A/N1: Dedication time! My heartfelt gratitude goes to Darwin for keeping me off the floor while I struggled to get this chapter done.
Sam lifted the Sharpie's point from the paper. He stared at what he'd written.
Could this be it? Had he figured it out?
Thank you, William of Ockham, he fervently thought.
It had turned into another beautiful sunny day, and Sam was determined that it wouldn't be the last. In the past hour or so, he'd filled several pages with his scrawl. At the top of the first, he'd drafted a table. Within it, he'd assigned numbers to the alphabet, like reverse-engineering a decoder ring, beginning with the most obvious.
His first try had resulted in:
4144171 = DADDAGA
According to his favorite search engine, Daddaga Hana was a location in Kawaga, Japan – an unlikely match. So, he'd tried the next most obvious variations of numbers to letters. Evens. Odds. Primes. Pi. The Fibonacci Series.
Then he hit on the idea that, if it was a name, it probably had a capital letter. After a few more tries, he'd come up with a larger table.
Two codes, not one, though neither was complicated. Counting by two for the capitals, counting by one for the lower case, a repeating pattern. He was pretty sure now that this information was from Julia, and not a trap or distraction. Lilith had obviously never considered that Sam would get this information. Her demons hadn't been aiming for an unbreakable code; they'd been ticking all the boxes. Using both tables, Sam had written a respectable list of possible names.
Aya, whose curiosity had gotten the better of her somewhere around the Magic Square series, ran her finger down his newest list and alighted upon one name.
4144171 = Kammapa
"Kammapa. I've heard that before," she said, frowning at it. "Something Paulie told me once? He was really big on Dungeons & Dragons when he was a kid, and he knows all kinds of myths because of it. Fountain of useless knowledge, he calls it, but I always thought his stories were interesting. Let me check." The search engine was still up. She leaned over, nudged the laptop to the side so her little fingers could reach the keys, and began typing. Then she pointed, her lips thin. The secondhand couch creaked as she sat back.
Sam read the webpage's introduction, the lingering sweetness of maple syrup frosting going sour on the back of his tongue.
This had to be it. A South African myth, Kammapa was also known as the Eater of the World.
What was it Castiel had said?
When freed is the Void, neither Hell, nor Earth, nor Heaven offer sanctuary. Wail your grief, you children of the Lord, for the number of souls to sate the Void is uncountable.
"If you're right, then Lilith is trying to entice Kammapa to appear," he said. "She's going to sacrifice souls to it and then set it loose in the city."
It made sense. The sacrifices, twenty-four souls, were probably scheduled to be released once an hour for one full day, acting as a trail of breadcrumbs. The psychic fog that Castiel had reported blocking both the angels and the reapers had left hundreds more souls drifting around the city than there should have been. The demon's fixation on Aya, a girl who could speak with the dead, was probably connected to all of it.
Not the most ideal situation, but then, when was it ever? Chances were good they weren't going to stop the summoning in time. The next question, then, was always: How do we kill it?
"Wait, what?" Although she'd been the one to find it, Aya sounded startled. "You mean, this thing is real?"
He breathed a laugh, the sound stiff and uncomfortable even to him. That question always came up, and the answer only made him sound like a nutjob, which was why the number one rule was Keep the Secret. "Yeah, I keep thinking we've reached the end of the list," he said dryly. "Then something else happens. Someday, we're going to run into a real unicorn." With rainbows streaming out of its horse's ass and everything. He could just imagine the look on Dean's face if he saw that galloping by.
Her eyebrows tented. "O-kay," she said slowly, doubtfully. But he'd forgotten that Aya wasn't the usual deer-in-the-headlights. She settled closer to him, tucking her feet under her legs. "So then . . . how are you supposed to stop something like the Eater of the World?" She peered at the website. "Oh, wait. This says Kammapa was killed by a demigod named Ditaolane, which means 'diviner.' He did it by cutting the monster apart with a knife. Oh. Ew. From the inside."
Not a pretty mental image. Sam scrubbed his hands over his face. Maybe a primordial being like Kammapa – which looked, according to one artist, like a misshapen black slug sprouting eight skinny, arm-like legs – couldn't be killed.
"We've run across this kind of thing before. Stories change as time goes on. I'm willing to bet this Ditaolane sealed it away instead of killing it," he said. In another dimension. Where it had been waiting, ancient and hungry and unstoppable.
Ideally, Kammapa wouldn't make an appearance at all. He and Dean would kill Lilith, now that they knew where she was and what she was up to. No Lilith, no ritual, seal saved. Not that they'd managed to save a seal yet, as Castiel had so helpfully pointed out recently. Despite their promises, they'd failed to prevent Samhain's resurrection. Furious with their failure, Uriel had made some broad and worrying threats concerning Sam and his brother.
Worst case scenario then. Lilith was going to summon Kammapa. Which brought him right back to the beginning. How do we kill it?
Sam eyed a second drawing, of Kammapa's mouth. It looked like a fleshy, tooth-lined flower, big enough to swallow a Cadillac Escalade without scratching the paint. If the lore was correct, the more Kammapa ate, the bigger it got, and the more it would eat. Until it ate everything.
Maybe he could track down the necklace of divining charms that Ditaolane had been born wearing, Sam mused to himself, his fingers busy on the laptop's keys, the soft tick tick tick filling the small apartment. Castiel, a creature as ancient as Kammapa, could help with that, he was sure. They had to be prepared to kill the monster or seal it away as Ditaolane must have. Preferably without anyone jumping in.
God, he hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Aya got up to refresh their coffees, doing that little rearranging of her capris' waistband and the flipping out of her sweater's hem that all girls did.
Brooding over the seal, and all the seals already broken – what were they up to now, forty? – Sam pressed his teeth together, the muscles in his jaw working. If he could get to Lilith and kill her, he could stop it. All of it. He could end this nightmare that had started with a fire in his nursery when he'd been six months old.
His right hand clenched into a fist and his eyes slid toward his jacket. Toward the flask in its pocket still a third full of Ruby's donated blood. He allowed himself a mouthful every time he got a few seconds alone. It was enough, for now, to quiet the ever-present craving. He'd been careful to keep it out of Dean's sight as well as Aya's. She didn't need to know about that side of him. Neither one of them did. He wished he didn't.
"Time to call your brother?" she asked, bringing him out of his Ruby-red thoughts as she sank into the cushions and offered a full mug of almond milk-sweetened coffee.
"Time to call my brother," he affirmed. He reached for his phone.
Dean answered on the third ring. "Sam."
"Hey," Sam said, setting his mug on a stained coaster featuring a hand-drawn fox. He could hear the Impala's growl and knew Dean was on a highway somewhere. They'd had variations of this same conversation so many times before that he jumped right in. "The demons are trying to summon Kammapa."
"Ka-what? Wait a second." Some fumbling. A beep. "You're on speaker, Sam, go ahead."
With Aya sitting cross-legged next to him on the small couch, her knee pressing into his thigh and her mug cradled in her hands, Sam ran through everything they'd found.
"Ditaolane's divining charms," came Castiel's low-pitched, gruff voice, slightly distorted through the small speaker. "I can help with that. Give me a moment."
"A moment, he says," Dean scoffed. "We don't even know if the necklace ex-hists!"
The last word ended on a squeak. Sam grinned at Aya. Dean sounded like he'd knocked his head on the car's side window.
"Here," said Castiel.
A long moment crawled by. The Impala's rumble grew fainter and then ceased altogether. "Cass," Dean said through the phone. "It's just a bunch of bones and pebbles on a string. Is this really it?"
"Yes."
"And you found it? Just like that?"
"It wasn't easy," the angel said, and Sam grinned more broadly. "After Ditaolane saved the human race from Kammapa, the humans began to distrust him because of his powers." His already low voice went lower still, as though he was imparting a great secret. "He used the charms to stay ahead of the hunting parties. He turned himself into a stone. Though he did not stay a stone, his whereabouts are currently unknown. That is why it took me so long –"
Sam chuckled, muffling it with his fist, and Aya, who had been leaning against his shoulder to listen in, mouthed, "Is he serious?"
Sam nodded, whispering, "Angels can move through time," but he didn't get a chance to enjoy her expression because Dean was talking again.
"All right. We've got the magic necklace. We've got a magic knife. We know where the seal is. Let's get this bitch." The car engine roared to life. "Rendezvous back at the apartment?"
"We'll be here." Sam disconnected, but not before they heard Castiel say, "At least you won't have to go spelunking in a toilet, Dean."
The line went dead. Sam and Aya burst out laughing.
Aya covered her mouth with her fingers. "Should I ask?"
"Best not to," Sam assured her. "Is there anything else your friend might have told you about the Kammapa myth that you can remember?"
Aya considered, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, revealing a small earring shaped like a white rose. "No, it was just the name that was familiar. I wish I could call him, but –" She spread her hands.
Right. No cell. No computer. No landline, either.
A pitiful sound, rather like a stricken cowbell, rang out.
Sam snorted, trying not to laugh. "What was that?"
"My doorbell," Aya said, pushing away from him when he did laugh. "Shut up, it's broken!" But she grinned as she headed for the door.
"Wait!" he whispered. The calm mood of the morning evaporated instantly. He tossed his marker and notepad onto the coffee table, and then tipped the laptop closed. In two long strides, he pressed himself to the wall next to the door, opposite the tiny table that probably held keys and phones when the girls were home, against the pegs from which several purses hung. He slid Ruby's serrated knife from his sweatshirt.
Aya's eyes widened as she got a good look at the spellwork etched into the curved blade. She watched him toe aside a small rug, checking the devil's trap he'd spray-painted on the underside of it.
It was still there, still intact. He kicked the rug flat, got a good grip on the knife, and nodded at her. Showtime.
A little pale, Aya went to the door. She unlocked the bolt but left the chain on, as he'd instructed her.
Then, "Oh, my God! Paulie!"
Ignoring Sam's frantic hand signals, she slid the chain free of its bracket, reached out, and pulled her lanky guyfriend over the threshold.
Sam backpedaled, glad that Aya's apartment was so sparsely furnished. She was supposed to keep herself out of arm's reach until Sam gave her the thumbs up, but she had forgotten entirely.
The guyfriend looked like crap. He was shivering. Sam watched for any hesitation as Paulie's feet – both of them filthy, one of them bloody – passed over the trapped rug. None. All right. One test down.
As unobtrusively as he could, he leaned down to pick up the open plastic bottle perched on the edge of the coffee table.
"What happened to you?" Aya exclaimed, frantic. She checked Paulie over, pushing back his hair, trying to feel for a fever. "You're hurt!"
Paulie's shivering abruptly ceased. Smoothly, he captured her wrists in one hand, yanking them down and to the side, which caused her to stumble. The rug caught under her socks and bunched up, the painted trap visible and now useless.
Paulie blinked. The tiny motion made a flicking noise.
Alerted by the faint, odd sound, Aya looked up at him.
She jumped.
"No!" she shrieked, the word ripping out of her. "What have you done to him? What have you done?"
Sam dove in, the knife slashing toward the demon's all-black eyes. Paulie swung Aya around. The rug went flying.
Aya banged into Sam. Sam lifted the knife high to avoid accidentally stabbing her. Paulie tried to drag her out of the apartment. She resisted. Her foot hooked on the lower edge of the door and slammed it shut.
Paulie cursed.
Holy water dashed out of the bottle in Sam's hand. It splashed all over Paulie's face and down his front. Upon contact, it hissed and steamed like acid.
He let out a roar that sounded only half human, a chorus of several different voices. Teeth clenched, he scrubbed at his smoking skin and blinded eyes with his sleeve.
"No! Sam!" Aya cried through the hair whipping across her face. "Don't hurt him! It's Paulie!"
"It was Paulie! Now it's the demon!" he shouted back at her.
"I know!" Impending tears constricted her voice. She continued struggling, this time to put herself between Sam and her friend. "But it's Paulie, you can't hurt him, please –"
"That's right, Winchester, you can't hurt me," the demon crooned. Wisps of steamy smoke rose from his wet face. Laughing, he mimed throwing a baseball underhanded at Sam.
A hot wind grabbed him and lifted his entire six-foot-four frame off the floor. While in the air, he heard Aya cry out, "Stop! Stop it!", saw her yank harder at Paulie's hand. Then he crashed into her fake fireplace. The whole thing wobbled, the plaster behind it caving. It dropped picture frames, a potpourri dish, and a Galileo thermometer on him. They broke and smashed and bounced, their corners and edges hitting him hard. In the temple, in the ribs, on his ankle. He curled up under the onslaught of metal and glass and colored water mixed with alcohol.
"Bet you're wondering how I got past your little trap," the demon said conversationally as the last smashes faded away.
"Not really, no," Sam grunted. He shook glass out of his damp hair, brushed at his cheek, felt a small grain slice it open.
Paulie scowled at him. "It's simple," he said, apparently determined to explain his genius. "I knew she could see me, so I hid. I went to sleep. Tucked myself all nice and tidy in a corner of the brain. Gave the fag control, plus a little hypnotic suggestion. It was a gamble, but he brought me right where I wanted to be."
"Right where I wanted you, you mean," Sam said. He grimaced, and the cut wept, but he didn't bother to wipe the blood away. Kerosene-like fumes from the broken thermometer stung his sinuses. He stood up, feet wide, and held out his hand. Palm out. Like Ruby had taught him. "Say goodbye."
The demon saw what was coming the same time Aya did. Paulie held her in front of him like a shield, his free hand scrabbling for the doorknob two feet off target.
Aya, whose dark eyes had tracked every movement of Sam's, sucked in a quick breath. Then she screamed. At Sam. When he looked down at her, she flinched into Paulie. As if the demon cowering behind her could save her from the guy who was actually trying to.
Sam swallowed hard. Just moments ago, they'd been friends. Easy with each other, enjoying each other's company. But now . . . He would never be able to unsee her expression right then. The horror in it. The pity.
Tucking his chin, he tried to ignore the shame that threatened to crush him, because it was happening. The thing that he loved. The power from Ruby's blood flowed up like a wave of heat, flushing through his chest, his neck, his face. It burned down his arm. It set his palm ablaze with heat.
Heat that he aimed at the demon.
Instantly, Paulie choked. He convulsed. He snarled.
He tried to threaten Sam with his black, black eyes and bared teeth.
Smirking, Sam increased the strength of his psychic assault. Ruby's blood sang within him. It felt incredible. Like he was on top of the world.
Paulie gagged. Black sludge trickled past his lips. He heaved. More sludge poured out. He sagged to his knees and his fingers loosened.
Tears streaming down her face, Aya backed away. Not toward Sam. To the side, near the crumpled rug.
"What are you doing to him?" she whispered, unable to tear her gaze away from the sight of her friend puking up sulfur-stinking smoke that stained his white teeth like charcoal toothpaste.
"An exorcism," Sam said shortly, concentrating on his task. The demon vomited copious amounts of black smoke that gushed to the floor and pooled there like oil, sparking with tiny golden threads. "Sending the demon back to Hell."
"You can't get rid of me, you freak," the demon groaned, leering up at Sam.
"Watch me," Sam said. He pushed harder with the power until he could almost feel the demon's essence against his palm.
Paulie choked and spat and coughed, the tendons in his neck straining.
Observing the body eject the demon the way distressed coral purged its symbiotic algae filled Sam with a sense of exhilaration. The knife, should he use it, would kill both the demon and Paulie, but his exorcism would save Paulie.
Because that was what hunters were supposed to do. Save people. It was better this way.
Sam could save people.
A brown fist swung out of the air and cracked into his face.
A/N2: Ugh, my most sincere apologies for the delay in this chapter, Dear Readers. To tide us all over until I can get the next one done, I am here to HIGHLY recommend a fic by IHeartSPN, which could absolutely use a little more love, titled "They Called Them Angels." Seriously. Go check it out. Love it, as I do.
Oh! And speaking of! If you didn't notice that I posted it, I invite you to check out another story on my profile, "Among Us: Deleted Scenes." There are currently two short one-shots related to this story that I'm rather proud of in there. ^_^
Reviewer Thanks! Darwin, Momochan77, happyperson42, MiMiMargot, IHeartSPN, and St4r Hunter. Your reviews kept me going when it felt like I was going nowhere. Thank you so much.
I have to mention Momochan again, who made an offhand comment about Aya being able to see the demons within people, and wondering if she'd be able to see the demon blood within Sam. I originally wasn't going to set this story so far into S04, so I hadn't considered the possibility myself. Now I have! Thanks for the idea, Momochan!
Please please pretty please leave a review before you leave! Please? I know, I'm voracious, but I just can't express how happy seeing your names makes me!
Most Humbly Yours,
~ Anne
P.S. So, weird formatting naturally doesn't translate to this site. I'll be self-pubbing this book on Amazon, should you be interested, and both the paperback and Kindle versions will show Sam's tables properly!