A/N: So, kind of a short chapter, but it sets the scene for the next one, which would have been too long if I hadn't set it up right.
So, lets see. Prisoner of War updated Friday night. Little Lost Things and How To Fix a Winchester updated yesterday.
I also have a new one shot (maybe. Might add more, I haven't decided yet) called All The Truth There Is In Me, which is some long over due season ten angst, since the writers are probably going to screw us over in that department.
Will try to get an episode of Tuesday's Child up tonight.
Also, if you're new to my work, I have several canon projects also, two of which are complete, so please take a moment if you have time and give them a look-see.
Reviews are love, this poor story is the least popular of my projects, but I love it none the less.
As Always,
EverReader
Disclaimer: Not mine
Trigger Warning: Quite a bit of cussing, and mentions of sex.
All The Pretty Monsters- Chapter Thirty Seven
"The Blood On My Hands"
Dean listened as Sam spoke with Ava over the phone. Sam was listing ingredients with the ease of an accomplished witch, which confused Dean, because as far as he knew, witchcraft was unnecessary for someone with demonic powers.
He'd never done any real research on the matter, of course, but still...
Sam snapped the phone shut brusquely. They had gotten a motel room only a few miles away from Bela's apartment. Sam had started making what he deemed were the necessary calls, while Dean was left with little to do but twiddle his damn thumbs.
"Ava is bringing a few things, and Bela is on her way. She and I will collect the last of the ingredients. Ava and I worked out a framework for a spell that should dispel the curse laid on the rabbit's foot." Sam said, snapping his phone shut.
He moved about the room with a brusque efficiency, a far cry from the bouncing energy of his childhood, or the awkward, gangling gait of his preteen years.
Dean shook his head, deciding to push his luck and see if Sam was still in the mood to answer questions. Anything to take his mind off of the musty rabbit's foot currently hanging around his neck, a literal albatross. "How do you and Ava even know spell work? I've never heard of demons using spells before."
Sam paused, obviously picking his words with care. "Many demons started off as the souls of witches damned to hell. Witches have a long history of making crossroads deals in order to gain more power. Demons have raw power, but that doesn't mean we're able to accomplish anything we want with a wave of our hands. I could throw you across the room with a wave of my hand, but it's just...blunt force power. Spells allow us to do...intricate work, specific things that simply throwing a blast of raw power would not achieve. Could I destroy the rabbit's foot? Of course, but that wouldn't necessitate your freedom from the fall out of the curse."
"So, once again, why are you saving me?" Dean said, determined to get to the bottom of Sam's on again, off again partnership.
Sometimes he wondered if Sam even understood it himself.
Sam paused, hand on the door. He looked back, an unfathomable look in his eyes. "Stay in here, Dean, whatever you do. You're the luckiest person in the world right now, but you're only lucky as long as you have the rabbit's foot in your possession. The minute you lose it, your luck's gonna head south, and fast. And trust me, that thing is just itching to be lost. It was created to cause grief and chaos."
"Wait a moment, I'm not waiting around here while you and Bela go gallavantin' around the damn city!" Dean protested, surging to his feet angrily. He wasn't some damn fool kid who needed baby sitting.
Sam narrowed his eyes, and Dean got the sense that he wished he could simply order Dean to obey, like he might his other 'siblings', but luckily for Sam, he seemed to sense that Dean required a better reason.
"You will unless you want me to have to save your ass once again. Those two goons didn't just pick John's storage unit, someone sent them there. That mean's there could be players on the board we don't know about. The sooner we break the curse, the sooner you can return to your regularly scheduled programing. If someone else gets a hold of that rabbit's foot, they'll be unstoppable, and you'll be the perfect target, and that's what that thing wants, Dean. Ava will be here soon. She'll start filling you in on the spell, when I return, we'll complete it." In a blink, he was gone, and Dean was left standing in the empty doorway like a kid too young for a scary movie.
"Sonofabitch!" Dean cursed, slamming the door shut. He paced back in forth for a few moments, trying to calm his stormy thoughts.
Sam was helping him, that was good. Granted, it was also demeaning, annoying, shaming and infuriating, but still.
Sam helping him had to be classified as good. God only knows how long it would have taken Dean to locate a spell to break the curse, even with Bobby's help.
Sam wouldn't tell him why he was helping him.
That was bad. Dean hoped it was because they were brothers, and Sam was starting to remember what that had felt like, really felt like.
But other times...
Dean couldn't help shake the feeling that Sam was withholding information about everything (though, as often as people did that to him, he should apparently be getting used to that feeling by now.)
And something about the Talbot woman struck him as fishy also.
He wondered if there was something more between her and Sam, something that he couldn't quite put his finger on, though he could sense it.
He flopped down heavily on the couch, picking up the remote and attempting to channel surf for a few moments, but nothing held his attention.
He glanced over at the door longingly for a moment, before sighing and turning back to the TV.
A few moments passed, and Dean was getting even more antsy. Never one for idle stillness, he decided to chance going outside. He wouldn't go far, hell, he wouldn't even leave the parking lot. The Impala needed cleaning out, and he could always rearrange to trunk.
He stepped out into the late afternoon sunlight, breathing in deeply, already feeling better outside of the confines of the motel room. He began walking towards the Impala, but half-way across the lot, a feeling of wrongness swept over him, one he was able to identify almost immediately.
He was being watched.
He pivoted smoothly, one hand reaching for his gun while the other flew up, double checking that the rabbit's foot was still securely attached to his amulet.
It was gone, and wasn't that just fucking fantastic.
"Lose something?" A dark haired woman stood before him, smile sharp and eyes glinting evilly.
Perhaps it was all the time he had recently spent around Sam and the other arch demons, but Dean could instantly sense the demonic aura around her.
Demon, no doubt about that.
Was this the one who had tried to draw John out of hiding by breaking into the storage locker?
"Who the fuck are you?" He bit out warily, remembering Sam's warnings of the dire consequences of losing track of the rabbits foot.
To bad he'd never learned to take directions very well.
"My name's Ruby, not that it matters to you." The woman's smirk widened as she sauntered closer, tossing her dark curls over her shoulder. "Or, at least, it won't matter for long. We've been looking for your little brother Sam for a long time now, Dean. And now, thanks to you, he's going to come right to us."
"Like hell." Dean exclaimed, firing his piece.
To late, he remembered his newly bad luck.
His gun jammed, and before he had time to reload, a blinding pain came from behind him, and he slumped to the ground as the world greyed out around him.
Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural Supernatural
Ava stalked into the empty motel room, Gabe close on her heels, every sense on red alert.
Gabe was much the same, she could feel the unease coiling through him, though a glance in his direction showed no outward sign of his wariness. He walked a little closer to her than usual, perhaps, but that was all.
It was enough to make her wary of more than whatever demon had been there in the past half an hour.
"Well, looks like someone borrowed your boy, Ava." Gabe said lightly, eyes narrowed as he took in the ransacked room.
It had obviously been quickly and brutally tossed, mattress eschew, lamp knocked over and shade crumpled. Dean's gear was splayed about.
But more than that...
"Obviously." She agreed, lips pressed together. To say that Sam would be unhappy would be an understatement.
"I should have gotten here sooner..." She murmured. Damn Winchester. He might be Sam's brother, but righteous man or not, he was a hell of a lot of trouble.
Gabe glanced at her, a calculating look in his eyes. "Surely your king is more understanding than that." His voice was challenging, but she ignored him, kneeling down and placing a hand on the ground, reaching out with her senses.
It had been a demon, and a human with it.
And not just any demon, but a familiar one, a remembered taste of sulfur and ash on her tongue when she licked her lips.
"Ruby." She spoke the word lowly, like a damnation, a curse, and to her, it was.
Ruby had befriended them, lifetimes ago.
She had taught Ava and Sam the basics of witch craft, along with a few of the others who had shown skill in that area. The others hadn't survived, but she and Sam had, living long enough to not only no longer require Ruby's tutelage, but to discern the traitorous nature of the she-demon. Sam had always been wary of her, but allies had been few and far between, and they had been much younger then.
Ava knew the deep hurt Ruby's betrayal had lashed upon her soul, and she knew it was the same for Sam.
Ruby's betrayal hadn't just meant broken trust, or friendship lost. Azazel had instructed Ruby to befriend them and then betray them, purposefully getting caught, in attempt to destroy their hope.
Ava was going to rip out her heart and enjoy the waste of Ruby's bitter blood seeping into the earth.
A ripple of energy announced Sam's presence and she turned to face the man who was her brother and her king.
His lips peeled back in a snarl, sensing almost instantly what she had already discerned.
Their eyes met, and he nodded once, tersely, as he crossed the threshold of the room.
Permission granted.
Ava felt that dark, cold glee blanket over her, the same razor edged shroud she had wrapped herself in whenever she had tortured for Azazel, after Sam had killed Alistair. It cut as much as it shielded, a memory-haze of pain and blood and fury, and she felt a matching snarl creep across her face.
Time to remember what she truly was. Time to get back to basics.
She drew her knife, advancing on her king. She held out her palm, tilting her head back to meet Sam's eyes.
"Blood calls to blood." She murmured lowly.
Without hesitation, he held out his palm and she moved swiftly, running the edge of her blade across his palm. Blood welled, sluggish and dark, and she closed her hand over the wound, digging her fingers viciously into the cut. The spell was harsh and fast, but Sam didn't so much as flinch.
This magic was dark and dirty, quick sex in a trash-strewn ally compared to the spells she had been working since they'd been topside, but there was too much history between her and her brother for anything between them to ever simply be kind.
Hate and pain and devotion ran thick and fast between them, between all the arch demons, and the cruelty of her actions only urged the spell higher, faster, farther.
This was blood magic, dark and raw, and she didn't ask for what she was seeking, she demanded it, knowing Sam was strong enough to withstand the blunt force of her spell.
Dean was Sam's blood, as much as any of them, and very little was strong enough to block her spell with Sam's blood acting as the medium.
Soon enough, images began to flood her mind.
She could feel the presence of the others, Bela's soul a dim, sputtering flame in the dark, Gabe's a brighter light, like a sun poised behind her, casting long shadows, but she ignored them.
What she saw had a low, feral growl rising from deep within her, animalistic and fierce. She yanked back her hand, breaking the connection as she met Sam's eyes with her own fever-bright ones.
"I know where she is. But there's more." There wasn't enough air in the room for what she said next.
"She has Gordon Walker with her."
She barely breathed the words, but instantly, everything changed.
She could feel the electric charge in the air, as if continents were shifting and planets were aligning.
The others sensed it, Bela tensing as if readying for flight, Gabe straightening his spine and gliding closer, trying to grasp the importance of her words.
Gordon Walker was their holy grail.
Ruby on her own had been a dangerous but long sought after adversary. Taking Dean had moved her to the top of Sam's hit list.
Azazel and Rainier and the angels were all going to get what they had coming to them also, but at the end of the day, they were just monsters who had acted monstrously.
But Gordon Walker...
But Gordon Walker had been the one to start it all. The one who had killed the brother none of them had ever met, the one to trigger all the hell that had literally rained down upon the other forty three of them.
They had dreamed of hunting Gordon Walker the way other kids dreamed of Christmas and birthdays and first dates.
Sam's eyes were still locked on hers, as she waited for instruction. Normally, they would call in all the others, allow their siblings to share in one of the few victories of their too short-too long lives, but Dean as a hostage changed the scenario.
Ava didn't know why the witch-bitch had Walker with her, but the reasons were undoubtedly nefarious.
Good.
Sometimes Ava thought the most honest thing about herself was the blood on her hands.