To say this was unwelcome for Mildred would be a severe understatement.
One. The interest, as it seemed to be for others, did not seem to be fully there for her.
Two. There was absolutely no interest in Brady.
Three. This was being forced upon her.
And four.
HE WAS A DEMON.
At least he was concerned with just keeping her body up against the wall. Mildred tilted her head, angling closer, which led to a tongue down her throat. She went with it, forgoing the previous notion of lips and bit down hard on his tongue, grinding her teeth over it.
Brady's laughter echoed through her mouth, hot air huffing in past her teeth, his own teeth clacking into her own as his attention to her mouth became more enthusiastic. There was a hot wetness that hadn't been there before. Slipping and spilling from his mouth, running down her own. It didn't seem to bother him at all. In fact, her attack apparently only served to turn him on more.
Unsettling terror swooped through her.
She tried to pull her head away, hoping to head butt him, take him by surprise with that attack instead. Greedily, his hands grasped onto either side of her face, short nails cutting into her skin. He shifted his mouth down on hers, tongue rolling over the warmth spilt down her chin, sucking and dragging his own teeth roughly onto her bottom lip.
Shoving her hand up between, Mildred grasped at her neck, finding what she was looking for. She yanked the necklace off. And then shoved it up, thrusting it up into Brady's windpipe. Hissing, he jerked his head away, the iron scorching his skin.
Mildred pushed. His feet stumbled back and she stepped forward. Quick, to take advantage while she could, her other hand shot up. Fumbling. Attempting to latch the necklace around his neck.
His hands latched around her wrists, fighting off her attempt, a crazed grin cracking across his face.
"No pain. No gain."
And released his hold, fingers wrapping around the necklace—skin sizzling—and ripped it out from her hands. Shoving it into his jacket pocket, he held out the hand, admiringly. And when he reached up to feel the blistering under his chin and neck, Mildred spotted and made a dash for her dropped crowbar.
"Interesting choice. The windpipe."
She spun, crowbar in both her hands, the tightness of her hold burning her palms. Positioning herself firmly between him and Jessica on the bed. Brady's black eyes trailed the length of the iron crowbar. Lingering to a rest on her bandaged hands.
"Fair's fair there."
And waggled his fingers from his own burnt hand at her.
"Oh! Look at your face!" Brady laughed delightedly. "This is going to be so much fun."
"For me," Mildred asserted. Anger lit her nerves up. And she snarled, swinging for his head.
Missed. But he did duck and move away from Jess. It was not mere tingling in her hands, but as though the fire had returned. Her palms feeling flame hot under the crowbar. There were exorcisms. She knew this. But she didn't have any of them memorized. All Mildred had running through her head was 'demon begone' which was going to do her a shitload of good.
Bits and pieces stuck in her head. Would that be enough to do something to the demon? Perhaps the demon vacating Brady, buying a possible fake out?
Brady was definitely not on the top of her list for favorite people, but the guy certainly didn't deserve this.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immudus spiritus," she intoned forcefully. Brady's body stiffened. All right. Let's see how far she could remember. Exorcise every impure spirit. Every satanic power, every… Curse? "Omnis satanica potes—"
"Why'd you close the—"
Mildred's eyes flickered off of Brady, any thought to attempting to remember an exorcism out the window as Dean stopped and took in the room. Off foot, stunned, he blinked owlishly. Jessica's bedsheet down and hospital gown up, Mildred posed with the crowbar with cuts and blood on her face, and the new person standing in the room.
"Shit," he summed up eloquently.
She took a step forward, pulling the crowbar up, but froze. Not from choice. Burned palm directed up at her, Brady held her in place with the invisible force used from before. Mildred struggled against it.
Sam's long strides quickly brought him all the way in after Dean, who's hand was already reaching back for his gun. Baffled at the scene before him, Sam stared.
"W—Brady?"
"You know this guy?"
"Demon."
Dean glowered at his raised up gun. Then back up to the new guy in the room. "Shit!"
Brady turned, smile wide and not so white anymore, batting his black eyes over at them. "Sam. How good of you to join us. Come in, come in. Oh, we won't be needing that. Really? A gun in a hospital? Tsk, tsk."
Burned palm still facing Mildred, Brady lifted up his other hand to give it a flick. Dean's gun clattered across the floor. Another flick sent any enraged step forward off to the side, the invisible force picking Dean up and across the room, slamming him into the wall opposite of Jessica's bed. Another tiny flick shut the door again.
Flabbergasted, Sam still stood there, staring.
"Brady?"
"Demon," Mildred corrected again, snarling.
"What?" He asked blankly, uncomprehending.
Shock was a powerful thing.
Mildred strained her muscles, trying to find purchase against the invisible hold on her, rather than stuck with a crowbar up with no ability to do anything. Every satanic spirit, every… It couldn't be curse next! Why couldn't she remember more? Just a little would do.
"Now, your face. Oh, Sam." Brady shook his head in disappointment. "This is just sad. So…normal. I don't get the fuss. But her, your sister over here? Mmm! Went straight for a weapon even before I showed my black beauties. Well, I say I showed, but… That, was all her. I left them. For her. Oh! She has so much going for her you have no idea."
"What? Brady what…" Panic blooming in his eyes with the confusion, Sam looked around the room frantically. To Mildred frozen in attack pose, to Dean snarling obscenities under his breath at Brady as he struggled to get off the wall, to Jessica with her stomach injury full on display. And back to black eyed Brady, who had blood trailing out of his mouth.
"Quicker. You're the one who went to college. Move past Brady already. I mean," he paused. Head tilting at Sam's stark incomprehension or willingness to swallow things, the demon huffed. "Brady hasn't been Brady in, oh, years."
Years?
Not days?
Years?
Sam stuttered. "W-what?"
"Not since, oh, middle of our sophomore year?"
"Stop talking and move, Sam," Dean snapped from the wall.
Brady turned his head. "And do what? Shoot me? Oh, that'd kill Brady for sure. But I'd be good, don't worry. Exorcise me? I mean, I know none of you have significant history with demons. Well, eh. I know none of you have knowledge of any of us. Your sister got impressive under pressure, but well, I really doubt she has any full exorcism memorized. And she'd be the one I'd lean toward actually knowing it out of all you Winchesters."
"Ergo draco maledicte," she gnashed out at the demon. Knew it was part of the exorcism, but feared—was likely—out of order of how it ought to go. And that it was not enough to manage anything. But it was something. Enough to make the demon freeze up again at the Latin. "Cessa decipere humanas creaturas."
There was a lengthy pause and Brady turned his attention back to her. Looking proud. "Skipped a line between them. And there's a bit more to it, but—" Whistled. "—Impressive."
Mildred glared at him.
Not impressive enough.
"After break? All the drugs and dropping out of pre-med and hook ups… That was—"
"That's right. New and improved Brady." He turned, taking a slight bow at Sam, leaving his hand up for the invisible force working against Mildred and Dean. "Brady, here, he was a good kid. Straight arrow. First year dorm roommate, blooming friendship of close quarters, tight knit even after dorm life together ended. The guy you clung to in lieu of past roommates. Best friend. Perfect point of access. Tried to get you to join Brady in some things, but no. All that time trying to get me on the right track."
He laughed, dry and humorless. Mildred fought as she watched the dumbfounded horror on Sam's face grow.
"So, since you were so stuck on normal, I gave you normal." Brady shrugged. Two fingers going up in miniature measurement. "Little bit my fault. And you ate it up. Plucked Jessica up from the silver platter I swept out before you. And set her right on up for a flambé!"
"You son of a bitch."
Breathing picking up, Sam's eyes were thunderous, whole arms shaking, knuckles white.
"You son of a bitch!"
Arm waving, Brady set Sam's raging tall frame coming at him to the wall behind Sam.
"There's that anger!"
"I'm going to kill you!"
Brady cupped his ear. "What was that? I'm not sure the whole hospital heard you, Sam. Good thing I closed that door to muffle things for us. But. There is an idea. I could repeat the performance for you, but that's just dull. It's so boring with you. We should use Red. She's much closer."
"You don't get to call her Red!"
Surprise colored Brady's face. "A day back together and you're already in unison with big brother? Oh, that's promising. Besides." Brady paused to grin at Sam, then Dean at his wall, waggling his eyebrows. "Your sister really lives up to that name. Excellent kisser. Very…vigorous. Aren't you, Red?"
"You sick son of a bitch I will murder you," Dean pronounced in one entire breath. "Cut you up into tiny pieces and burn you to ash and take a piss. Shove salt and an iron rod down your mouth and choke you for sticking your demonic tongue into my sister's mouth."
"And exactly how will you preform that little trick stuck to that wall? I do like the idea of doing that again. But," Brady dragged out. "Seeing how big brother is so against that. Perhaps something else. Mmm… Yeah. And, nah."
Spinning about, Brady struck his arm out and squeezed Mildred's neck with a single hand. She gasped, struggling, her brothers' shouts muffled noise in the background as she tried to breath. Tried to move.
Hot and tight, his fingers curled, forcing her chin up as he constricted her breathing ability.
"Asphyxiation can be quite stimulating," he rumbled into her ear. "Loved the choice of windpipe."
Hand still wrapped around her neck, he dragged it downwards, smashing his mouth back up against hers. Tugged his hand upwards, then down again on her neck. She was able to get a modicum of air in the movement. But barely much of anything.
She tried to move. He picked up speed; enthusiastically attacked her mouth, tongue bleeding anew, teeth gnawing on her lips, and sucked what little air remained right out of her mouth. She pushed harder, her hands slowly forcing their way down with the crowbar. Painfully slow. His hand moved faster and faster, up and down her neck, grip tight as ever.
Growing hotter. Burning hot.
He finally released her, inclining back to eye ball her over as she gulped for air, throat scorching.
"Owed you for that," he quipped. Tapped his own windpipe. Then flashed a white grin. Amused. "I have an excuse to make this a recurrence. All the love bites I can leave on you again and again. New places, ne—"
THWACK.
Crowbar meet head. At last. Not enough to damage, unfortunately. But it was iron. Sizzling the top of his head as she pressed further and further down on it. Shoved down and down. Gasping for breath, but not letting up for a second.
Brady flicked a hand upwards, but it barely moved her. She kept on, pushing downwards, fighting for her breath back.
Mildred attempted again.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immudus spiritus. Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio." Sounded like curse. Throat raw, her burst of Latin only lasted so long before she had to cough, attempt to clear her throat again. Every incursion. Which meant levels of… Maybe, well, it popped in her head first. She pressed on, trying not second guess herself and what she could think of and recall. "Infernalis adversarii, omnis leg—"
Air whooshed out and Mildred hacked, nearly falling over, one hand leaving the crowbar to grab the hospital bed railing. Nearly dropped the crowbar, but she stubbornly clung on. Shaking out a fist, Brady snaked up and around the crowbar, standing upright again. Black spots filling up her vision from the punch to her gut, she waved the crowbar out in front of her, trying to make contact with him again.
His hysterical laughter seemed to fill the entire room.
"Running roused. I forgot! I forgot!" For a pronouncement of failure, he seemed unusually delighted. "Ha! There's a bit of a miscalculation. You. Oh, you! Making me going for pleasure before business."
"I'll show you pleasure you black eyed son of a bitch."
There was Dean's voice streaming off threats in the background.
"Didn't take you for that sort, Dean. First the promise of a rod down my throat and now skipping any attractive imagery in pleasuring me." Brady glanced up to the clock on the wall. "Well. I had a few minutes for pleasure before business, but I don't know about squeezing your offer in. I mean, emergency services are a little bit closer here. Won't be time for pleasure after. Getting Red to completely stay put now, may be an issue. But I can work with that."
The invisible force became stronger on Mildred, leaving her half hunched beside the hospital bed, crowbar jutted somewhere out around Brady's waist level. She strained. And her arm moved. Inch by sluggish inch. But it moved.
The demon merely step sided, circling the bed, only partially paying attention to her and practically ignoring everything being spat out of Dean and Sam's mouths.
"Be so terribly easy for doctors to miss internal issues," he mused to himself. Mildred gradually pulled herself upright. Brady's focus had gone back to Jessica laying on the hospital bed. "Stomach area? There's already that line there. But, hm. How closely did they look at that area? Perhaps elsewhere, somewhere overlooked. Lungs? Brain damage? Oh, that could be interesting even if healed. But no. All those are out the window now. Can't allow to give someone the time after all."
"Brady," Sam pleaded.
His attempts to get any of his long limbs off his section of wall were going as successfully as Dean. At least Sam was managing to twitch a pinky finger like mad. But no real successful movement. Mildred slid her foot forward, eyes on the demon. Whether it was the difficulty of holding all of them or her having slightly more experience, she was at least capable of some movement. And she was going to use it. Just as Sam was going to speak to his friend. Somewhere underneath the demon.
"Brady, if you're still in there, please."
"And it is becoming drastically close to midnight. Irony calls to me. The heart? Oh, that would do. And poetic in more ways than one. Kill the heart of your love, kill the steady beat of your normal?" The demon flashed a bloodied grin over in Sam's direction. "Don't you think? And on the anniversary of the death of normal for you all those years ago."
Pained, Dean's litany of spitting at the demon grinded to a halt. "Mom? Our mom? You…"
"Oh, that?" Brady gave a thoughtful look, then clicked his tongue.
While he stood still, Mildred kept her sluggish sliding pace, working around to the side of the bed he'd moved to. Crowbar still in her one hand. A hand that was burning, rubbed raw, tingling, bandages messed up, and far from okay. Forget the half remembered exorcism. She was going to hurt this mother fucker.
"I'd enjoy taking credit for that, but no. This business here? I get to have all the fun! An unexpected drawing out of the experience, but I am not complaining!"
"Business?" Dean's face twisted with his voice. Repeating detestably. "Business?"
"Uh, yeah. Duh. I plan on going places. It's why I put up with Sam and normal for so long. Well, relatively normal. Had to throw some shit every now and again, ya feel me?"
"No." Dean's eyes narrowed. "No, I don't. Where the hell does a demon plan on going? Paradise City?"
"I'm enjoying this, but not enough to monologue." Turning, Brady's hand came up as Mildred brought the crowbar down with both hands, catching her by the underside of her forearm. Physically restraining her from moving along with the invisible force working against her. "All the way around? You keep investing me more, I must…say…"
Trailing off, Brady studied the length of the crowbar held in her grip. Arm muscles quivering, Mildred pulled and pushed, attempting to shake his grip and whack him over the head. His fingers gripped tighter. The pressure stinging up and down from her burns under the bandages his grip was wrapped around. He'd made a good point earlier. No pain, no gain. She strengthened her efforts. And he absently readjusted his hand to reduce any leverage.
Absently!
"Oh. That's elegant. Certainly will get the desired result. No way back to normal after something like that."
Brady's chin raised up, black eyes gazing over Mildred's shoulder. Sam. He was on the section of wall behind her. Snarling, Mildred twisted her wrists, nearly getting the crowbar to touch him. But not quite.
"Hey, Sam. Come over here, will you?" Brady crooked a finger.
Like a stiff cardboard cutout, Sam moved. Feet dragging at the floor, unable to move or stumble or catch a step, arms out at his sides. Emotions raging war on his face, he looked down at Brady. Any pleading or hope was covered by anger.
"I will kill you."
Brady sighed. "Sam, we've gone over that. You can't kill me. Brady, sure, but not me. But, good for you, because killing is the objective."
"I won't let you kill Jess," Sam snarled, spittle flying onto both Brady and Mildred.
Stepping back from beside the bed, the demon released his hand holding Mildred's arm, and motioned with a finger again. Gaining momentum, Mildred turned to follow Brady's form, her arms pulling the crowbar back again. And jerked to a halt from swinging down as Sam's stiff form moved in the way. Feet dragging between her and Brady. His larger and taller body being a decidedly not positive at this exact moment.
Eyes wide, face taunt, Sam strained, neck pulling in an attempt to move the rest of his body.
"Of course I won't," Brady simpered. He took another step back, circling around, black eyes staying on Sam as he moved. Nose flaring, Sam threw his head in the other direction, teeth gritted down.
"What are you up to?" Dean growled suspiciously.
Mildred began turning the other way, head rotated about to keep the demon in sight as he circled the hospital bed. Brady stopped at the end of the bed, arms stretching out as he set a hand on either side, placing his weight down. Why'd he stop there?
Two of his fingers lifted up off the footboard, motioning like a crooked pair of scissors.
Sam's arms snapped up from his sides. Helplessly, Mildred watched as her brother's face went wide and white in terror. Her hands burned, shaking furiously as she tried to hold onto the crowbar. It left her hold. Raised up high out of her reach. Firmly wrapped in Sam's larger hands. His body shifted in the direction of the hospital bed.
"No! No! Jess! Jess! Wake up! Red!"
"You goddamned sick bitch! I will skin you alive! Skin you fucker alive!"
Pushing, Mildred shifted all her weight and flung her arms up as best she could, landing across Jessica's upper body.
"You got to go through me. And you don't seem to be a fan of losing me compared to Sam."
Appraisingly, Brady cocked his head at her from the end of the bed, where he watched the show of his own making. "True. But while you've managed to work against me, your brother has—disappointedly—not. Flip her."
"Red! Leg!"
Sam's vocal warning came too late. One of his hands took a hold of her foot, using it to push her across the bed until she was halfway off, then yanked the foot upwards. Feet flying over her head, Mildred crashed into the two chairs she and Sam had been sitting in, landing on chair legs and floor. The invisible force still working against her as she tumbled, trying to get back up.
Pinned at the wall from this side of the hospital bed, Dean's green eyes were wide in a panic at her, freckles stark on his face. "Millie! Are you—Stop this you son of a bitch! Fight him Sammy! Goddamn fucking wall!"
"Stop this! We can talk this over! Me, normal? I've never been normal. Just…just really good a faking it. What do you—please!"
"You know," Brady voice mused contemplatively. "You would stop being such a worthless sack of piss for her, wouldn't you Sam? Lost a bit of that mild-manner already today. Toughen up, get back in shape, all that jazz. That probably does sound attractive. To you. Think you can toughen up and research and kill a few demons and it's over with Jess waiting for you at the end of it all. That'd be the plan. Don't blame you. It's smart. Compromise, play along, maybe save Brady, kill me, and back to a Jess filled happy ending to once upon a time."
Halfway up, hauling herself up with the guardrail, Mildred saw Brady pull a face of absolute disgust.
"Blargh! Barf."
And the demon's hands left the footboard, arms out wide like a ringmaster, a wide grin on his face.
"Sam! You leave my brother alone you sick sonuvabitch!"
"No!" Shrieking, Mildred pulled the guardrail, struggling to move the hospital bed, eyes burning with unshed tears as she watched Sam's hands position the crowbar tip directly above Jessica's chest.
Panicking, head jerking around, Sam did whatever he could to move his own arms. Then, eyes wide, spun his head to Brady. Jaw trembling and voice catching horribly.
"Brady! Brady, no. If you're in there, don't do this, don't, please, no, no, no!"
Black eyes full of steel, Brady's deep voice was pure demonic glee.
"Down."
