Seven Devils

Chapter 31 / Freaky Friday

"Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You."

— Dr. Seuss, Harry Birthday to You!

"So the batshit hags actually helped?" Dean took a swig of his beer.

Marlene rested her elbows on the table, cupping her face with one hand and playing with the straw in her soda with the other, "Lucifer would've received an express delivery from Ohio if they hadn't," she sighed, "And it was actually a he-hag. They called him the 'flamen'."

Dean quirked an sceptical brow, "Oh, and did you dance naked around a bonfire?"

"Ha-ha. They're not that pagan," Marley said and then frowned, "At least I don't think so. Anyway, the binding spell actually worked," she spread her arms in triumph, "This power, it just...burst out of me, like it somehow sensed I was in danger. And I didn't die from using it, so that's great."

Sam remained quiet for the entirety of her story, his face bearing a perpetual expression of disbelief and confusion.

"And you exorcised two demons?" Dean clarified, a glint of suspicion in his green eyes.

"I learned the incantation when I was bored, figured it would come in handy. And wouldn't you know it, it actually did," Marlene droned sarcastically, "I was surprised it'd worked, though, seeing as — "

"How did they find you?" Sam cut in. He sounded oddly anxious.

She shrugged and took a sip of the soda, "No idea. I've been carrying the hex bags everywhere — they couldn't have tracked me. Must've been my luck," she set the glass back on the table and struck a more imposing pose, "But enough about me. What's the deal with your phones?"

"Lost them," Sam piped up. Dean levelled him with a stare. Marlene glanced between them, trying to figure out what's going on.

"Here you go, guys," a waitress chirped, sliding up to their table with three shots of tequila.

"You know, do me a favor, sweetheart," Dean gave the waitress a charming smile, "Would you bring me a cheeseburger with extra bacon? And fry an egg on top of it, would you?"

Swooning, she replied, "Absolutely."

"Ooh, that – that sounds good," Sam enthused, "Ditto." Marlene nearly choked on her soda, gawking at him.

"Be right back with your order," the girl winked at Dean and scurried away.

Dean stared at Sam for a moment and then leaned in, "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Sam?"

"W-what do you mean?"

"Bacon cheeseburgers now?" his brows lifted a fraction.

"I don't know," Sam bristled, "I eat them, don't I?"

Marley snorted, "Sure you do."

"Well, we are celebrating," he said defensively and lifted his glass in a toast, all cheer.

"Yeah, I guess," Dean sighed and did the same, smiling a weary smile, "Another one bites the dust. Nice work today," he glanced at Marlene, "All of us. Real nice job, kid. Didn't think you could pull it off."

"Aw, thank you," she returned sarcastically.

"And I had a, uh, really awesome day today, man. Seriously." Dean frowned at the sudden heartfelt confession. Even Marley was stumped by such raw emotion from Sam whose coping mechanism of choice was bottling it all inside, whatever the consequences. They both watched as he downed the shot, wincing at the burn like a freshman, "Whoo! Sweet!"

Dean wasn't going to let it go, though, "A really awesome day?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

A wave of dizziness suddenly washed over Marlene. She blinked her eyes.

"It was a random, D-list ghost hunt. That's — that's awesome to you?"

Sam shrugged, "What, I can't be in a good mood?"

Something warm trickled down her nose. Sensing it was her cue to leave before it got worse, Marlene shoot up from her seat, wincing at the aching pain in her knee. That drew their attention, "I'm gonna go, uh, powder my nose," she told them, turning her face slightly away.

"Sure. Try not to get killed!" Dean called after her.

"Try not to get killed," Marlene mumbled shrilly and headed to the lady's room, trying not to drop unconscious in the process.

She burst into the empty bathroom and leaned against the sink, gripping onto the sides tightly. Marley'd been trying to appear tough in front of Dean to avoid any more concerned 'I told you so's', but her head was hurting like a bitch. And now another nosebleed — spectacular. It seemed even the binding spell had its limits. She wished Orontes had given her a manual.

Marlene took some paper towels and wiped the blood off her face, making sure there was not a spot left. She examined her battered mien in the mirror — well, if that cut scarred, Marley'd probably have to get herself a Phantom of the Opera mask. It wasn't particularly deep, though, so she wouldn't have to worry about that.

Letting out a deep, measured breath, she splashed some cold water on her flushed face and ran her fingers through the tangled mess that was her hair. It wasn't for any particular reason. Or for any particular person.

Once the girl in the mirror looked less like an extremely anaemic Victorian orphan, Marlene left the sanctuary of the bathroom and headed back to their table. Only Sam's chair was empty and Dean was alone, nursing an unfinished bottle of beer. It was a truly sad sight. A modern-day tragedy.

Marley plumped back into her chair, "Where's Sam?" Dean pointed the bottled at the door. She turned around and saw Sam leaving the bar with an attractive, older blonde. Her face fell a little, "Oh." Marlene really didn't know what she'd expected. Him to don a chastity belt? Take a vow of abstinence? It's her he didn't want, not a hot cougar who wasn't the final rose on Lucifer's Bachelor from Hell.

Dean didn't miss the disheartened look in Marley's eyes. He took a swig of the beer to wash away the guilt, "Hey, Sam's been acting strange today, right? I mean, stranger than usual."

Marley's brow furrowed. She thought back to their conversation back at the motel, "I guess he has seemed a bit off tonight. And that text he sent me..." she trailed off and then winced, "Oh, that reminds me. I should probably call Bobby."

"Why?" Dean asked.

"I hung up on him and went AWOL. Though my phone is wrecked," Marley remembered with an exasperated sigh, "Dammit."

"You can use one of ours. We've got a few stashed in the car," Dear finished up his beer.

"Well yeah, but none of them are working."

"What do you mean they're not working?"

"Bobby and I tried all of them," Marley told him, "Nada."

Dean paused, brows twitching together into a frown. He glanced at the door, then at the empty plate with the cheeseburger Sam'd devoured. The frown seamlessly morphed into a murderous glower, "Son of a bitch," he snarled and stood up, much to Marlene's surprise.

"Where are you going?" she trailed hastily after him, which wasn't easy with a limp and a raging headache.

Out in the parking lot, Dean headed straight for the Impala, determined and majorly pissed. He opened the passenger door and dived into the glove compartment. Whatever he'd found or hadn't found in there made him all the more furious.

"Dean, what is it?"

Slowly, he turned to Marlene, "I don't know who that chipper stoner in there was, but it definitely wasn't my brother."

"What?" she stared at him, incredulous, "But how..."

"That's what we're gonna have to figure out."

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

Housatonic, Massachusetts

To put it plainly, Sam was feeling at a slight disadvantage strapped to a pole in some kid's parents' basement. The fact that he had been knocked out and strapped to the pole by two teenagers didn't make the situation better. Even if he was a teenager himself. Technically.

"I don't think he's gonna do it," the boy, Trevor, told his friend. He seemed anxious and fidgety, "I don't think he has the guts to kill that guy."

Sam struggled against the ropes, with little success. God, that Gary guy was scrawny. He looked at the two kids, "Hey, listen —

"Just relax, this is Gary we're talking about," the girl reassured Trevor, both ignoring the huge elephant in the room.

"What the hell is going on here?" Sam demanded, finally drawing their attention, "How do you know who Dean and Marlene are?"

"Everybody knows them," Trevor huffed, "Dean's Hell's most wanted. And that girl — Marlene — is number one on their wish-list. Rumor has it, they want her alive," the little dipshit smirked, "Can't say the same about your brother."

But Sam wasn't angry. No, he felt sorry for them, "Oh, no," he said when the realisation hit him, accompanied by growing panic, "No. Have you idiots been talking to demons?"

"Oh, right," Trevor chuckled mirthlessly, "We're the idiots."

Sam sighed, "You're just kids. You have no idea what you're messing with."

The girl behind Trevor frowned. He, however, strolled up to Sam with a highly misplaced cockiness, "Well, we know that there's a price on Dean's head and a hefty reward for Marlene. And we're the ones that are gonna collect."

Sam blanched, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"About a month ago, we were down here — "

Trevor's glare shut the girl up, "Nora," he warned.

"What? We're not allowed to talk about him?" she held her friend's menacing stare to make a stubborn point and then looked at Sam again, "We were down here, goofing around with that book —"

"Um, I wouldn't exactly call praying to our dark overlord "goofing around", Nora."

She rolled her eyes, "Don't be a loser, Trev."

"Yeah, Trev," Sam baited. The teenage boy cut him an annoyed look.

"Anyway, all of a sudden, the lights flickered and Gary went into this weird trance," Nora continued and walked to the table to get the book of spells. She opened it and took out two sheets of paper, "He closed his eyes, picked up a pencil, and drew this." The girl unfolded the paper and showed Sam drawings of Dean and Marlene.

"And you know what's really weird?" Trevor chimed in, arms crossed, "Gary can't draw."

"He said he...heard a voice in his head. The demons were putting out a bounty on these two."

Sam frowned, "A bounty?"

"Yeah, like, every witch or Satanist across the whole country," Nora said. Sam closed his eyes — that was bad, "But Gary — " the girl smiled, proud, "Gary's the one who spotted you and made the connection."

"And the..."Freaky Friday" crap?" Sam asked.

"Another spell from the book. Gary's idea — go in Trojan horse-style," her cheeks turned pink, "He's really smart."

"That is, if he has the beanbags to go through with it." Nora shot Trevor a glare over her shoulder.

"Listen to me. You are making a terrible mistake," Sam tried to reason with them, though his efforts were mostly concentrated on Nora — he could see she was having doubts, "We're talking about a demon deal — killing somebody. This isn't a game. You're crossing a line you won't come back from. Believe me."

Just as Sam had hoped, Nora grew noticeably alarmed. She looked over at Trevor.

"What?" the boy barked.

She shook her head, "Nothing. I-I..."

Trevor came closer to her and whispered, his voice urgent, "Nora, don't tell me you're actually listening to this jerk."

"I don't know. M-maybe," she hissed in confusion and panic, " I-I mean, what if he has a point?"

"I don't believe this. First Gary, now you. I can't — " Trevor broke off and went suspiciously silent. "You know what?" he spoke again after a moment, sounding eerily calm, "Fine. You want something done right..."

Nora watched him go back for the book with trepidation, "What, you're gonna — you're gonna go kill Dean yourself, tough guy?"

"Don't have to," Trevor said smugly and turned the book around to show her a page about demon summoning, "I can do this."

Nora's face slacked, "N-no, no. Y-you can't be serious."

"I'm calling up one of these bad boys, turning these punks over, and getting paid! Dolla, dolla bills, y'all!"

Sam tried to get himself free again, but his hands were bound too tightly and Gary had very little strength in his upper body. Or any part of his body, for that matter.

"I-I really don't think that that's a good idea," Nora spluttered, trembling with fear.

"It's not," Sam spoke up, having given up on breaking free, "It's a very, very bad idea."

"No one asked you," Trevor glowered and looked down at the book to begin the summoning.

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

"Uh, this is gonna sound crazy — really crazy – but I think, uh, I think I'm in the wrong body," Sam chuckled nervously. The voice message ended and another one started after a beep, "Dean, the guy right next to you is not me!" Beep. "Dean, check your friggin' voicemail. Damn it!"

Marlene and Dean stared at the landline motel room phone, shocked into completely silence. "How many of those are there again?" she asked after a while.

Dean sighed, "Thirty eight."

"So...what are we gonna do? Go back to Housatonic and try to find him? Or —"

"No, this guy is up to something," Dean paced the room, looking around for any clues, "He didn't just decide to swap meat suits with Sam for the fun of it, no one in their right mind would want to be him."

Marlene had to agree on that one. "What do we do then?"

"We throw the bastard a surprise party, that's what."

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

Gary snuck into the room, careful not to make any noise. It took him a moment to adjust to the darkness, but when his vision finally cleared, he noticed someone on the bed, curled under the covers. So, Dean Winchester was sleeping. Thank God, Gary thought, relieved, That should be easy. He couldn't let his friends down, not when they'd already come this far. He'd kill the guy, hand the hot girl over to the demons and then go wherever he wanted. No plans, no worries, no parents — he'd be Sam freaking Winchester. Forever.

Gary noticed something glimmer on the chair — it was a handgun. He couldn't help but chuckle. It was almost too easy. Overfilled with confidence, he grabbed the weapon and aimed it into nothingness, removing the safety. It felt really nice in his hand. Powerful.

With a cocky smile, Gary slowly shifted the aim towards the bed, but instead of the peacefully sleeping figure he was met with a dark, imposing silhouette. Before he could pull the trigger, Dean Winchester appeared out of the shadows and punched him straight in the face. He seized Garry by the coat, "You're not Sam," he growled, pulling him closer. It was unsettling to see Sam so terrified, "Who the hell are you?"

"Ow," Gary whined. Then his eyes settled on something behind Dean — it was Marlene, watching them with her arms crossed over her chest.

Dean gave him a good shake, "Talk, damn it!"

"Alright-alright! I...I'm Gary."

"Gary who?" The guy stared at Dean stubbornly, refusing to say anything else, "Being all shy now? Fine by me. Pass me the ropes, Marlene." Gary sent her a pleading look, but she ignored it. With a sweet smile, Marley placed the rope into Dean's outstretched hand.

A few moments later, Gary was tied to a chair, cowering before Dean. He chanced a look at him and shuddered, meeting his murderous glare. "All right, pal. Either you start talking or I start water boarding."

"Oh, my God. Please, don't hurt me," Gary begged, eyes brimming with tears, "Please! I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"

Dean looked at him, bemused, "Hey, pull it together, champ," he leaned over and gave the boy a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Gary almost screamed in horror. Dean pursed his lips.

"I don't want to die. I don't want to die..."

"Relax, Gary, we're not gonna kill you," Gary's eyes shifted to Marlene, hopeful, "If you tell us what you did to Sam, that is." Just like that, he was overfilled with terror again.

Dean turned to her, brows raised. She gave a blasé shrug. "So, are you gonna speak or not?" he asked Gary again, "Where's Sam?"

"In my — my friend's basement," Gary spluttered, breaking like a twig, "His parents are out of town."

Marlene frowned. Dean mirrored her confused expression, "Parents?" Gary nodded, "How old are you?"

He gulped, "S-seventeen."

"Holy shit," Marley muttered.

"17?" Dean repeated in disbelief, "Huh — " He went flying backwards into a wall and fell to the floor, unmoving.

"Dean!" Marlene screamed. She rushed to him, but was promptly thrown back, crashing into a lamp. She struggled to stand up on the broken glass.

Eyed wide, Gary turned and saw a young girl with red hair and a pair of familiar green eyes, "Nora?" he gaped. His best friend walked closer to him, something dangerously predatory in her prowl. Gary shivered when her eyes turned black.

"Not at the moment," the demons cooed, "Boy, you earned your dessert tonight, kiddo," she began untying him from the chair, "Tell me — what is it you want? Anything."

Gary cracked a tentative smile, "Anything?"

"Lay it on me!"

Freed from the ropes, he stood up, eyes glimmering with excitement, "I want to be a witch. For real. And really powerful."

Nora grinned, "Mm, good choice. I get it," she strolled around the room, passing by Marlene who glared at her, still on the ground, "No daddy, no M.I.T. No plan. You get to be big and strong, and no one can tell you what to do anymore," the demon stopped next to Dean's limp body, smiling at it fondly. And then she whirled back to face Gary, "There's just one small formality first." He tipped his head forward in question. "You got to meet the boss."

"The boss?"

Nora advanced towards him steadily, "You know — your...Satanic majesty, or whatever the kids are calling it these days."

Marlene glanced over at Dean and caught his eyes — thank God he was okay. He gave her a slight nod and carefully reached into his jacket for the knife.

Gary frowned, "The devil?" The demon nodded. His enthusiasm decreased significantly, "Uh...no. O-okay. Um, it's okay. I...don't really want to bother him —"

"Oh, but he's gonna want to meet you." Gary was growing increasingly more panicked, "Oh, relax. It'll be easy. He's just gonna ask you one little question, and all you got to do is say "yes". And then..." she pointed a finger at him, "You get your reward."

Dean launched himself at the demon, swinging the knife, but Nora caught his arms with terrifying ease and threw him to the ground. The girl kicked him again and again, merciless in her repeated assault. Revelling in it.

Marlene finally managed to rise to her knees, hands bloody from the wrecked glass, and willed the dormant power to manifest. But the warmth never came. I'm gonna have to ask for a refund. And so she did the next best thing she could think of, "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus — "

Nora turned her pitch-black eyes on Marlene and pushed her back into the wall. Gary watched the scene, frozen in place with fear. He glanced at Dean being beaten to death then at Marlene, slumped on the floor.

"Spiritus, omnis satanica potestas," Gary chanted and instantly stopped when Nora turned to him.

"What was that?" she hissed.

He shrunk under her manic stare, "Uh, n-nothing..."

"Were you trying exorcize me?!" The demon shrieked, aghast, "You little piece of crap!" She grabbed Gary by the throat and lifted him off the ground.

Wincing from pain, Dean willed himself to stand up, "Spiritus, omnis satanica potestas."

The demon released Gary and turned back to him. But before she could attack Dean again, Marlene continued the incantation, "Omnis incursio infernalis adversii."

"Omnis congregatio," said Dean.

"Et secta diabolica," Gary joined in.

The demon was trapped between the three of them, unable to make a move.

"Ergo, draco maledicte."

"Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire," Marlene groaned out, limping over to Dean's side.

"Te rogamus," he flinched as pain rippled through his ribcage, "Adios, bitch!

"Uh, it's 'adinos'," Gary corrected.

The demon crumpled to her knees and screamed as black smoke shot out of her mouth. It did a circle around the small motel room before escaping though the vent in the wall. Nora fell to the floor, unconscious.

Shocked and kind of fascinated by what he'd just witnessed, Gary flashed Dean and Marlene a triumphant grin.

They did not share his sentiment.

𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐

Sam, or rather Gary, showed up at the motel not long after. With some reluctance, the real teenage witch agreed to reverse the spell, and one magical swoosh later, all was right in the world once again. Well, not all since they were still in for the Apocalypse, but to Marlene, things felt exactly the way they should be.

They gave Gary and his friend Nora a lift to Housatonic, letting them off with a warning — meddle in dark magic again, and there would be hell to pay. Looking at Dean, Gary knew that it was an honest promise.

Dean pulled up outside his house.

"Crap," Gary muttered, getting out of the car.

Sam turned to him with a resigned sigh, "Gary, take it from someone who knows — chin up, man." Standing a little farther away next to Nora, Marlene watched the two of them. She had to squint from the drizzling rain, "Your life ain't that bad."

The boy stared, "Uh, you met my parents?"

"Yeah. So what? It's your life," Sam told him, "You don't like their plan for you? Tell them to cram it. Rebel a little bit! In a healthy, non-Satanic way, of course." Gary huffed out a laugh, his eyes straying to Nora. Sam turned too, but his fell on someone else. Marlene sent them a wave, a gesture that seemed ridiculously awkward. Sam looked back at Gary, "By the way, you know why Nora's into witchcraft?"

"What do you mean?" Gary asked, perfectly oblivious.

"She doesn't like Satan, you moron. She likes you."

The boy frowned in disbelief, "Really?" he grinned, "You think?"

"Yeah, I know. I'm telling you, kid — I wish I had your life."

"You do?" Sam gave a little shrug and nodded, "Thanks!"

Gary smiled sheepishly and made to leave, but then stopped and turned back to him, "By the way, that chick is totally into you, man," he glanced over at Marlene. Sam did the same and felt a pang of guilt deep in his chest. It only became more acute when she sent him a small, tentative smile.

"Goodbye, Gary," Sam gave the boy a farewell pat on the shoulder.

"Bye, Sam. It was cool being you, by the way."

Sam huffed out a laugh, "Well, I'm glad someone enjoyed it. Now get out of here," he jerked his head towards the house.

Gary and Nora headed inside, leaving Dean, Sam and Marlene alone in the rain. Arms wrapped around her midsection to provide some warmth, she walked over to Sam, "What were you two gossiping about?"

Sam buried his hands in the pockets of his coat, "I was just saying how I wish I had his life."

Dean raised a brow, "That was a nice thing to say."

"Totally lied. That kid's life sucked ass," Sam admitted bluntly. Marlene snorted while Dean appeared shocked by Sam's revelation. He would've thought his brother had actually enjoyed his little stay in Pleasantville.

The three of them got into the car, glad to finally be out of the cold rain. "All that apple-pie, family crap? It's stressful," Sam said, shaking his head, "Trust me — we didn't miss a damn thing."

"As someone who didn't have apple pies and family crap, I call bull," Marlene piped up from the backseat, "I mean, come one, who wouldn't want apple pies?"

"I gotta agree with the little Rambo," Dean started the car, "Maybe we just don't know what we're missing."

Sam went silent for a moment, a wistful expression on his face. But it was quickly replaced with annoyance when Bob Seger's "Rock 'n' roll Never Forgets" started playing loudly. Sam groaned, "Oh, come on, man. Turn it down."

For once, Dean obliged, "Welcome back, Kotter," he grumbled and drove away from the house.

A few moments later, Sam spoke again, intrigued, "'Little Rambo'?" he sent Marlene a quizzical look in the rare-view mirror. She rolled her eyes.

"She exorcised three demons in the past two days," Dean beamed, sounding like a proud parent. Sam's brows jumped up.

Marlene sighed, "The third one was a group effort. And I hate that nickname, just so you know."

"Oh yeah?" Dean said with a shit-eating grin, "What would you prefer, then? Sugar pie? Pumpkin?"

"Oh God, not that — "

He glanced over at Sam, "What do you think?"

"I'm kind of liking the Rambo one."

Marlene narrowed her eyes at him, "E tu, Samuel?"

Sam's face hardened at the usage of his full name. Dean guffawed, "What's with the long face, huh, Samuel?"

He shook his head and tuned away to the window, "Dinner with Gary's family doesn't sound so bad right now."

"I bet they're having an apple-pie," Marley sighed dreamily.

"Doubt it. He's gluten intolerant."

Dean seemed scandalised by that, "Jesus," he breathed in honest horror, "No wonder the kid got into black magic." Marlene snorted. Even Sam cracked a smile.

The rain pelted against the window as the Impala drove down the deserted highway, Bob Seger's voice coming faintly from on the radio.