deep thrusts.
… … …
Even tipsy Dean was a better poker player than most. As the game went on he knew one thing for sure. These three worked together. They were not strangers to each other. There was a reason they were here and it wasn't a poker game. They took turns losing, not enough to be played out of the game, but enough to keep Dean winning and occupied at the table.
"Tell me something." Dean decided the poker game wasn't the one he should be trying to win and whatever they were, whatever they wanted he would rather meet it head on. "Are you Angels or are you demons?"
"You don't have to fear us. We are not demons." The long haired quiet one, the one Dean thought acted like such a dick, spoke. "We are Angels. I am Zagzagel."
"I don't find that comforting." Dean ground out. "In my experience Angels are even bigger dicks than demons." he smirked. "Harder to kill."
"I assure you, we mean you no harm." The witchy looking one answered. "I am Tabbris."
"Still not convinced." Dean threw down his cards. "This is not about the game so why don't you just cut to the chase. What do you want?"
"Our business is with Sam." The Albino answered.
"Yea? Well, he's not here." Dean's eyes were cold, hard and challenging. "So… I suggest you come clean. What do you want with my brother?"
"Why are you so hostile?" Zagzagel questioned. "You don't yet know the reason for this encounter."
Dean's eyes focused on Zagzagel. "Why don't you just tell me the reason for this encounter?"
"We've come to help you and your brother. Castiel has convinced us that you Winchesters will right the wrongs that have put heaven and hell into chaos." Zagzagel answered.
"And just exactly how are you going to help us?" Dean eyed all three of the Angels. "What kind of deal do we have to make for your help?"
"Finish the game." The Albino spoke.
"And you are…" Dean's eyes narrowed as he focused on the Albino.
"I am Forcas. Many people pray to me to return lost property." His hands lowered to his lap and he brought out a knife and laid it on the table as his bet. "All in." His eyes met Dean's hard stare.
Dean's eyes moved from the face of Forcas to the wager in the middle of the table. On top of the chips lay Ruby's knife. Each of the four players was all in for this pot. Sweat popped out across Dean's upper lip as his tongue gingerly touched it. Everything depended on this hand. He had to play it well… It might be the most important hand he'd ever played.
… … …
Sam appeared to be sleeping as he slid his hand under his pillow and gripped his silver butterfly. Alta was not in the bed with him and he could hear the breathing of more than one person in the room. He smelled fear... fear and something else he couldn't quite figure out. He pinpointed the direction of the loudest breathing... the closest... person...
Sam's muscles tensed, ready to spring. When he was sure he had the closest target located, he threw the covers back with one hand, his other came out from under the pillow, flipping the butterfly open. In one smooth move he landed on one foot, the other propelling him forward, toward his target. Sam grabbed the hunter and spun him around until he held him by his chin, pulling back to expose the throat; his knife lay across the tender skin.
"I killed you one time, Sam but you just can't seem to stay dead." The second hunter smiled as Sam lifted his gaze and saw him holding Alta, a gun to her head. Her eyes were glazed and half closed, her head wobbled and her face was slack. He didn't see any wounds, no blood. He thought she might be drugged. "Drop your weapon Sam or she gets it."
Sam lowered his knife and released the hunter. He moved away from Sam's grasp and Sam's knife hit the floor. "Roy." Sam's voice was soft. His eyes were dark and narrowed. "Walt." He glared at the hunter who held Alta slumped against his body and squared himself to face them. Sam stood tall, his chest bowed out, his hands fisted at his sides, the muscles in his arms and neck tight with rage.
He remembered these two. Walt shot him. He remembered the pain as the shotgun blast tore through his chest. He remembered he died. He knew one of them had killed Dean. They ended up in heaven... "Dark Side of the Moon" as Dean recalled that particular adventure. Cas lost faith in God... Dean lost faith in him... and Sam had watched helplessly as Dean dropped the pendant he had given him, the pendant Dean had worn for fifteen years, into the trash can as they left the motel room. These were emotionally painful memories for Sam and it made his blood boil to see these two...
For all his anger, Sam realized that as long as Walt had Alta at gun point, he was helpless. He couldn't risk her being shot point blank and she couldn't defend herself or help him fight. He doubted she was even aware what was going on. If she was aware, she couldn't do anything about it. Sam sighed, unclenched his fists and raised his hands. "You got me. Let her go."
"Can't do that. We need her too. Big money for you two... alive." Roy raised his gun, smacked the butt on Sam's head and everything went blank.
… … …
Dean hesitated at the door of Sam and Alta's room. He hated to interrupt anything. He was glad that Sam had found someone that made him as happy as he seemed to be with Alta. And he had to admit she had been through more with Sam than most any woman could stand. But this was big… really big and damn it, they were on a job. And the job was first priority. He knocked and got no answer. He knocked again. Suddenly something didn't feel right. Dean dropped to one knee and took out his lock picks. Working frantically on the door he popped it open and stepped inside the fully lit room… the empty, fully lit room. They didn't just step out somewhere, Dean could read the signs. His eyes fell on Sam's knife lying where he'd dropped it. They've been taken. Sonofabitch!
Dean ran to his room to pick up the colt and check his computer for the GPS signal on Sam's phone. "I'm coming, Sammy." Dean mumbled to himself.
… … …
His hands and feet were tied... pulled tight and stretched out. Sam's mind raced. How did I get here? Why am I back here? Panic welled up in him. No... no... no! This can't be! His body shook as he expected pain... the pain that always came... the pain was always there... He waited.
"Sam!" Not Lucifer's voice... "Come on Sam. It's time to wake up."
Sam's eyes fluttered and he saw Alta. He squeezed his eyes shut as if he could will her away. She can't be here... not here... no... she can't... But she was here... But here wasn't where he thought. It wasn't the cage. It wasn't Hell.
"Come on, Sam." He felt a slap across his face. It feels like the cage... No... Please...
Sam's eyes opened. Alta was awake, her green eyes fearful. She was tied to a chair, her arms bound tightly to the arms and her ankles tied to the chair legs. Her fingers glowed white as she desperately gripped the chair.
Alta stared at Sam tied by his hands and feet and all she could think about was the torture he had already endured; the beating from his flayed soul. She didn't want to see him suffer again. She didn't think she could bear to watch.
"Good, you're awake." Sam focused on the voice and Christian came into view.
"Pretty sure Sam killed you." Alta spit out the words.
"He did." Christian turned toward her. "But..." he raised his hands and gave a mocking smile. "Here I am... back again... better than ever."
"Thanks to Crowley, no doubt." Alta tried to keep Christian's focus on her. She could see Sam's eyes wild with fear. She knew he was panicked. He strained against the restraints that held him just as he had been held in hell, just as she had seen him held and beaten.
…
When Dean reached the abandoned warehouse he pulled the Impala off and parked a block away and approached on foot. He had the colt stuffed in the back of his pants, his pistol in his jacket along with his machete, his Bowie, Sam's butterfly and Ruby's knife. He didn't know what he would be up against and he didn't think Sam or Alta would be armed. But he was sure they would be in trouble. Everything pointed to them being taken… and he could feel it in his hunting bones.
Dean stopped at the edge of the property, covered by bushes he watched. As he waited two men came into view walking around the outside of the building. One stopped and gazed at the perimeter of the lot. Dean froze as the man's eyes traced over the place where he was crouched, hidden. Dean recognized the man. He was a hunter. Walt… He was the hunter who had shot and killed Sam then turned his gun on Dean. He remembered the pain that cut through his heart as he watched Sam's body recoil from the blast to his chest… he remembered Sam falling back onto the bed, covered in blood… dead. Dean remembered Walt shooting him… point blank… he remembered the searing pain as the bullet tore through him.
Dean remembered the other hunter… Roy. He'd promised he would kill them both. It looked like tonight would be the night he would make good on that promise. It was Roy who was with Walt that night and it was Roy who was with Walt tonight as they walked the perimeter of the building where Sam and Alta were being held. That meant they were guarding the place… they worked for someone else. And the most likely one to be holding Sam and Alta was Crowley… Dean thought for a moment… or Meg… damn it… Dean watched and waited while he formulated a plan.
…
Sam's mind was split in three. Each vying to be heard, each trying to control and it was the absolute terror of his soul that ruled this time. This was too much like the cage, too much like Hell and Sam braced himself for the torture to begin. But Christian didn't touch Sam. He had a different torture in mind. He leaned in close to Sam's ear and whispered. "You like my leftovers?" Christian leaned back, watching Sam, waiting for it to sink in. Sam's eyes cut to him, his face clearly confused. "She didn't tell you about me?" Sam's soul couldn't think of anything but the pain... He could feel the clawing, gnawing wrath of Lucifer... Could see little sparks of his soul beaten out of him and flying off into oblivion, lost forever in the depths of Hell.
Alta cringed when Christian started his verbal torture. She looked at Sam; his eyes were wide with fear, panic... She thought he was angry. Part of him heard Christian's jabs and was angry, bucking against the ropes holding him, trying to get to Christian, part of him wanted to kill Christian… again. Part of Sam saw Alta's distress… watched her shame… wanted to comfort her… wanted to save her. But Sam's soul was out of control with rage and hatred and fear… always fear… so consuming he could barely think of Alta or Christian.
"I was her first." Christian continued to make verbal jabs at Sam. "What a sweet little piece of tail she was!" Alta watched Sam as he cringed in horror and strained against his bonds. Christian turned his grinning face to Alta. He was loving this. She had spurned him all those years ago and then flaunted herself in his face for years. "We were going to be married but I guess by now you've discovered just what a cold fish she is." Tears began to form in Alta's eyes as she stared at Sam. He returned her stare with horrified eyes. Christian laughed. "Maybe you like your women frigid. I got tired of having to rape her whenever I wanted a little action." Sam's eyes rolled toward Christian. Alta couldn't tell what he was thinking. His eyes were wild… but not with anger… fear… worse than she'd ever seen. "Is that it?" Sam's eyes rolled back to Alta. "You like forcing yourself on a cold…"
"Shut up, you dick!" Alta found her voice. Sam wouldn't speak up for her; she'd speak for herself.
Christian turned toward her and back handed her, sending her reeling.
"Sonofabitch!" She screamed. He struck her again this time she didn't scream, she was out cold.
The horror Alta had seen in Sam's eyes had nothing to do with her or anything Christian had said. He barely registered that it was Christian. His soul was lost in his memories of Hell. What he saw as he gazed toward Alta was the landscape of Hell, a sea of damned souls, miserable and suffering hopeless souls. Mingled in among the damned were demons… biting, clawing, and eating their victims while they laughed. What he feared most was the face of Lucifer, the sound of his voice, the fetid smell of his breath and the groans and screams of the damned. Sam was once again in Hell, helpless and struggling.
…
Dean timed it just right and met Roy first. "Remember this face?" Dean waited, making sure it registered in his thick head just exactly who it was that was going to kill him. When the lights of recognition went on in Roy's head and his face registered the fear in the pit of his stomach, Dean shoved his Bowie into Roy's gut; slicing upward through his diaphragm and into his heart. Dean's left hand was clamped firmly over Roy's mouth to stifle any noise his might make. His next target was Walt and he didn't want to give him any warning.
Dean waited until Walt walked around the corner to be face to face with him. He quickly caught Walt in a strangle hold tight around his neck. Dean's bloody knife rested on Walt's back and his whispered words grated into Walt's ear. "Remember me? I told you I'd come back." Dean snarled. "And I told you I'd be pissed!"
"Dean? … Dean Winchester." Walt's voice was shaking. "Wait… just let me explain…"
"Yea, like you let Sam explain." Dean pulled his arm tighter around Walt's neck. "Where's my brother."
"I… I don't…" Walt never finished. Dean shoved the Bowie through his spine and let the body fall limp to the ground.
"Never mind." He looked down at the body. "I'll find him myself."
Dean made his way around to a side door and knelt down to pick the lock. He eased into the building and found himself at the end of a long hall. A light shown into the hall from a window in the door at the far end. He heard Alta scream… "sonofabitch" and he heard the echo of the slap that knocked her out. He made his way down the hallway cautiously and peered into the window. Sam was strung up by his hands and feet and just as Alta had remembered, Dean also remembered the way Sam had suffered the last time he'd seen him strung up like that. It made Dean's blood boil. He wanted to bust into the room and… Dean reined in his temper. This was no time to lose his cool. He needed to be cautious. He needed to get it right.
Between Sam and Alta was Christian. He had to be a demon. Sam had killed him… Dean took in the rest of the room. Just as he thought, Crowley was off to the side watching from the shadows. Dean needed a plan… he needed a plan desperately… What the Hell am I going to do? He could see that Sam was out of his mind. When he got Sam loose he wasn't sure he would be much help and now Alta was out cold. She wouldn't be any help either. He was going to have to pull something out of his ass to get them to safety and right now Dean was drawing a blank.
A soft hand touched his arm and Dean looked down to see the long ring clad fingers of Tabbris. Dean looked up into her dark eyes and she placed one long blood red tipped finger to her lips, and then pointed to Crowley. Dean watched as Crowley battled with something invisible thwarting his every move. Crowley fell to the floor as if he had been pushed. He came back up swinging at air whirling in every direction, desperately trying to make contact with something neither of them could see. Dean looked back again at Tabbris and she smiled and motioned for him to follow.
Dean followed Tabbris as she made her way to Christian. She hesitated beside Alta, bent down and touched her forehead with two long grace filled fingers. Alta was conscious, and freed from the ropes that tied her to the chair. Tabbris motioned for them both to go to Sam as she stepped in front of Christian.
Christian growled at Tabbris and made motion to fling her aside. She only smiled and it made Christian cringe. "You are only a piss ant demon… so very young. You don't have the power to hurt me." When he turned to run, she raised her hand in front of her and two long fingers motioned for him to 'come here'. Christian felt himself hauled back and planted before her. She laid her hand on his forehead and blinding light shown out of his eyes… his mouth… his ears… until his body disappeared in a bright flash.
Alta ran to Sam and grabbed the knife Dean held out for her. Together they cut Sam loose and he slumped onto his brother. Sam winced and groaned at the blinding flash that was Christian's demise. He didn't know what it really was and Dean was sure whatever Sam saw in his mind was much worse because Sam began to thrash against them; his eyes wide with desperate fear, seeing nothing real. Sam only saw what his soul was reliving in Hell.
"Sam! Sam! It's me. It's me, Sammy." Dean tried to get through to Sam. He had to get him to the car. He had to get him to safety but Sam was in fighting mode. He had no idea what he was fighting; didn't know it was his brother. Dean wouldn't be able to overpower him… afraid that if he hit him… tried to knock him out it would make Sam fight harder.
"Sam." Alta tried to get his attention. "Sam. Let us help you."
Sam stilled long enough that his eyes made contact with her. "Whore!" Sam's shout pierced through Alta as if it was a knife. He swung at her. She was too stunned by his word to duck and his fist made contact with the side of her head. She slumped to the floor. Out cold.
Tabbris turned to Dean. "Christian will not be a bother ever again." She glanced at Sam and then Alta. Her long arms reached out to Dean and Sam… two fingers on each of their heads and Sam was passed out on the back seat of the Impala and Dean was in the driver's seat.
"Well, thank you Tabbris!" Dean gave a heavy sigh and shook his head.
"I'll take care of Alta. Take Sam away from here." Tabbris's voice echoed in Dean's head.
Damn. Not bad… but you are still one creepy Angel!
TBC
Hope you all enjoy… Season 7 starts tonight and I'm sure like me all you Supernatural Fans are ready… beyond ready for the season to start so… enjoy. I know I plan to…
Thanks for all the comments, alerts and favorites for my story. You rock my world!