When the Cradle Falls
Chapter Forty-Seven: Trigger Happy
Dean glanced around uncomfortably. He smoothed the dark blue work shirt he was wearing over a gray t-shirt. The clacking of computer keys stopped suddenly. He looked up. Nearby, a woman behind a desk, with an impressive beehive structure of a hairstyle, stopped what she was typing to stare at Dean.
He gave a small wave and an unsure smile. "How's it going?"
"Hmm," she muttered to herself, gaze dropping, keyboard clicking.
The smile dropped and he took a deep breath.
A few painful moments dragged on, poignantly sharpened by the incessant clock that hung on a wall over Dean's head.
Finally, a door nearby opened and a balding man in a slacks, a dress shirt, and tie appeared. "Mr. Winchester?"
Dean jumped up and held out his hand. "Dean Winchester. Good to meet you."
"Doug Gardner. Please have a seat." The door was shut behind them. Dean took a seat, grateful that this chair was comfier than the one he had previously occupied.
Doug moved and took a seat behind his large wooden desk, shuffling through a manila folder.
Dean glanced around the room. There was a poster of a kitten hanging off a branch. HANG IN THERE! it said.
Dean was trying.
One of those mini waterfalls was on top of his desk. A silver plaque that read Principal Gardner was proudly displayed, right in front of Dean's line of sight.
"So Mr. Winchester, thanks for stopping by today."
"Of course." He swallowed a lump in his throat.
"So...let's see here. Right. Here it is. Cara Mercer. Sixth grade." Doug flipped through a few more pages. "Good grades. A's and B's. Teachers say she's an excellent writer. Good in English. It says they wish she would participate a little more in class. Overall a good student." There was a pause. "Looks like during this last quarter, she's missed more than twenty consecutive days of school." The man glanced up at Dean, as if waiting for an explanation.
Dean took a deep, indignant breath. This man-Doug-had more than eight-hundred kids in this school. Dean doubted the man could've picked out Cara in a line-up. And now here he was, judging a situation off a file.
"We've had a...lengthy family emergency."
The other man nodded slowly. "I saw the Amber Alert."
Dean nodded. "Then the school must be aware that it's been resolved. Alice-Cara's, and my son Noah's mother-has had some...mental issues lately."
Doug palmed through a few more papers. "Right. Here's a letter from a doctor in...Arizona."
Dean nodded, feeling his chest tighten. "That's where she's staying with her cousin."
The principal nodded. "So...back to Cara. Her grades have dropped dramatically, as she has not been turning in assignments. That's troubling to me."
Okay, now Dean was getting irritated. "Well...like you said, she hasn't been here to turn in her assignments. It's not her fault."
"Right. Of course. It also says that teachers have described Cara as being shy and a bit standoffish with other students-"
"And?" Dean asked.
"Well, I am just concerned about her success academically and socially-"
"How bout you let me worry about that?" Dean suggested tightly.
"Mr. Winchester, I understand this has been a difficult time for you and your family. I want you to know that as a school, and as a community, myself and Redwine Middle School just want Cara to be successful."
"Uh-huh," Dean nodded through clenched teeth.
"...and because she has fallen so far behind in her classmates, I am concerned about her trajectory throughout the rest of her school career. You know, she may have to repeat the year. And with that, that just puts her far behind her classmates. We just want to give her all the supports she needs to really show initiative and excel through the rest of middle school, high school, and maybe college."
"Okay Doug...I'm gonna stop you right there. Look, the only reason I came here was to withdraw Cara from school. I just need the forms. I really don't need you to try and tell me what you think is best for my daughter you've never met."
"Mr. Winchester, we're here for Cara and your family-"
"Could I just have the forms?" Dean asked shortly, indicating to the principal he was done talking about this topic.
Doug mulled over the request for a few seconds before reaching into a drawer and pulling out a manilla envelope. He slid it across the table to Dean, who snatched it up. "All the forms you need should be in there."
"Great," Dean said. "And I can just mail this back to the school when everything is filled out?"
"Yes."
"Awesome. Have a great day, Doug." Dean left the office, closing the door harshly, not bothering to say anything to the judgemental secretary.
"Dick," Dean muttered as he exited the school, shoving the envelope underneath one arm.
"Well that was a complete shitshow," Dean continued to mutter to himself, getting into the Impala, on his way to the elementary school, so go through the same crap with Noah that he had just went through with Cara.
Dean dropped all of the crap he'd collected on the kitchen counter. "Here ya go." Dean slid a plastic bag towards Noah. "All the stuff from your desk."
"Did you get my stuff from my locker?" Cara asked.
Dean shook his head. "Have to go back and get it at a later time."
She shrugged. "Okay...but could we go soon? I left my favorite lip gloss in it."
He looked at her sideways. "You're wearing make-up now?"
In return, she gave him a weird look. "I've been wearing makeup for pretty much the whole school year."
"Does your mother know about this?"
"She's the one that took me to buy it," Cara informed.
"If you don't wanna hear about it for the rest of your life, I'd stop asking questions," Noah advised, cradling his head with one hand.
Silence descended upon the kitchen as Cara glanced sadly at her father. The rest of his life wasn't a long time.
"That's for the advice," Dean replied.
"I'm gonna go put this stuff away," Noah announced, grabbing the bag of all his school stuff. His footsteps were heard ascending the stairs, and walking across the upstairs hallway to his room.
"When are you gonna tell him?" Cara asked.
Turning back into the kitchen. Dean opened the fridge. It was bare, save for a severely expired carton of milk and some mysterious lunch meat.
"I'll tell him."
"When?"
"Cara."
Dean shut the fridge.
"He deserves to know."
Dean wasn't gonna argue with his daughter the way he argued with her mother. "Leave it."
"Fine," Cara huffed.
Dean continued to rummage through the cabinet, eventually finding a box of spaghetti and an unopened can of sauce. He pulled them out and went about filling a pot and lighting the stove, letting the sounds of clinking silverware and the synthetic roaring flames of the stove fill the space.
It had been a hard decision to return to their house in Batavia. But, they had all needed to regroup, and Dean couldn't encroach on Bobby's hospitality anymore. Cara and Noah had been hesitant, but ultimately relaxed once they were able to sleep in their own beds after so long. Dean had even had a short, non revealing phone call with Alice, where she basically said she was going to stay in Arizona for a while, and that she trusted him to look after the kids. In the course of the brief exchange, Alice was kept in the dark about Sam's death, Dean's deal, and Cara's stupid debt to Phenex. Her mind was fragile, and any extra weight on it could snap her clean in half.
As Dean was shaking the dry noodles into the boiling water, Sam appeared in the doorway, struggling with an obscenely tall stack of books in his arms.
"You know, we do have something called the Internet," Dean offered unhelpfully.
"Ha ha help me out." Cara jumped up from where she sat and helped set the books down.
Her excitement decreased when she saw what the books were. "Trigonometry? Sampson's Complete Companion Guide to the Periodic Table? What are these?"
"Schoolwork," Sam replied.
"But I-"
"When was the last time you even touched a book-"
"-last-"
"-that was related to school?" Sam challenged, with raised eyebrows.
Cara huffed and slid the book towards Sam, but didn't say anything.
As Dean strained the pasta and set out bowls for everyone, Cara disappeared upstairs to get her brother.
"What's Bobby got?" Dean asked.
He shrugged. "Not much. A crop failure and a cicada swarm outside of Lincoln, Nebraska. Could be demonic omens."
Dean scoffed. "Or could just be a bad crop and bug problem."
"Yeah, but it's our only lead."
"Any freaky deaths?"
"Nothing Bobby could find. Not yet anyways."
He shook his head. "It's weird man. I mean the night the gate to hell opened, all these weirdo storms were sighted over how many cities?"
"Seventeen," Sam reported glumly.
"Seventeen," Dean repeated the word to himself, quietly. "You think it'd be 'Apocalypse Now', but it's been five days and nothing. What are these demons waiting for?"
"Beats me."
"It's driving me crazy, Sam. I tell you you, if it's gonna be a war, I wish it would just start already."
"I'd be careful what you wish for," Sam advised as Cara and Noah appeared into the kitchen.
Much like his sister, Noah was chagrined at the sight of the stack of library books, but was wise not to say anything, maybe hoping to delay his schooling a little bit longer. The only thing he had missed about school was all of his friends. But after everything that had happened, he didn't know how he could go back and pretend like everything was the same.
They weren't at home for long before Bobby's feelers picked up a red-flag for demon activity. The hotbed was in Nebraska, a few hours away. In the backseat, Cara and Noah were begrudgingly trying to read from books and write in notebooks. Sam hadn't wasted any time with assigning them classwork, and at the sounds of their complaints, Dean silenced them with a look that was obviously picked up from Alice.
While Cara was angrily taking notes on protons, electrons, and the property of atoms, she didn't understand why she had to waste her time with this when she could've been reading-up on demons and things that actually had an impact on her life, like saving her father.
Noah was equally as frustrated, and breezed through a short story about the Civil War, answering questions about the passage, just angry that he didn't get why it was suddenly so important to try and get back to the semi-normal life they'd had before. It wasn't the same. Especially now that they knew what Yellow Eyes was planning.
And it wasn't the same. Not without Mom.
The Impala turned down a dusty country road, pulling up to a brown clapboard farmhouse with a wrap around porch and a teetering windmill nearby.
Bobby was climbing out of his own vehicle as the four piled out and approached the ballcap-wearing man.
"Hear those cicadas?" Sam asked, listening to the sound of hundreds of croaking insects clinging to a small collection of trees in the distance.
"That can't be a good sign?"
"Why not?" Noah asked.
"Could be a sign of demonic activity," Cara replied, information about demons much more salient than anything about chemistry.
"Hey kids, long time no see," Bobby greeted them, hugging them each with one arm. He glanced up at the boys. "So we're eating bacon cheeseburgers for breakfast, are we?"
Dean shrugged. "I ain't sweating the cholesterol."
"Yeah, he wouldn't let me have one for lunch," Noah reported, blissfully unaware that high cholesterol was the least of his father's worries.
"Uh-huh," Bobby nodded.
Dean gave a small shake of his head to Bobby, as a warning.
Sam cleared his throat and continued the conversation right along. "So, uh, Bobby. We got a biblical swarm here or what?"
"Well, let's find out, look like this swarms ground zero."
The group huddled onto the porch, creating a semi-circle around the screened-in door.
"Candygram!" Dean yelled, as he knocked on the door loudly.
They waited several moments for someone to answer the door. When there was silence, Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out his lockpick kit. He stared at the small box in his hand. "Cara. Noah. Here." He tossed it in the air at them, Noah catching it at the last second.
They alternated staring between the box and their dad.
"Pick the lock," Dean instructed simply.
It took several seconds, but the two were bent in front of the lock, tinkering with it, and quietly arguing amongst themselves when Cara tried and couldn't get it, leading to Noah snatching the tools away from her.
Crossing his arms, Sam shifted from foot to foot impatiently. "Dean, we really don't have time for this," he complained lowly.
"Shh. Let 'em," Dean shot back, watching the two eventually go from arguing to collaborating with great concentration.
It took a few more minutes, but the lock finally opened with a little click and the siblings high-fived each other and Dean gave a proud smile.
He knew they had it in them.
Sam and Dean entered first, the kids in the middle, and Bobby bringing up the rear. Everyone had their weapons lowered, sweeping and clearing the foyer, as they moved further into the house. There was the sound of a fuzzy TV set playing western music in the background, mingling with the muted cicadas.
Suddenly, once they turned a corner in the house, a rotting, unbearable stench hit the group like a smack to the face, just as they were met with a horrifying sight.
On a couch, a mother, father, and a little boy in the middle. It was obvious where the stench had come from. They had been dead for a while-mummified.
"Ugh, I'm gonna throw up," Noah turned around and clapped both hands over his mouth.
"Oh my God," Sam moaned. "Bobby, what the hell happened here?"
He shook his head. "I don't know."
"Check for sulfur."
The group fanned out over the house, looking for the tell-tale sign of yellow powder.
Near the front door, both Dean and Cara heard a rustling outside, one that was much too large to be a cicada touching down.
Whistling lowly, Dean indicated he was heading outside to see what the sound was. He held up a hand, indicating for Cara to stay with her uncle and brother.
As he appeared outside, Dean descended the steps. And before he could clear the last one to the ground, a dark-skinned man materialized and tackled Dean, both of the men landing on the ground with a thud.
Groaning, Dean gained his bearings as the man stood up, and a woman with dark-skin and a pixie cut came up behind the man, aiming a shotgun at Dean's head.
The other members of the Winchester-Mercer party were running out when they heard Dean's grunt. Bobby stopped short. "Isaac? Tamara?"
The woman stopped, taking a moment to recognize the man. "Bobby? What the hell are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same."
"Heya Bobby," Isaac greeted, much more mild mannered than the woman.
Dean raised his arm and waved it around dramatically, from where he lay. "Hello. Bleeding here."
"Honey, where's the Palo Alto?" Isaac asked, rifling through items in a drawer.
"Well, where'd you leave it?"
"I don't know dear, that's why I'm asking you?"
"Palo Alto?" Sam asked. He and the kids were sitting at the kitchen table, while Dean was in the background, on the phone.
"It's uh...holy wood. From Peru. Toxic to demons. Keeps 'em nailed down why you're exorcising them."
"And how do you spell that?" Cara asked, reaching for a nearby pen and paper.
"Uh phonetically?" Tamara said, digging through a bag. Dealing with kids had never been one of her talents.
A few seconds later, she produced a large, wooden stake, and handed it to her husband, with a smile. "You'd lose your head if it wasn't for me."
"Don't I know it, dear."
Watching Isaac and Tamara interact made Sam's heart pang. He wondered what he and Jess would've been like if she were still alive.
"How long have you guys been married?" Sam asked.
"Eight years this past summer," Tamara said, wrapping her arms around Isaac's bicep.
"The family that slays together," Isaac cheekily replied, placing a kiss on the side of her head.
"Right. I definitely get that," Sam agreed.
Head rested against Isaac's chest, Tamara appraised Cara and Noah. They were well behaved kids and didn't seem too surprised by anything that was going on. In fact, they seemed weathered and experienced for being so young. "Seems like you guys start out early in your family." The tone wasn't accusing, just curious.
Sam nodded slowly. "Life didn't happen the way we thought it would. How'd you guys get started?"
There was an uncomfortable silence, Isaac and Tamara looking at each other with indecipherable expressions.
"Uh you know what? Nevermind. It's none of my business…"
"No. It's alright," Tamara said.
Dean returned to the room, phone pressed to his ear. "Uh, yeah Jenny. Sure. I'd love to have an 'appletini' with you?" What the hell Dean mouthed, as he continued to talk to the girl. "Yep I'll for sure call you." Dean made a face as he hung up. "That was the coroner's tech," he announced.
"And?"
"Get this. The whole family cause of death? Dehydration and starvation. No signs of restraint or violence. There was no struggle. They just sat down and never got up."
"But there was a fully stocked kitchen yards away," Bobby added.
"Right. What is this, a demon attack?" Sam asked.
Bobby was already puzzled, shaking his head. "If it is, it's not like anything I've ever seen, and I've seen plenty."
"Well what now? What should we do?"
"'We're' not doing anything," Isaac cut in.
The group looked at him surprise.
"What do you mean?"
"You guys seem nice enough, but this isn't Scooby Doo. We don't play well with others."
Sam bristled indignantly. "Well I think we'd cover a lot more ground if we stuck together."
"Well no offense, but we're not teaming up with the damn fools who opened the Devil's Gate in the first place."
"No offense?" Dean asked, very much offended.
Tamara pulled her husband back by the arm. "Isaac," she admonished. "Like you've never made a mistake."
"Oh yeah. Maybe locked my keys in the car, turned my laundry pink, sure. Can't say I ever brought on the end of the world though."
Dean chuckled, his sign that he was about to lose it. "Alright. That's enough."
"Look, there are a couple hundred more demons out there now. We don't know where they are, when they'll strike. There ain't enough hunters in the world to handle something like this. You brought war down on us-and if that wasn't bad enough, you keep collateral with you the entire time." It was obvious what Isaac was referring to with the last sentence.
"I wouldn't go there if I you were you-"
"Okay, okay that is enough testosterone for now!" Tamara snapped sharply, getting between Isaac and Dean, shoving them apart forcefully.
Sam and Bobby grabbed Dean and manhandled him towards the door, while Tamara was pushing Isaac into another room.
When the adults were posing as FBI agents, Cara and Noah had to wait in the motel room. There weren't very many explanations for why there would be two kids with federal agents, other than "bring your kid to work day", especially when those kids were brought to the scene of a gruesome crime, where one woman killed another over a pair of emerald green pumps.
"Green? Who in their right mind would want green shoes?" Cara asked over the phone. Noah glanced at her sideways. They sat on adjoining corners of the table, phone sitting between them.
"Cara, someone just died," Sam chastised from his own end.
"Sorry. I'm just saying," Cara muttered into her hand. "What signs did you guys see?"
"How's the homework going?" Sam asked in response.
Cara sighed and glanced down at the chemical equations she had to balance. The pace that he was assigning homework, giving dues dates, grading their assignments, and then giving them more information was at a much quicker pace than either Cara or Noah were used to. The typical rate of school had always been go-with-the-flow for them, and now, Sam was almost...unforgiving with the rate of it.
Neither kid would admit that they were beyond caught up with the weeks that had missed, and were already started with curriculum from the next grade.
Both brothers wanted to give the kids as much as they could. Sam wanted to get the kids on track and put them ahead of the curve academically. He knew they were bright and always remembered how painful the snailish pace of public education was, set them up nice for college when they were old enough. On the other hand, Dean knew his clock was ticking. In the next year, he needed to give Cara and Noah as much as he could-teach them as much as possible so that when he was gone, they would be safe and were prepared to live without his protection.
"Uh working on it," Cara responded. She glanced over at Noah who had his own pile of work in front of him.
"Well keep at it. You guys have been doing a great job so far."
"Uncle Sam-"
"That the kids?" Their dad asked, his voice suddenly appearing.
"Yeah."
"You tell them about the case?"
"No. I was calling to check up on them. Their homework isn't done-"
"There's no signs of possession," Dean informed them, cutting over Sam. "No sulfur. No black smoke. Nada. It was like she just went crazy."
"Over a pair of ugly shoes."
"Shut up, Noah," Cara muttered to her brother, elbowing him in the ribs. In response, he swatted her arm away with a spiral notebook. "So what does that mean? All the signs we were following pointed to here."
"We're not sure yet. Gotta do a little more digging."
"Are you gonna come by and get us?"
There was silence on the other end of the line. "Sorry, you guys hang tight. We got a few more places to hit up and we'll be on our way back. What kind of food do you want tonight? I can grab some milkshakes on the way home-"
"No more junk food. They've had enough junk food Dean!"
"Their kids, not rabbits, Sam! I'm not gonna make 'em eat grass like you do."
"It's not grass, it's a salad. And if you just expanded your palate a little bit-"
"Okay guys, I gotta go. We'll be back in a few hours. Bye."
"Bye," Cara mumbled, pushing the phone away.
She sighed and glanced around the room in boredom. Noah was staring down, doing some sort of math she didn't care to know. He didn't seem concerned that they were relegated to waiting in the motel room.
"I can't believe we're stuck in here for the rest of the night."
He shrugged. "It'll give you a chance to do your work."
She stared at him like he had two heads. "You'd rather do math than be on a hunt right now?"
"I'd prefer not to do either."
"You okay?"
"I'm great." Noah got up from the table and flopped onto one of the beds, reaching for a TV remote.
"You don't seem great."
Noah rolled his eyes at her. Since when did she care about how he felt? "After...everything we've been through, I just want a break. And for me, a break is going back to normal. Going to school. Hanging out with friends...being with Mom.
"So yeah. I'd rather do that than go hunt another demon."
She nodded. "Yeah. I miss her too."
"And what about you?"
"What about me?" Cara asked.
"You've been...clingy ever since we've killed the demon."
"What do you mean?"
"You just...you know what? Nevermind."
"No not nevermind. What were you gonna say?"
"You've been like Dad's shadow. It's just different from how you usually are."
Cara knew what he meant.
He just didn't know why.
"It's just...he's the only parent we've got right now."
Noah felt ill, the way she phrased that, but knew what she meant. He sighed deeply and flipped on the TV.
With a yawn, Bobby turned to Dean. "What time is it?"
"Seven past midnight."
"You sure this is the right place?"
Dean glared at Bobby. "Yes. I'm sure. Look I don't wanna be here anymore than you do."
The older man sighed. "You could've gone back to the motel with the kids. This doesn't need to be a two man job."
"Well...I already spend the whole day canvassing this stupid town about this guys stupid mug, which led me to this stupid bar where he drinks."
Bobby raised his eyebrows at Dean and shook his head. The older man would stand by the fact this was still not a two man job.
A sudden knock on the window, right next to Dean's head caused both men to jump in surprise. On the edge of hunter mode, the shock turned to irritation as Sam slipped into the back seat.
"That's not funny!"
Sam chuckled from the back seat. "Yeah, so anyways. Our John Doe's name is Walter Rosen from Oak Park, Illinois."
That perked them up a little bit. "Oak Park. That's near Chicago."
"Motherfuckers," Dean muttered under his breath. "The night the devil's gate opened?"
"Yeah."
"So you think he's possessed?"
"Well, it's a good bet. So what? He walks up, touches someone, and they go stark raving psycho?" Sam asked, referring to the woman that had killed the other woman over the pair of less-than-flattering shoes, according to his niece.
"Those demons that got out of the gate, they're gonna do all kinds of things we haven't seen before."
"You mean the demons we let out," Sam reiterated.
Dean caught Bobby and Sam's attention, turning it to a red-haired man that skulked towards the bar. Ginger there was the one they had been looking for.
"Showtime," Dean was to pull open the door of the car, but Bobby stopped him, indicating for the brothers to watch and wait, however, Bobby's reasoning was thwarted once he saw the familiar couple of Isaac and Tamara slip in the bar behind the allegedly possessed man.
"Damn it," Bobby hissed, once the door shut behind the couple. "Go. Go!" He commanded with instance. The car doors of the Impala all slammed in tandem and the men were at the door of the bar, trying to pry it open. But it seemed there was some supernatural force that held it fast, against the strength of three grown men.
After a bit of pushing-whether it was luck or enough force-that door finally gave way, and they burst in the large room. Tamara was pinned to the bar, screaming and reaching for Isaac, bloody and still body slumped on the floor.
Holy water went flying as Sam grabbed Tamara, yanking her towards the exit. It took as his strength, as she was straining for her dead, glassy-eyed husband.
Sam and Tamara made it to the Impala as the red-haired man-who was obviously now a demon-stalked after Dean and Bobby. It was a team effort, as the monster was strong and cunning. He managed to knock Dean in the ribs and throw him against the side of the car. Bobby got a scratch along his forearm.
While the demon was occupied popping around Bobby like a punching bag, Dean opened the trunk of the Impala. Getting behind the demon, he shoved the red-haired man straight into the trunk, closing the lid tightly, the devil's trap inlaid on the trunk, effectively trapping the demon.
Breathing heavily, Bobby came and clapped a heavy hand on Dean's shoulder. "Good job, son. Now let's go and fry this bastard."
He nodded. "Agreed. Before that, I gotta check on the kids."
Bobby looked a little hesitant. He glanced in the back seat and could hear Tamara switching between Sam letting her out of the car and yelling at him for being a big, dumb nusiance. "I don't know if that's the best time for that. Besides it's the middle of the night, they're gonna be sleeping. They'll be fine."
"I'll drop you guys off at Tamara's house. I'll swing by. Check on the kids. Look, I'll be back before you can say 'Jack Robinson.""
"Why don't you just take the night off?"
Dean sighed. "It won't take long. Just wait for me. Okay?"
"Dean…"
"Bobby."
The older man gave a beaten-down huff at Dean's persistence. "Fine. Just hurry, Jack Robinson."
Noah awoke to the feeling of falling, gripping onto his pillow for dear life. Blinking in drowsy confusion, he saw a shadow figure move across the dimly lit room. "Dad?"
Dean flicked on another light. "Cara. Noah. Get up." He went over to each kid and shook them quickly.
"What's wrong?" Noah asked, bolting upright.
"Nothing's wrong," Dean assured. "Get dressed. Cara, wake up."
"What's going on?" Cara asked, suddenly as awake as her brother.
"We're working the case. Get dressed. We need to go."
"It's the middle of the night!" Noah exclaimed, looking at the clock.
"What's going on with the case?" Cara had eagerly hopped out of bed and was pulling on a sweater over her night shirt. She disappeared into the bathroom for a few seconds and came back later with a pair of jeans on.
"Breakthrough. Demons," Dean informed quickly. "Noah, come on."
He sat in a confused huddle in the middle of the bed, staring at his father. "Why-"
"Noah, let's go," Cara whined impatiently from the door. She crossed her arms impatiently and huffed.
In apprehension, Noah pulled on a pair of jeans and shoved a hoodie over his head. He didn't have any auditory visions going on, so everything was...alright, he supposed.
As alright as everything could be, considering, Noah thought sullenly as he followed his father and Cara down the stairs, and to the parking lot, where the black of the Impala was almost invisible against the dark of the sky.
"I say we're going back out there. Now!" Tamara demanded for the umpteenth time. She was getting real irritated with these two men guarding the door to her own home.
"Just hold on a second," Sam said, gently cushioning her as she tried to batter her way through the door.
"I left my husband bloody on the floor!"
"Okay, I understand that. But we can't go back," Sam insisted.
"You don't understand shit!" Tamara shot back as she darted forward.
Steeling, Sam gave her another gentle-hard shove back. "I watched my girlfriend burn cause of a demon. I know shit."
Tamara wilted at the comment. "I need him back. I need to go to the bar," she said, a little more passively.
Before Sam could speak, there was a knock at the front door. Tamara and all other members were up, cautious. Bobby glanced back at the demon they had snug for Thanksgiving dinner under a trap.
Sama and Tamara approached the front door, each wielding a weapon.
Another knock.
Tamara looked through the peephole and dropped her weapon. "It's your idiot brother."
Sam relaxed and Tamara stalked back to the kitchen.
The door was pulled open to reveal his idiot brother.
But Sam didn't expect to see his niece and nephew standing there as well.
"Dean? What-"
"Where's the demon?" Dean asked.
"In the backroom. Why are-"
"Hey Sam? Shh". Dean muttered as he and the kids reluctantly moved past him into the home. The younger brother stayed stunned, still standing at the door.
Upon seeing the three, Tamara frowned. "The hell are they doing here?"
"Where's the demon?" Dean repeated, glancing to Tamara.
The woman stared at him, incredulous. This day couldn't be real. Her husband was dead, and now this hunter shows up at her doorstep with his two yawning kids.
"Dean are you insane?" Sam demanded. "What are you doing bringing them here?"
"They need to learn how to exorcise a demon."
"That's a suicide mission! They should be in bed right now!" Sam yelled, losing his temper.
"I'll be with them the entire time," Dean assured, with a blase wave of the hand.
"We don't even know how many of them there might be!"
"Yeah we do. There's seven. Do you have any idea who we're up against?" Bobby asked, emerging from a back room, book in hand.
"The seven deadly sins, live and in the flesh!" Once in front of Dean, Bobby slapped his head. "You told me you were just checking on them, you stipid idjit! Well? You got anything to say for yourself?"
There was silence as Dean rubbed his head. "What's in the box?" He asked. "Brad Pitt? 'Se7en'? No one?"
In disgust Bobby shoved a book into Dean's chest.
"What's this?"
"Binsfeld's Classification of Demons. In 1589, Binsfeld ID'd the seven sins. Not just as human vices, but as actual devils."
Per usual, Cara was leaning over her dad's arm as he flipped through the pages. "That family we found. That was Sloth?" Cara asked, looking up from the book.
Bobby nodded.
"And the shopper?"
"That's Envy's doing, that's our customer in the next room."
"I don't give a rat's ass if they're the Three Stooges or the Four Tops!" Tamara exclaimed. "I'm gonna slaughter every last one of them!"
"We already tried it your way. You burst in there half-cocked and look what happened! These demons haven't been topside in half a millenium. We're talking medieval, Dark Ages. We've never faced anything close to this. So we're gonna take a breath. And figure out what your next move is!"
Breathing heavily, Bobby simmered down. "I am sorry for your loss."
Shaking her head in disbelief, Tamara turned on her heel and fled from the room.
With only the family remaining, Bobby turned to Dean. He was furious with him. Dean had always been gung-ho and a tad suicidal when it came to his own safety. That had been exemplified with the deal he had more for his brother. But there was one thing Bobby couldn't wrap his head around.
Dean had always been protective of those kids. So there was no rational, logical explanation as to help Bobby understand why Dean thought it would be a great idea to wake them up in the middle of the night and drag them into a dangerous situation, to which things had just escalated to an alarming degree.
"Do you." Bobby took a step towards Dean. "Have any." Another step. "Idea." Another. "What you've done?"
"I didn't know."
"That's because you don't think, Dean," Bobby growled.
"Bobby…"
"Look it's one thing to throw yourself into the flames, willingly, but to put them at risk?" Bobby pointed at Cara and Noah, silently standing off to the side, trying to make themselves invisible.
"Don't accuse me of putting them at risk. Everything I do for them is always in their best interest!"
"And what? Being served up on a silver platter as an appetizer to some ancient demons is in their best interest?"
"They need to learn!" Dean yelled back.
Bobby nodded his head a few times, as if really taking in and considering what Dean was saying. He seemed completely calm and collected in that moment, as if he was thinking about the weather or what he was gonna eat for dinner.
Raising his arm, Bobby slung it and coldcocked Dean right across the face.
Dean went spinning to the floor, as Cara and Noah both yelled for their dad, jumping to his aid.
Sam stood in the middle of them, trying to figure out if he was ready to throw another punch or if Dean was going to come up swinging.
Rising, Dean wiped a spot of blood from the corner of his mouth. "My kids. My rules. My decisions," he said quietly, with a certain finality, indicating he was done with this conversation.
Bobby sniffled. "You're breaking my heart, kid. Just like you're gonna break theirs." His heavy footsteps faded.
Wiping his mouth, Dean caught his little brother staring, judgey. "Save the lecture, Professor Sam."
"You okay?" Sam asked.
Dean nodded. "Yeah. Damn for an old man he's got a mean right hook."
"What's going on? And that? What was that?" Noah asked, looking at his father in confusion and concern. He had never seen Bobby lose his temper like that.
"Noah," Cara tried to draw his attention away from the situation.
"Bobby and I aren't seeing eye to eye right now," Dean supplied.
"About us," Noah said, pointing to himself and his sister.
"About a lot of things," Dean responded.
"What's he talking about, 'breaking our hearts'? What does that mean?"
"Hey Noah?" Cara tried to get his attention.
Dean gave a deep sigh and threw Sam a look for help.
"Hey bud, why don't we talk about this later? Okay?" Sam suggested.
"Okay…" Noah said slowly. He glanced around at his dad, who was making a point to nod his head aggressively, that Sam's suggestion was a good idea. To the side, Cara was tugging on his arm to pull him away from the group.
Looking at the group, it was obvious they were all trying to change the subject, move along it along. He didn't know what they all were hiding from him, but Noah could tell whatever it was, Cara was in on it too.
BREAK
"So you know who I am, huh?" The demon, Envy, asked, from where he was tied to the chair.
"We do. We're not impressed," Bobby informed.
"Why are you here? What are you after?" Sam asked, taking a step forward.
The demon was silent.
"He asked you a question. What do you want?"
The demon chuckled, but kept his mouth shut.
Irritated, Dean picked up a flask of holy water that was sitting on the nearby table. He removed the cap and rained fire down onto the demon.
Cara flinched as the demon's skin began to peel and flay, his screams of agony piercing her ears. Noah reacted similarly, turning his head away from the sight. Even after the argument between Bobby and Dean, the older man didn't comment, just gave a depressed glare when Cara and Noah entered the room with their father. They were gonna be a part of this exorcism whether any of them liked it or not.
"We already have what we want," Envy panted through the pain.
"What's that?"
"We're out. We're free. Thanks to you, my kind is everywhere. I am legion, for we are many." The demon's chuckle sent a chill down everyone's spine. "So me, I'm just celebrating. Having a little fun."
"Fun?" Sam's lip curled in disgust.
"Yeah. Fun. See, some people crochet. Others gold. Me? I like to see people's insides on their outside."
"I'm gonna put you down like a dog," Tamara growled from the corner where she stood. She was barely containing herself at this point.
"Please. You really think you're better than me. Which one of you can cast the first stone, huh? What about you, Dean? You're practically a walking billboard of gluttony and lust.
"And Tamara. All that wrath. Oh boy. It's the reason you and Isaac became hunters in the first place, isn't it? It's so much easier to drink in the rage than face what really happened all those years ago."
Losing her composure, Tamara darted forward and slapped the demon clean across the face, yelling.
"My point exactly!" Envy exclaimed jovially. "And you call us sins. We're not sins, man. We are natural human instinct. You can repress and deny us all you want, but the truth is, you're just a bunch of animals. Horny, greedy, hungry, violent animals. And you know what? You'll be slaughtered like animals too." A wide smile grew across his face. "The others. They're coming for me. And when they get here, it's gonna be a massacre."
Dean shrugged. "Maybe. But they're not gonna find you. Cause you'll be in hell. Cara, Noah, send this clown packing." Dean turned to his kids, who looked back at him, unsure of what to do. "Exorcise him."
"Oh adorable, you're gonna let the little bunnies send me back. Now if stupidity was a sin, Dean, that'd be all you."
"Shut up," Dean said. He turned back to Cara and Noah. "Exorcise the demon. Send him downstairs."
"You want us to?" Noah asked, turning a shade lighter.
"Go head, Sparky, give it your best shot," Envy taunted.
Now Noah looked green.
Coming forward, Cara grabbed the book that was sitting on the table.
"What are you doing?" Dean asked. "You're telling me you don't have the exorcism memorized? Not even Maniglia's Prayer?"
"N-no. Not the whole thing."
Dean sighed. "What about you?"
Noah shook his head.
"When this is over you two are memorizing this thing front to back. You're gonna be able to recite it backwards standing on your head."
"We do not have time for this." Tamara snatched the book back from Cara and began to rattle off the exorcism.
Within a few minutes the room rumbled and shook, smoke pouring out of the man. With one final shout, the man finally went still.
Once she was done, Tamara slammed the book down on the table, in front of Dean.
Bobby pulled back one of the curtains. "I don't think we're gonna have to worry about hunting them. I'm thinking that may this joker's right. They're gonna be hunting us. And they're not gonna quit easy."
"You guys, why don't you take Tamara and the kids and head for the hills? I'll stay back, slow them down, buy you some time."
Noah's eyes widened at the suggestion.
"You're insane, Dean. Just forget about it, okay?" Noah was glad that his uncle thought the same thing.
"Sam's right," Bobby said.
Dean sighed. "Look, Bobby, you were right. I shouldn't have brought them here. But there's six of them, guys. We're outmanned and outgunned. We'll be dead by dawn." Dean glanced at Cara and Noah. It had been a mistake to bring them there.
Bobby raised his eyebrows, to tell Dean, no shit, but didn't say that out loud.
A sudden pounding at the door jarred everyone standing in the kitchen. "Tamara! I got away, but I'm hurt! Baby, let me in. I need help!" Tamara reacted instinctively. She was at the door in a second, Bobby slamming his hand over the door when she went to turn the knob.
"It's not him. It's one of those demons. It's possessing the corpse," Bobby said lowly, giving her an intense stare. She looked back at him, a vulnerable look in her eyes, her entire body shaking from grief, anger, and adrenaline.
"It's too late to run for the hills: they're here," Sam breathed out, locking eyes with Dean.
Nodding in understanding Dean felt the stupidity and guilt tumble down on him like Babylon falling. Each hand gripped one of the kid's wrists, as he dragged them into the room where Envy had been locked down. The demon's body had been put off to the side, and Dean walked until the three of them stood in the center of the devil's trap.
Spinning around so he was facing them, Dean grabbed them by the shoulders and anchored them in the center of the trap. "Stay here." At the table, Dean shoved salt and holy water into their arms. "Stay in the middle."
"Dad-"
"Cara, this is not a negotiation. Just stay here and do not come out under any circumstances. Tell me you understand, Cara."
She nodded. "I understand."
"Noah?"
He nodded slowly, still a strange coloring. "I understand."
"Okay. Don't come out no matter what you hear." Dean quickly placed a kiss on each of their foreheads and shut the door, loudly behind them. There was the sound of something heavy dragging about the floor, on the other side of the door. The sound stopped right in front of the door, accompanied by a hollow thud, trapping them in the windowless room.
The two turned to look at each other, silent, and terrified.
Cara's voice was a whisper. "Noah."
He turned to her with wide eyes, putting a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet.
"I know devil's traps keep demons in, but do they keep them out?"
Noah didn't say anything, but his expression painted a pretty vivid picture that he agreed with her.
Lunging out of the trap for a moment, Cara grabbed the book Tamara had read the exorcism from. "We got this at least."
Noah scoffed. "You think they're gonna stay still while you try to pronounce all of that?"
"Well they'll come in and we'll hop out of the circle."
"You're gonna move faster than a demon?"
"I'm just trying to put a positive spin on things," Cara retorted.
Noah's nose wrinkled. "Why? When are you ever positive?"
"What?" She asked defensively. "I can't try something new?" Her voice was unsure and shaky. She was trying something, like she suggested, but it didn't work.
The brother shrugged and decided to study the words on the page.
There were several moments of eerie silence, Cara holding the book, alternating between staring at the door and the page, and Noah pondering the words. A variety of shouts, thuds, and uneasy gunshots echoed from the other room. Cara wanted to go help them, but Noah always was there to pull her back.
Another creepy and lengthy of silence followed. "What's going on with Dad and Uncle Bobby?" Noah felt compelled to ask.
"Hmm. I don't know," Cara responded, from her corner of the trap.
"Bobby said Dad was gonna break our hearts. What does that mean?"
Cara gave a semi-convincing reaction-almost too reactive to her normal stony face. "I have no idea," she responded.
From his other corner, Noah huffed and recrossed his legs, reacting to Cara's very apparent lie. "Well, I know there's something going on. We really gonna lie to each other now?"
Cara's normally stoic face arranged through a plethora of emotions in a few seconds.
Noah knew she knew something.
"I can't tell you."
Offended, Noah gave a sardonic laugh. "Tell me what?"
Cara glanced around the room-and the small space-they had been sitting in for hours. "If I tell you, you can't tell them it was me."
"Tell me what? And tell who?"
"Are you okay? You don't look too good." Cara glanced at Noah. He was not looking well. He was a strange color between green and pale white.
"I'm fine. Who are you talking about?"
There had been some aberrant screaming, but now everything was silent. Both siblings hoped the rest of the killer sins were dead. But also, Cara wished she could play goalie to a secret she was unfortunate enough to guard. "I'm just messed up after everything," Cara admitted.
"Messed up what?"
There was a pause, as she thought. "There's a lot of things Mom and Dad have done that we aren't a part of. You know?"
"Yeah Mom and Dad have done things. What are you talking about?" Noah asked.
Cara shrugged. "You need to ask."
"Ask who?" Noah demanded.
On her own end of the trap, she was already turning away, on the edge of tears.
"Okay wait. Sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry," Noah backtracked, not wanting to see anyone cry, especially Cara. Noah reached a comforting hand across and patted her on the shoulder.
As that happened, the apparent piece of furniture, and door, had been ripped apart.
A middle aged man with dark hair stepped into the room. "Hi babies," he laughed.
"Mali spiritus in virtute Christi derelinquam...hinco?" Cara felt herself blanking and shutting down on the rest of the words of Maniglia's Prayer. It was so infuriating. There had been so many times that she had read the entire thing over and over. And now? She couldn't think of the words.
"That gave me a little tickle. Thanks for that." The demon looked really and weirdly happy about that.
"There's nothing for you here," Cara said, a terrible vibration in her voice.
The demon gave an evil smirk. "You have something for me. Just not what you thought it would be." The demon took an uncomfortably close step towards Cara, edging the trap.
A heat flashed through Noah. Maybe he knew and didn't know what the demon was and frankly? He didn't care if he knew who the demon was, it was a confident bastard.
Pride.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus."
Pride gave a little shiver. "Thanks for the little hair drier action. Unfortunately, I'm here to-"
"-_Congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo draco maledicte. Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio, infernalis adversarii, omnis legio,omnis."
Pride quaked and gave slight swearing.
"No?" Noah asked. "Fine"
There was silence, followed by incongruent swearing from the demon.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio nfernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta draco maledicte et omnis legio diabolica adjuramus te. Cessa decipere humanas creaturas, eisque aeternae Perditionis venenum propinare. Vade, Satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae, hostis humanae salutis. Humiliare sub potenti manu dei, contremisce et effuge, invocato a nobis sancto et terribili nomine, quem inferi tremunt…"
Cara recognized the exorcism. It was the one Tamara used, from the book she been holding.
From her side of the trap, Cara watched as Noah easily and quickly recited the demon-banishing hymn that was in her hand. He glanced down a few times-for reference-but other than that, it was flawless.
When the final word expelled from Noah, Pride flailed around, heating, and groaning. A while later, the corpse flung to the ground, as the black smoke exhaled.
Neither Cara or Noah were shaken by the sight of that.
"How'd you do that?" Cara demanded, turning to her brother.
Frowning, Noah turned back. "Do what?"
"You exorcised a demon! How?"
Noah was confused. "From an exorcism?"
"Where did you learn that?" Cara demanded.
"The book you're holding?" Noah asked, like it was obvious.
"How?" Cara asked.
"Uhh...I read the words."
A jealous flash crossed her mind. She had read the same words too. "Did you remember them?"
Noah shrugged. "Yeah? Why wouldn't I?"
Cara shrugged, knowing they had just seen the words for the first time. "Just curious. So when Dad asked if we knew Maniglia's Prayer?"
He gave another noncommittal shrug. "I don't remember it. Not sure."
"How'd you exorcise the demon?" Cara asked.
Noah seemed irritated. "I read the exorcism," he replied.
A strike of jealousy struck through Cara. "Have you ever read Maniglia's Prayer all the way through?"
Noah shrugged. "I don't think so."
Like she was curious, Cara grabbed the book Tamara and Noah had recited from. She flipped to a page. "I found the page here. You wanna say you're an expert in this?"
Noah glanced at the open page. "No. Just the part I read.."
Cara took a deep breath, and nodded. "You need to tell Dad, Uncle Sam, and Uncle Bobby about that," she replied.
"Why?" Noah couldn't seem to comprehend that situation, for his own sake.
"You should talk to them," Cara suggested, a building in her chest.
"Right now?" Noah asked.
"No, idiot," Cara responded, in the swell of silence, as she was a part of a secret that would 'break his heart', as that was the phrase.
It had been twelve hours since Tamara's.
The demon's had apparently been slaughtered by Sam, Dean, Bobby, and Tamara, with a lone one being exorcised by the kids-neither kid had claimed credit for it, as would any adult, except Dean.
"I'm so tired of demons," Noah moaned from his corner of the trap.
He was glad Cara had agreed to keep and stay to her own corner, but also glad she gave a scathing review to demons, protecting himself.
Each of them had their own motel beds. Dad and Sam had been renting adjoining rooms with sliding doors between them.
But since them, everyone had been getting pretty ansty.
Dean wanted to kill something.
Sam wanted to clear the air.
Cara wanted the peace.
Noah wanted everyone on the same page.
But really, maybe that would never happen.
She was forgotten.
Always.
A female, dark, bilingual, from an immigrant family
She was disposable.
Silvia was always a castaway her entire life. Even when she found Sam and Noah.
She was forgettable.
Like trash.
The girl had left when everyone had told her to leave. That was nothing new. She was used to being left behind.
The young girl had found others like her, only to be left on a tree-lined road by them.
"Come here," a voice whispered, from the other side of the road.
Silvia looked around. She heard no dissent. She crossed and reached the other side of the road.
"What?"
"Join me," the voice reiterated.
"Why?" Silvia's voice was small.
"Because I know you and I love you."
Silvia looked around from the side of the road she had crossed to. It was green and lush.
"What do you know about me?" She found herself asking.
"You desperately want to belong. That is your main desire."
Silvia looked around the forest she stood in. "I want to go home to my family."
"It may not be possible," a voice said. "But we need you."
The two were frozen in their spots, as there was movement right outside the door. There was a terrible bang against the wall.
"Join me," a desperate voice suggested.
"I want my family. I want to go home to them." Silvia repeated.
On the side of the road, where she stood, a silver ribbon flitted across her vision.
She shook her head and looked around.
There was an instance where Silvia inhaled the incense of pine trees, only to hear a voice in the eae.