It was supposed to be a simple hunt. Having no luck finding Bela or the colt, always one step behind her. The Winchester brothers had taken on the job of dealing with a small coven of amateur witches, but things were going south fast. The leader of the coven turned out to be a demon. Tricking suburban housewives into selling their souls for the powers of witchcraft. The demon, currently, had Sam pinned to a wall while two of her victim's dead bodies lay on the floor, taunting him with words. "Sammy Winchester, wow. Right here in our small town. You know my friend's and I have been looking for you." She said with a bite of sarcasm.
Rolling his eyes at her, Sam replied, "why? Cause your yellow-eyed friend wanted me to lead his piss poor army? That is..." He taunted with a smirk on his lips, "until my brother killed him."
"No. Not at all. You're not our messiah. We don't believe in you, or Azazel's fantasies. We serve the true king. And he's coming soon. The only problem is you. You're a distraction and bad for business." She said as she raised her hand with a gesture, that lifted him up off the ground to slide up the wall with her power. "Nothing personal. It's a P.R. thing. Without you, our god is gonna tear this world apart." She mocked as she curled her fingers into a fist. Sam could feel an unseen force gripping his throat, choking the life from him. The wall behind him was cracking, caving in from the force of her power crushing him. "He'll never have to know it was me. I'll end you and be gone then no one will be able to stop him. This world will burn." She said with a wicked grin on her face.
Suddenly Dean burst in through the front door. As he ran into the house aiming with his sawed-off shotgun, she turned, flinging him over the couch in the center of the room. Trying to stand she pinned him to the wall opposite of Sam. When she took in his face, she fell to her knees. "My king, forgive me! I didn't know it was you! How stupid of me, I should have known." She begged as she crawled to his feet kneeling before him she kissed his boot, hands splayed out, running up his thighs.
Dean attempted in vain to jerk back, but only succeeded in pressing himself further against the wall. "Don't fucking touch me!" He bellowed at her.
She backed away in a flash, on her knees, hands pressed to the ground, head dipped down so that her forehead touched the floor, as if in prayer. "Have mercy my king! I should never have tried to harm your consort. His majesty is free to bed whom he pleases. Forgive your humble servant." She begged groveling before him. Dean was staring down at her in discomfort. Sam was struggling against the wall to draw his brother's attention. Dean glanced up to see Sam silently mouth, "Play her."
Dean cleared his throat before speaking in a commanding voice. "Put me down."
She looked up at him. "No! My king, please, spare me." She pleaded.
"Stop calling me that. And put me down…Now!" He yelled at her. It wasn't working. So consumed by her fear of him that she started mumbling to herself, rocking back and forth on the floor.
Sam did the only thing he could think of at that moment. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas." He began the rite of exorcism. She rose to her feet in a flash, holding out her hand to silence Sam. As hard as he tried, he couldn't speak.
"You don't understand!" She screamed at him while turning her back to Dean. "The ones with sight say your brother will rule with an iron fist. I must kill you both! Yes, that's it. You both have to die." She said. She was laughing with utter insanity. "He can't see my true face yet. No one will ever know it was me." She paused, fear overriding her victory. "But the others…they know that I'm stationed here. They'll tell the king. Only kill the one and escape." She continued. In her panic, she slipped. Completely forgetting about Dean until he was on her. Gripping her from behind and slamming the demon knife into her side repeatedly, as Sam fell to the floor with a loud thud.
"Dean!" Sam yelled. It was as if his brother couldn't hear him. He just kept stabbing her over and over again, long after the last lightning flash had sparked within her. Until only the sounds were of Dean's grunting mixed with the wet squishing of the blade sinking into the corpse's meat was heard. Dean's lips parted, tongue flicking out to lick his bottom lip. An act of sensual gratification losing himself in his darkness. Sam rushed to his feet. Grabbing Dean's hand before the blade sank in again. "DEAN STOP!" Sam screamed at him. Green eyes locked on hazel. Dean's face was a twisted, angry thing. The look in his eye was that of a wild creature the eyes of a murderer. Then turning soft as he took in Sam's face eyes filling with shame.
"Sammy…I didn't mean to…I." Dean whimpered, letting the body fall to the floor.
Sam stared at him with overwhelming grief. Every time Dean had to kill on a hunt, it got worse. The pleasure he gained from it increasing each time. He'd thought Jake had been the worst. That was until the Vamp nest two months ago. Sam still couldn't think about it. So much blood. The way Dean had looked at him that night. On his knees, covered in blood. Machete still clenched in his shaking fist. The same way the demon inside him had in Regina's vision. He was losing the man he loved. But no matter how he tried, he couldn't pull Dean back from it. That night when they ygo to bed Dean was going to flip him over and fuck him without restraint. Hard and primal. It was becoming a pattern. And Sam would let him because a part of him couldn't resist Dean's touch. Since John's death…killing had become almost a sort of kink for the eldest Winchester.
"Go…I'll clean this up." Sam barked, breaking eye contact with him. He just couldn't look at him right now.
"Sammy I'm sorry," Dean said in earnest. The only spark of hope Sam still held. Dean honestly held a self-loathing for his actions. He tried to fight it. To be the man his brother wanted him to be, even if it was a losing battle.
"I said go, Dean." He said, releasing the older man from his grip.
Dean stumbled to the door, stopping at the threshold. "Sam, I don't get it. Why do you keep doing this for me?" He asked over his shoulder. Sam cleaning up after one of Dean's messes was starting to become a habit. Hiding any trace that the two of them had been there.
Sam sighed. "Because I love you. You're still my big brother." He replied sadly. A minute passed as they stood with their backs to each other. When Sam turned around Dean was gone. He'd slipped out without a sound. A silent predator.
Sam pulled the tarp wrapped bodies from Baby's trunk and back seat. Throwing them into the grave, he'd re-dug of a recently deceased. Pouring salt, followed by lighter fluid over them, and striking a match before throwing it in. Flames erupted out. He watched in silence as they burned. His mind drifting to that night in the nest.
Sam struggled against the binds that held him to the post in the center of the room. He could do nothing but watch as Dean slaughtered the vampires one by one. Taking in the macabre ballet that was his brother whirling to slice through each of them with his machete. He didn't miss a beat as one of them caught him in the side with a clawed hand. As it tore the flesh from him, his blood splattered on the floor as he turned 180 to counter, until only he and their maker were left standing, circling each other. Waiting for the proper moment to pounce. It was over moments after the maker lunged. Dean sidestepped it to shove a syringe of dead man's blood into its abdomen to administer the poison. It stumbled, falling to the floor. Snarling as Dean leaned over it with a smile slicing its head clean off with a single stroke.
Now Sam was being pulled down to straddle Dean's lap as he ripped open Dean's flannel overshirt, buttons skittering across the floor. He tore Dean's tee shirt free to expose the bleeding gash. His hands were shaking as the suture thread pulled through the skin on his brother's abdomen. Reaching up to swat Dean away as he attempted to grab Sam's ass. "De! Stop it." He barked. Dean pressed his teeth into Sam's throat with a hiss as the needle pushed through his flesh again.
"Come on Sammy. You love it." Dean whined as Sam shoved him back.
"Dean stop trying to molest me while I stitch you up. Your bleeding, covered in vamp blood, and we are not doing this here." Sam said as he cut the thread and placed a gauze over the wound.
Dean was nipping at his neck. His blood covered hands roaming up under Sam's shirt to splay out across his stomach before running around to his back to dip down inside his jeans. Gripping the plump globes of his ass cheeks firmly. Causing Sam's head to tip back as he moaned. "You're already so fucking hard." Dean purred against his throat, feeling Sam's erection growing against his stomach. Sam fisted the collar of Dean's open button up in a feeble attempt to resist his desire. Sirens sounded in the distance. Dean released Sam with an irritated growl. Moments later they lay down inside the Impala. Parked in a driveway of a neighboring house down the street until the passing cop cars were out of sight before slipping away.
When the flames died, he once again filled the hole with dirt. He never saw the blacked-out SUV parked across the street. Sam was so caught up in worry over Dean's downward spiral he didn't see it in the rearview mirror. Following no less than five car lengths behind with the headlights off. Didn't see them pull into a diner across the street as he pulled into a motel parking lot.
F.B.I. Agent Victor Henrickson watched from behind the wheel of the SUV as Sam Winchester stepped out of the 67 Chevy Impala to enter room number 5 of The Conquistador Motel. Ignoring the loud crunching of his partner, Agent Calvin Reidy, eating chips. "Tell me why we're waiting again?" Calvin asked, speaking with his mouth full.
Victor sighed. "Because he was alone. We need both of them. And we have to wait for back up. As soon as the local P.D. shows up, we will finally have them." Victor replied. He glanced down at the open file in his lap. The Winchester brothers had been a thorn in his side for quite some time. Suspected of multiple cases of B&E, impersonating all manner of law enforcement, and grave robbery just to name a few.
But these things were child's play compared to the event that had landed them on the F.B.I.'s radar? Well, that was all Dean. Two months ago, local police in a small town had made the call. An abandoned house on the outskirts of town littered with corpses and all beheaded except the ones in cages; those had been exsanguinated. Every. Last. Drop. One person's D.N.A had been found that didn't belong to the victims. It wasn't hard to identify it as belonging to one Dean Winchester. Thanks in part to a drunk and disorderly arrest shortly after his brother started college at Stanford University. Dean, he understood. Reclusive, anger issues, egotistical. The makings of a textbook sociopath.
It was Sam he didn't get. The boy had no previous arrest record. He was squeaky clean. Excelled in his law classes, made friends easily, seemed to have a clear path in sight for the future. Until his apartment caught fire because of a gas leak resulting in the death of his girlfriend, Jessica Moore. He'd withdrew from classes and skipped town. And nobody batted an eye. Thinking the boy to be in grief, until the police had informed him at the murder scene that two agents had already been asking questions around town about the occupants of the house.
Two things were for sure. One, the Winchester's stayed on the move. Two, they covered their tracks well. If it hadn't been for an anonymous phone call giving their whereabouts, they'd still be back at the drawing board. He breathed a sigh of relief as two squad cars pulled into the lot.
The moment Sam had walked through the door Dean was on him. Pressing him against the door, slamming it shut behind him, pressing his palm against it on the side of Sam's head. Crashing his lips to Sam's. Forcing his tongue into Sam's mouth with a throaty groan. And Sam molded to him like putty. His arms snaking around Dean's shoulders, as Dean slid his hands under Sam's ass. Lifting him up to wrap Sam's long legs around his waist. Dean's erection was digging into him while he devoured Sam's mouth. The two of them groaned loudly as they ground against each other. "Fuck Sammy. Gonna fuck you right here against the door." Dean growled in his ear earning him an excited whine from his little brother. Sam was succumbing to the temptation that was sex with Dean.
The motel phone was ringing. They froze, staring at each other. The motel phone never rang. Hunter's never used anything other than personal lines. Dean gently lets Sam down to his feet as he crossed the floor, picking up the receiver to place it to his ear. His expression was growing murderous at the voice on the other end. "Dean? Sweetie are you there?" Bela asked.
Sam watched as his brother's posture changed from frustrated to cold and calculated. "Where are you?" Dean asked in a monotone.
"Where's your usual quippy banter? I miss it." She replied.
"I want it back Bela, now!" He demanded.
"Your little pistol you mean? Sorry I can't at the moment." She teased.
He shifted on his feet, a sign of pent-up aggression. "You understand how many people are gonna die if you do this?" He asked in a calm voice.
"What exactly is it you think I plan to do with it?" She asked sarcastically.
"Take the best weapon we have against an army of demons and sell it to the highest bidder." He barked back at her, his tone growing with aggravation.
"You know nothing about me." She said defensively.
"You're killing my boner bitch. What you say you bring me my colt and I don't kill you?" He offered.
There was a pause before she said, "Tough words for a guy who can't even find me. You were getting close though." She spoke the last part with a slight giggle.
"Oh, I'll find you, sweetheart. Soon. I promise." He said. His words were threatening.
"That's where you're wrong. You're about to be quite occupied." She said. His eyes drifted to Sam who was stepping closer. "Did you think that I wouldn't take precautions?" he heard her say. A puzzled look crossing his face before the door burst open.
Four police officers wearing bulletproof vests, guns raised ran into the room. "Hands in the air!" The first officer to step inside yelled. Sam spun around in surprise, hands slowly rising into the air.
Dean pulled the phone away from his ear, as he raised his own hands he quietly cursed, "That bitch!".
The lead officer was moving closer to him. "Turn around now!" the officer commanded. Two of them gripping the Winchester's by the backs of their shirts, pushing them to lay flat on the floor. Pulling their hands from above their heads behind their backs to place them in handcuffs. The boy's eyes were lingering on each other as the officer recited their Miranda rights.
A tall African American man in an F.B.I. uniform was stepping into the room. He stopped between them. They both slowly turned their heads to glance up at him. "Hi, guys. Boy am I happy to see you two." Henrickson said with a toothy grin.
Victor rounded the corner of the service desk inside the police station. An overweight middle-aged police officer turned to look at him. "Did you get them?" He asked.
Victor waved his walkie-talkie around pointing in every direction of the room. "Where is everybody? I asked for all your men." He said, coming to stand in front of the officer.
"And you got 'em." The man said.
"Four men? That's all?" He asked sarcastically.
The man nodded. "Everyone I could drum up in an hour's notice. This is a small-town Agent Henrickson." Victor was nodding in annoyance. He stepped past the officer, walking towards the holding cell area. The officer slammed his paperwork he'd been holding down on the desk next to him. He and a second officer following the agent.
Victor stopped before a cell holding a sleeping scruffy looking man. "What's he in for?" He asked, morning towards the man.
"Drunk and disorderly." The sheriff replied.
Victor held his hand out. "Keys," he said as the second officer, a tall skinny man, removed them from his pocket to hand them over. Victor opened the cell, stepping in. He tapped the man on the shoulder. "It is your lucky night sir. You're free to go." He said.
The man stumbled out of the station. Much to the sheriff's protest. "Agent Henrickson you can't just release my prisoners!" The sheriff snarled, while he stomped out behind Victor.
"Look I get it. And this isn't how I'd do it if I had a choice. But a tip is a tip, and we had to move fast." Victor said annoyed.
The sheriff still complaining as they re-entered the front of the station. "This ain't my first rodeo." He said.
Victor scoffed. "You've never been to a rodeo like this before. You have any idea who we're about to bring in here?" Victor asked. A noisy looking black-haired girl was sitting at a desk next to them looking uncomfortable as she overheard the discussion. "Two of the most dangerous criminals you've ever seen before. Think Hannibal Lecter and his half-wit little brother. These guys get their kicks digging up graves and mutilating corpses. They're not just killers sheriff. They're Satan worshipping nut bag killers." Victor said. The girl's eyes turned in his direction. She grasped the cross necklace she wore. "So, work with me here. I'll get them out of your hair and on the way at to supermax asap." Victor finished.
The sheriff was giving him an angry stare. "However, we can help." He said the way people do when they smile through their teeth.
"Those men of yours. Post them at the exits." Victor commanded.
"Yes, sir." The sheriff said with a roll of his eyes.
Victor held his walkie to his mouth. The static sound was coming alive as he pressed the talk button. "Reidy, bring 'em in." He said. The dark-haired girl nervously typing away at her desk froze. Her eyes were darting back and forth searching the room.
The front doors opened. Reidy stepped inside followed by the Winchester brothers. Behind them two officers holding shotguns. The brother's eyes were scanning the room as they paced the best they could behind the agent. Chains were connected from the cuffs at their wrists down to their ankles, linking them together. Coming to a stop in front of Victor, the sheriff, the tall skinny cop, and the mousey girl. "Why all the sourpusses?" Dean asked with a smile. Sam wore a sympathetic look as he took in the mousey girl's fear. He glanced down at the nameplate on her desk. Nancy Fitzgerald grew more fearful as she noticed. A supposed Satan worshipping criminal knew her name.
Sheriff Dodd spoke up as she gripped a rosary on her desk. "I'll show them to their cell." Sam heard him say, a look of confusion in his eye as Nancy gripped the item.
"Hey, hey! Watch the merchandise!" Dean said as Reidy gripped him by his sleeve, pulling them toward the holding cells. "We're not the ones you should be scared of Nancy," Dean said to her in an attempt to ease her fear. She turned her gaze from them. It was the last thing they saw before a cell door was closing behind them. The stepped apart, assuming the other would move with them. Dean was trying to sit on the small bed, while Sam was trying to stand at the cell door. They stumbled as the chains around their feet pulled tight, causing them to stumble.
"Dean, come on!" Sam growled.
"Alright, alright. Sit?" Dean said. Suddenly they were moving in fluid motion. In sync as if one around each other untangling the chains to plop down on the cot at the same time. "How the fuck did we end up here?" Dean asked. Sam sighed in reply.
Victor leaned against the bars of the cell holding the boys. "You know what I'm trying to decide?" He said when neither of them would look his way.
"Oh, I don't know, whether Cialis will help with your little condition?" Dean said with a scoff.
"What to have for dinner tonight." Victor proclaimed with a smile. Sam glanced up at him, placing a hand on Dean's back to rub gentle circles. An attempt to keep Dean's temper in check. It was working, for now. "Steak or lobster? What the hell. Think I'll have surf and turf." Victor said through his smile. Dean gave him a sideways glance before leaning back into Sam's touch. The movement was seeming discrete enough that it didn't seem to draw the man's attention to its true nature. "I mean I got a lot to celebrate. Seeing you two in chains." He continued.
"You kinky son of a bitch. Sorry, we don't do other guys." Dean said, emphasizing the word other.
"Dean," Sam said as a warning.
Victor scoffed. "Now that's funny."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, I wouldn't bust out the melted butter just yet. You haven't even told us what we supposedly did." Dean said with a laugh.
"You know you're right. Two months ago? You remember that Dean? Found your blood at the scene. Didn't take long to figure out you were the killer thanks to your record. Take a good long look at Sam. Cause you're never going to see each other again." Victor said triumphantly as two sets of eyes bore into him. "Aw, where's that smug smile, Dean? I wanna see it." He said. Dean turned from him, shaking his head.
"You got the wrong guys," Dean spoke with deadly seriousness. He shrugged Sam's hand from his back. A tell-tell sign that his ability to control his temper was waning.
"Dean," Sam said as if commanding an attack dog to heel.
"Oh? Maybe you got a better reason for why we found your D.N.A in a house full of mutilated bodies?" Victor asked.
"You wouldn't believe us if we told you," Dean replied.
"Try me?" Victor replied.
"Did anybody happen to check dental records of the bodies? Bet most of them had a serious case of overbite if you catch what I'm saying." Dean said.
"Is that a confession? So how would you know about that unless you were involved?" Victor asked, feeling his victory in grasp.
"Humans don't exactly have fangs like that now do they agent?" Dean replied.
"What are you trying to say?" Victor asked.
"Vampires," Dean replied.
Victor let out a bellowing laugh. "Oh, that's rich. You got serious problems, Dean. No doubt daddy touched you in a bad place. That's all. That's reality." Victor said.
Sam stood up from his slouched position beside his brother. Now eyeing the man with the same rage as Dean. "Why don't you shut your mouth," Dean said through his teeth.
"Everybody's got a sob story, but not everybody becomes a killer," Victor said. Helicopter blades could be heard twirling outside as a bright light shone through the small window at the top of the cell. Sam turned to look in its direction. Dean's gaze never left Victor's. "That's your ride to supermax boys," Victor said with a smile. Laughing as he left the holding area.
"What's he talking about Dean? Record?" Sam asked. Dean sighed rubbing his temples.
"It's nothing, Sam. I just got wasted one night." Dean replied, that night replaying in his memories.
Dean turned up the volume on his cell phone as CCR's 'Penthouse Pauper' hit its chorus. He leaned back against the tomb inside the crypt he was hiding in, taking a large gulp of warm whiskey before peeling his blood-stained button up from his body. Dean poured some of the amber liquid over the gash in his arm with a loud grunt. He picked up the players next to him before letting out a few puffs of air. Bracing himself while digging into his flesh, pulling out a small fragment of broken glass. He clumsily stitched together the broken flesh before taping a gauze over it. It was a sloppy patch job. Sam had always been better with these things.
Thinking of Sam hurt more than the burn of liquor down his throat as he gulped the remainder of the bottle's contents. It's been almost a month now since his brother had disappeared. Not one call. Only a pamphlet for Stanford University sent to Bobby's with the words I'm ok scribbled on the back. Dean stumbled out into the graveyard to Baby's trunk pulling a clean shirt over his body before driving to his most recent regular haunt. Ignoring the constant buzzing of John's missed calls. The man only wanted to know if the Wraith had been dealt with.
Now he was slouched back on the squeaky leather couch in the back of the local gay bar. Each night for over two weeks he'd come here. He'd request a dance from the same go-go boy. A slender young thing with shaggy brown hair, hazel eyes, and a dimpled grin. Every night he'd convince himself to take the boy home to hate fuck him. Every night he'd stumble out of the place piss drunk but alone. With the hunt complete and pain nipping at his arm he wasn't feeling it at all. He'd shoved the boy off his lap to the floor with a firm "Piss off." Before tipping his whiskey bottle in hand up to his lips.
The boy scampered off clutching his skimpy shorts only to return with two beefy bouncers. "Sir I'm afraid we must insist you leave." Bouncer number 1 said.
Dean dropped the empty bottle to the floor. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. Just bring me another bottle." Dean warned with a drunken slur. The man attempted to grab him by the collar. Dean kicked his legs out from under him, placed a heavy boot against the man's armpit as he held him by its attached arm. He twisted, the pop of bone going out of socket never heard over the thumping of shit music that Dean hated.
It took three more of them to throw him out the front door on his ass. "You're lucky we don't call the cops." Bouncer number 2 barked at him, laying a massive blow to his face.
"Why so I can tell them that boy's underage?" Dean said with a laugh, pointing at the dancer. They slammed the door in his face. Not to be beaten he stumbled to his feet, whipped his flaccid dick out, pissing on the door as the innocent people walking down the street watched. Giving two shakes, licking blood from his bleeding lip. Then gave an "Ahh." A finger tapped his shoulder. He turned his head to glance over his shoulder to be met with the judgmental eyes of a police officer.
Back in the lobby, a tall man in a nice suit entered the station. F.B.I. Deputy director Steven Groves was carrying a file folder tucked under his arm, a smug expression on his face. Victor held his hand out to him to shake. "Steven." He said as the file folder was placed in his palm.
"Gentlemen," Steven said as he sidestepped Victor. "I'm gonna go take a good long gander at our prisoners while you get that paperwork done." He said walking off towards the holding cells.
Sam became alert to the sound of a door sliding closed at the entrance to the room. Dean rose from the cot, standing at the cell door. Steven stood before then. Hands on his hips in a relaxed fashion. "Sam and Dean Winchester. I'm Deputy Director Steven Groves. This is a pleasure." He said. Stepping closer to the cell door.
"Well, I'm glad one of us feels that way," Dean replied. Steven pulled a gun from his coat, placing the tip of the attached silencer between the bars pulling the trigger. The bullet landing in Dean's shoulder. Blood splattered the wall behind him as it exited. He fell onto the bed. Sam jumped up grabbing the man's arm aiming the gun high as shots continued to rain in Dean's direction.
It was all happening so fast. Dean was covering his head while bullets flew around him. Sam grunted as he fought to overpower the man's grip while in chains. Sam took in Steven's black eyes with surprise. He spoke the holy rite as fast as he could. The demon's head twitched as it fought to stay in its host. "Omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica." Sam chanted as it growled at him.
"Sorry I've got to cut this short. It's gonna be a long night fellas." It spoke as its eyes bore into Sam. It's head twitching as it turned to look at Dean. "Your majesty." It said directly to the older Winchester before black smoke exploded from Steven's mouth escaping into the air vents with a roar from the host's throat. Steven's body falling to the floor just a Victor and the officers rushed into the room, pistols in hand.
"Put the gun down!" Calvin ordered to Sam who was holding Steven's gun with his hands raised.
"Ok wait ok!" He said slowly lowering the weapon.
"He shot him!" One of the officers yelled.
"I didn't shoot anyone," Sam said, placing the gun on the floor just outside the cell. "We didn't shoot him. Ok? Check the body there's no blood." He said slowly moving to Dean's side. Calvin was checking the body, and he looked up at Victor in confusion.
"Vic, there's no bullet wound." He said.
"He's probably been dead for months," Dean said, gripping his shoulder.
"What did you do to him?" Victor demanded.
"We didn't do anything to him," Dean said.
"Talk or I shoot," Victor said, aiming at Dean.
"You won't believe us." Dean barked at him. Sam was looking around a bit distressed. He knew the truth sounded crazy, but he had to try. "He was possessed." He said.
"Possessed? Yeah right." Victor scoffed.
"Fire up the chopper. We're taking them out of here now." Calvin pressed the talk button on his walkie calling out to the pilot. The response was static. "Bill are you there?" Calvin repeated. Nothing but static. Victor tipped his head at him. Calvin jumped to his feet rushing out of the station to the parking lot where the chopper had landed. He drew his gun. Bodies were scattered everywhere. Throats slit open. He stood before the helicopter, bringing the walkie to his mouth. "They're dead. I think they're all dead." He said before the chopper exploded, throwing him back into the pavement. Victor was calling his name over the radio as he sat up coughing up blood he rose to his feet. Calvin felt the presence of someone behind him. He turned coming face to face with the body of one of the corpses. It's slit throat widening in the firelight as it stabbed him.
Back inside Victor, Sheriff Dodd, and Nancy were in the lobby. Nancy proclaimed she couldn't place a call for help. "All the lines are out. The internet, my cell, it's all dead." Her voice trembled as she spoke. Dodd was harping behind Victor's back about his men outside. Dodd and the lanky officer, deputy Phil, were cocking shotguns behind him when the lights went out. Victor sighed, rubbing his hand down his face to settle against his chin as the clicking of emergency lights coming on was heard. "Oh my god," Nancy said with a slight sob.
"No, it's ok. We're gonna go. Right now." Dodd said to console her.
"Nobody's going anywhere," Victor ordered.
Dodd was fed up. "Your partner is out there! My men are out there!" He yelled in frustration.
Victor faced him. "I know. We go out there we're asking to die too don't you get it?" Victor asked with a firm tone.
"Get what?" Dodd yelled.
"They're out there, and they're coming in here. This is a siege. So, this might be a good time for you to lock the door and windows. Take a deep breath and maybe deal with this like trained professionals." Victor said. Dodd nodded in agreement, coming down from his panicked anger. Victor stepped over to Nancy. "You ok?" He asked in a gentle tone. She nodded a shaky yes before a tearful no. "I wouldn't think so. Nancy, I'm gonna get you through this. You got my word. You got that?" He said. She smiled warmly, nodding yes.
Back in the cell, Sam was pressing tissue paper against the wound in Dean's shoulder. "Don't be such a wuss." He said as Dean grunted.
"So, what's the plan?" Victor said. They both looked at him in confusion. "Kill everyone in the station, bust you two out?" Victor said accusingly.
"The hell you talking about?" Dean asked, confused.
"I'm talking about your psycho friends. I'm talking about a bloodbath." Victor replied, anger in his voice.
"Ok, I promise you. Whoever is out there isn't here to help us." Dean said.
Sam took over. "Look you gotta believe us. Everyone here is in terrible danger." He said, trying to convey the urgency of the situation.
"You think?" Victor said sarcastically.
"Why don't. Let us out of here so we can save your asses?" Dean suggested.
"From what?" Victor asked. Dean rolled his eyes. "You gonna say demons? Don't you dare say demons." Victor said as he held his gun up beside his temple. Struggling not to lose his cool. "Let me tell you something. You should be a lot more scared of me." He barked before walking off.
Sam turned to Dean. "How's the shoulder?" He asked.
Dean pulled the tissue away to show the bright red blood soaking it. "It's awesome." He said with an agitated tone. He let out a groan as Sam checked the exit wound on his back. He looked up to see Nancy watching them. Her head poked out shyly around a corner. "Hey?" Dean motioned towards her with a tip of his head.
Sam paced towards her slowly, hands out showing he was unarmed, doe eyes on full display. "Hey uh. Please, we need your help. Nancy, right? My brother, he's been shot. He's bleeding badly. Do you think you could get us a towel? Please. Just one clean towel?"
She eyed him hesitantly. "Look we aren't the bad guys I swear." He said as Dean displayed a goofy looking smile. She dipped back behind the corner. Sam sighed in defeat.
"Nice try," Dean said with a pat on his back. She returned clutching a towel in her trembling hands.
Sam breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you." She crossed the floor slowly as he held his hands out, assuring her it was ok. When she pushed her hand holding the towel through the bars, he gripped her wrist tightly. She screamed.
Phil ran into the room with his shotgun raised. "Let her go!" Sam released her. Both boys put their hands up. She ran away from them her arms crossed her chest in fear. "Try something again. Get shot." Phil said as he and Nancy slowly backed out of the room.
Dean smacked him on the shoulder. "What the hell was that?" he barked. He chuckled softly as Sam held up her rosary.
Moments later they were sitting on the cot with the towel wrapped around Dean's shoulder. "We're like sitting ducks in here," Sam growled.
"Yeah, I know."
"How many you figure are out there?"
"I don't know it's kinda wild right? It's like they're coming right for us. They've never done that before." Sam glanced at him with a slight nod of agreement. "It's like we got a contract out on us. Think it's cause we're so awesome?" Dean said with a smirk.
"I think it's cause they want me out of your way." Sam sighed.
"I think it's cause we're so awesome," Dean said sticking his tongue out at his little brother. Sam gave him a severe knock it off look. Footsteps were heard as Sheriff Dodd walked into the room.
"Well howdy there Sheriff," Dean said with a fake southern accent as he and Sam rose from the cot.
The sheriff opened the cell doors. "It's time to go boys." He said as pointed out of the cell. He advanced on them. They slowly stepped back from him.
"Uh…you know we're just comfy right here. Thanks." Dean said.
Victor walked up behind them. "What do you think you're doing?" He asked.
The sheriff spoke over his shoulder. "I'm not just gonna wait to die here. We're gonna make a run for it." Dodd said. "There's a swat facility in the next town over." He added.
Victor stepped next to him. "We're not going anywhere." Aiming for the sheriff's head, pulling the trigger. Dodd's body fell to the floor as the Winchester brothers launched themselves at him.
They shoved his head into the toilet where the rosary lay. Steam erupted out of the bowl as Sam began speaking in Latin. Phil ran into the room. Dean aimed Victor's gun at him ordering him to stay back. The demon inside Victor fought, his head raising out of the water. "It's too late I've already called them. It said before Sam shoved its head back in.
"Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos." Sam finished the rite. Black smoke funneled out of Victor's mouth flying out of the room as his body hit the floor.
Nancy approached with caution. "Is he dead?" She asked.
He began coughing. "Henrickson! You in there?" Sam said, trying to get Victor to focus on him.
He rose to sit on the cot. "I…I shot the sheriff." He said.
Dean smirked. "But you didn't shoot the deputy." He joked. Sam looked up at him with disapproval. His smile faded as he noticed Sam's look.
Victor was looking around confused. "Five minutes ago, I was fine and then…" he said.
"Let me guess. Some nasty black smoke jammed itself down your throat?" Dean said knowingly. Victor just looked at him blankly.
"You were possessed. That's what it feels like. Now you know." Sam stated.
"I owe you the biggest I told you so ever," Dean said, holding out his hands to give him back his gun.
Victor rose up to his feet. "Officer Amici, keys." He commanded. Taking them from Phil before releasing the brothers from their chains. "All right. So how do we survive?" He said to them.
Moments later Sam was spray painting devil's traps on the floor at every entrance. Dean was in the lobby mapping out every possible door with a red sharpie. Nancy was adequately patching his shoulder when Victor and Phil came in with cases of ammo and guns. They placed them on a desk when Dean scoffed. "Well that's nice, but it's not gonna do much good."
Phil glanced his way. "But…we've got an arsenal here," Phil said.
Dean looked him in the eye. "You don't poke a bear with a BB gun. You're just gonna make him mad. You need salt. Lots and lots of salt." He stated.
"Salt?" Phil said, looking at him questioningly.
"What? Is there an echo in here?" Dean barked.
"There's road salt in the storeroom," Nancy spoke up.
Dean smiled at her. "Perfect. We need salt in every window and every door." He gave the order. Victor and Phil ran off to get to work. "How you holding up?" He said to Nancy.
She smiled at him as she placed the last piece of tape on his bandage. "Ok. That should hold." She said.
"Thank you." He said with a boyish grin. Phil came back into the room with bags of rock salt. "Hey, where's my car?" Dean asked.
"Impound lot out back," Phil replied. "Wait you're not going out there?"
Dean pulled his sleeve down over his wound, picking his overshirt up off the back of his chair as he stood. "Yeah. I gotta get something out of my trunk."
Dean raised Baby's trunk up as he grabbed his weapons bag. He placed his sawed-off inside his shirt before grabbing the demon knife, salt rounds, a bandolier full of salt shells, and a few other items. He heard sounds of electricity surging mixed with a gust of heavy wind. He glanced over the open trunk to see a storm of black smoke rolling his way. He grabbed a leather pouch, shoving it into the bag before closing the trunk and rushing back inside the station. The others inside were finishing up placing the salt and devil's traps as he just inside. "They're coming!" he yelled. They gathered in the center of the lobby. He tossed a shotgun to Sam just as the wave of smoke began pounding on the doors. The Windows going black, all light from outside disappearing, leaving them in the dark. The only light the few feeble emergency lights. The building shook with the rumble of demons trying to find a way inside. Until there was silence. The moonlight once again shining through the windows.
"Everybody ok?" Sam asked.
"Define ok," Victor said.
Dean pulled the leather pouch from his duffle bag. "Ok everybody needs to put these on. They'll keep you from getting possessed." He said as he took out a necklace with pendants of the anti-possession symbol hanging from them. He handed one to each of them before moving to stand next to Sam.
"What about you and Sam?" Nancy asked, concern for their safety in her tone. In perfect unison, they pulled down the collars of their shirts to reveal their matching tattoos.
"Smart. How long you had those?" Victor asked.
Dean rubbed Sam's arm comfortingly as Sam seemed to stare off into nothing. "Not long enough," Sam said, clearing his throat. They all pulled the necklaces over their heads.
Dean watched as Victor ran a hand over the sheriff's nameplate on his desk. Guilt consumed him. Nancy was looking out the window when a small army of people walked up, eyes all black. "Hey, that's Jenna Rubner." She said, seeing her friend stepping to the front of the pack.
Sam came to stand next to her. "Not anymore." He replied, trying to count the bodies.
"That's where all that black smoke went?" She asked.
"Looks like." He replied. Phil was looking out a fogged window in the snack machine area. He stepped up, wiping the glass to peer outside, unknowingly breaking the salt line.
"Shotgun shells full of salt?" Victor said as he tossed one up in the air just to catch it in his palm.
"Whatever works," Dean replied to his question as he loaded his sawed off.
"Fighting off monsters with condiments," Victor said with a scoff. "Turns out demons are real." He added, throwing his tie down onto the desk.
"F.Y.I. Vampires are too. And ghosts, werewolves, changelings, evil clowns that eat people." Dean said as Victor eyed him.
"Ok then…" Victor said, placing shells into his bandolier.
"If it makes you feel better big foot's a hoax," Dean said with a smile.
"It doesn't," Victor tells him. Dean cocked the guns he'd been loading as he rose to stand next to Victor. "My job is boring. It's frustrating. I worked 15 years to nail a few guys and all the while something so big was just sitting there in the corner." He said with an apologetic tone.
"You didn't know," Dean said understandingly.
"What's out there. So, can you guys beat It? Can you win?" Victor asked.
Dean sighed. "Honestly…I think the world's gonna end bloody. Doesn't mean we shouldn't fight. We do have choices. I choose to go down swinging." Dean said with a smirk.
"Plus, you got nothing to go home to but your brother," Victor said.
Dean chuckled. If this guy only knew. "Yeah. What about you? Rockin the white picket fence?" Dean asked, trying to shift the conversation away from him and Sam.
"Mm-hm. Empty apartment, a string of angry ex-wives. I'm right where you are." Victor replied. They laughed together.
"Imagine that," Dean said. The sound of glass shattering drawing them out of their binding moment. The brother's and Victor burst into the snack room guns aimed.
"How do we kill her?" Victor asked. Sam and Dean lowered their weapons.
"We don't," Sam said.
"She's a demon!" Victor stated as Sam pushed the barrel of his gun down to aim at the floor.
"She's here to help." He said as he walked up to Regina.
"You gonna let me out?" She asked, breathing heavily. A small cut on her forehead was bleeding. Sam leaned down, scraping the spray paint to break the line. She stepped out, walking past them, glancing at Dean as she passed. "Dean." She said before stepping into the lobby. The others followed her after Sam fixed the trap as well as the salt line.
"How many of them are out there?" Dean asked her.
"I'd say 30 at least. So far." She said as she sat down in a chair, elegantly crossing her legs.
"Oh great. 30 hit men all gunning for us. Who sent them?" Dean asked.
She gave him a look that said 'really?'. "Lilith. She wants Sam dead. You too big boy. We'll need the colt. I got bullets for it." She said with a wink, tossing an ammo pouch to Dean.
The boy's hesitated. "It got stolen," Sam said. She eyed them. "I'm sorry, what?" She said.
"What do you mean me too?" Dean asked.
She was pacing the floor. "It's Lilith. She thinks if she takes out Sam she can send you to the pit ahead of schedule. Believes you will forgive her because she sees it as a way of helping you take the throne sooner." She said.
"Whoa. What did we miss?" Victor said, eyeing the Winchester's.
"Really, Dean? A hoard of demons at your doorstep and you didn't think to tell your new friends you're the only one that would be allowed to walk out of here alive?" She asked sarcastically.
"I'm not their fucking king. I don't want any of it." Dean barked.
"What's going on?" Victor yelled over at them.
Regina sauntered over to him, her red eyes staring at him. "Tell them, Dean."
Dean stared at the floor, shame in his voice. "Sam died…and I couldn't." He choked up slightly. Looking to Sam for strength. "I sold my soul for his life. And now…" He couldn't say it. Not to strangers.
"And now when Dean goes to hell he's coming back. With black eyes and stronger than all of us combined. Rex Inferorum." She said, the red glow of her eyes returning to brown.
Victor stared at Dean. "Rex Inferorum? What is that?" He asked.
"Latin. It means king of hell." Sam said, his eyes never leaving Dean's. "But I'm going to stop it. That's never going to happen." He said as a promise to Dean.
"Which brings us to the current situation. We need to put our plan into motion. Now!" Regina said looking from one Winchester to the other.
Dean was shaking his head. "No, not here." He said.
"Relax Dean. Give him some credit. I'm sure he's not going to jump your-"
Dean interrupted her. "That's private. Not here." He bellowed.
"Well, There's only one other way to get out of this. I know a spell. It'll vaporize every demon in a one-mile radius. Including me." She said.
Dean rose to his full height from the desk he was leaning against. "Ok, what do we have to do?" Sam said.
"Aww. At least one of you gives a shit about me. You can't do anything. The spell calls for a person of virtue. A virgin." She said.
Dean laughed. "Sweetheart nobody's a virgin." He stated as fact. Her eyes slowly drifted to Nancy, who was in the corner, not meeting their eyes. Dean gave her a surprised look. "No. No way. You're kidding me." He stumbled the words out.
"What? It's a choice." Nancy said in her defense.
"Wait…so y-you've n-never…not even once?" He said, slightly embarrassed. "I mean not even…wow." He said, giving her a proud look.
Regina rolled her eyes. "Surprised a cherry hound like you couldn't sniff her out." She said to Dean as her eyes drifted to Sam mockingly. "You've had quite a few in your day haven't you Dean? Poor things. Only one of them seemed to sink their claws in enough to keep you coming back ain't that right S- Ouch." Dean had kicked her in the calf to shut her up.
"The fuck is it with you demons? Why you always gotta bring it up?" He barked at her. Victor's eyes were darting back and forth. He was close to putting it together. The others seemed oblivious. Sam sighed.
"So, this spell? How can I help?" Nancy chimed in eagerly. Regina rose to stand in front of her. "You can hold still. While I carve your heart out of your chest." She said like it was nothing.
"Whoa! What are you doing?" Sam said as he advanced on her.
"I'm offering a solution."
"You're offering to kill somebody." He said, placing himself between them.
"What do you think's gonna happen when the demons get in?" She snapped at him.
"We're gonna protect her that's what." Victor chimed in.
"Very noble. Look you know why I'm loyal to you Dean and Sam comes with that, but you're all gonna die unless you make a choice." Regina said. Everyone started yelling except Dean.
Nancy quietly spoke up, "Excuse me," trying to be heard over them. "Would everybody please shut up!" Nancy screamed over them. The room fell silent. "All the people out there? Will they be ok?" She asked timidly.
Regina nodded. "It'll blow the demons out of their bodies. So, if their bodies are okay then yes."
Nancy gave a tearful nod. "I'll do it." Victor and Sam were yelling hell no. Dean remained silent.
"Dean, you know I'm right." She said to him. Sam eyed him, seeing that darkness once against showing its ugly face behind his emerald eyes.
"De…let it go. That's not you. We don't do this." Dean's eyes shifted to his. He said nothing.
"It's my choice," Nancy said.
"Stop! Everybody Stop!" Sam yelled. "Dean a word please?" He said as he gripped Dean by the front of his shirt to pull him into the hallway. "Please tell me you're not actually considering this. We're talking about holding that girl down and cutting out her heart." Sam questioned.
"I won't have you drinking her blood in front of all these people. And I'm not gonna let that demon kill some nice innocent girl who hasn't even been laid. So, what other choice is there?" Dean barked.
"I'm not saying I want to. We don't even know what's going to happen to me when I…when we start this. But it's the better option." Sam declared.
"I got a plan. I'm not saying it's a good one, or that it'll even work. But it sure as hell beats killing a virgin. And that other shit…that's private. We aren't putting our shit show on display for the world to judge us." Dean stated with finality.
"Ok, so what's the plan?" Sam asked with a nod of approval.
"We open the doors, let 'em all in. And we fight." Dean said.
Regina glared at the Winchester's while they explained their plan. Tapped her foot in aggravation while the group scurried about, setting everything into motion. Rolling her eyes as the boys stood before her in the lobby. Sharing a moment of understanding that they both may not make it through the night. Unable to perform their pre-hunt ritual of tender kisses. Settling for a brotherly hug that was lasting too long. "You mind letting me out of here?" She said with a tinge of venom.
"You're just gonna leave?" Questioned Sam.
"I was going to kill myself to help you win. I've blacklisted myself from all of my kind to help you save your brother from hell. I'm not going to stand here and watch you lose." She said, bitterness mixed with anguish in her voice. "I really tried for you, Dean. If you ever find me when you rise you might as well kill me. I won't watch you ruin everything you loved." She snarled.
Sam advanced on her. Dean reached out to stop him with a hand on his chest. "Why are you so obsessed with my brother? It's like you're hot for him or something." Sam spat.
"Sam let it go," Dean spoke calmly.
She laughed out loud with sarcasm. She stared at Sam with disgust. "Just let me out." She said with a fake smile.
"Why can't you just snap your fingers and fuck off?" Dean asked, coming to Sam's defense.
"If we can't get in we can't get out. Did you really think it didn't work both ways?" She snapped. They led her to the window shed snuck in from, breaking the trap along with the salt line, replacing it as soon as she'd crawled out. Looking up to hear her fingers snap. She disappeared into the night.
Everyone inside worked to break the warding at the doorways. All that remained was salt lines. Standing at the ready Dean yelled out to Sam across the station. "All set?" Sam's tenor sounded from across the hall.
"Let's do this!" Dean yelled. Sam, Dean, and Victor all simultaneously broke their salt lines. There was a moment of the calm before the storm as each of them backed away from the entrances. Shotguns raised, poised to defend. The first attack came at Victor. A Demon leaped in to swing from the door frame, landing a kick square to his face. He fell back, the force of the blow stunning him. He accidentally pulled the trigger, rock salt blasting out into the ceiling to miss its target.
Dean landed a shot in the shoulder of the first attacker, sending her falling to the floor. He was ready when the second came, taking it down before retreating further down the hallway. Sam landed a shot at the first, only to be taken from the side by a second. Victor was pinned to the wall by his assailant as more of them ran past him. He pulled a flask from his pocket, pouring holy water on its face to break free. Picking his gun up he bumped into something; he was back to back with Dean. They reloaded fast. Dean covered him by firing a shot over Victor's shoulder. "Go go go!" Dean gave the command.
Sam was being swarmed in the lobby. He fought back, landing swift punches to the two that tried to overpower him. All his sparing with Dean drills John had forced them to run coming out in battle. He was evenly matched.
As the last few demons entered the station, Phil and Nancy poked their heads out from their hiding place upon the roof. "When this is over, I'm gonna have so much sex." She said. He looked at her with shock. "But not with you." She added.
He chuckled. "Please, sweetie I call dibs on the tall one." He said with a wink. They shared a smile before moving into action, closing all the doors one by one to lay down fresh salt lines on the outside.
Four demons were now trying to take Sam down as more funneled into the lobby by Dean and Victor. He trashed them with holy water from a canteen. Dean was suddenly back to back with him. They were surrounded. He made a final attempt to hold them off. "I'm your king! I command you to stop." The demons shared glances of uncertainty. The one in Jenna's body jumped up onto a desk, flinging the Winchester's back pinning them to a wall with a flick of her wrist.
The others kneeled before them while she held them in place. "Rex Inforerum." They began chanting.
"Henrickson now!" Dean screamed.
Victor ran into the storeroom, throwing a demon off his back by slamming it into weapons cabinet. He reached out, slamming down the play button on a tape recorder rigged up to the station's intercom system. Sam's voice was heard over the speakers reciting the holy rite. The demons screeched in pain, their hands covering their ears. Outside Nancy was pouring salt at the foot of the final door when it burst open. The demon with its throat slit bursting out as she screamed. It looked at her hesitating for a split second before turning tail to escape. Phil rushed to her side, taking the salt bag to finish the line.
Inside the demons trashed, screaming in pain. Beating on the doors, unable to escape. A sea of black smoke funneled from their host's bodies, swirling around the ceilings. There was nowhere to go. The smoke collecting in the center of the lobby turned to a violent storm. Sam locked eyes with Dean. They tried with all their might to reach their hands out to each other. Fingers splayed open in need of the other. As Sam's recorded voice spoke the final verse the swirling mass burst into flame, burning out in a flash. The brothers fell to the floor panting. They groaned as the helped each other to their feet.
Victor stepped into the room. He wiped the blood from his lip before smiling at them. The lights came on as the people all around them began to stir looking around in utter confusion. Once the group had helped the citizens to their feet and out the door, Victor turned to the brothers. "I better call in. Hell of a story I won't be telling." He said.
Sam gave a look of concern. "So, what are you gonna tell them?" He asked hesitantly.
Victor smirked. "The least ridiculous lie I can come up within the next five minutes."
Dean scoffed. "Good luck with that. Not to pressure you or anything but what are you planning to do about us?" he said.
"I'm going to kill you," Victor said with a serious face. Dean gave him a look of surprise. "Sam and Dean Winchester were in the chopper when it caught fire. Nothing's left. Can't even identify them with dental records. Rest in peace guys." Victor stated with a nod. The boys gave him thankful smiles the mutual feeling of respect on all their faces. He shook hands with both of them before saying, "Now get outta here." The boys waved goodbye to Phil and Nancy before taking their leave.
Victor was sitting on the edge of one of the desks in the lobby. Mulling over where life would lead him now that he knew the truth of the world when he heard Nancy speaking. "Oh. Hey there." She said with a broad smile as she leaned on the broom in her hands.
A little girl stepped forward, letting go of her mother's hand. "Excuse me. I'm looking for two brothers. One's really tall, and one's really cute." The little girl said in a voice sweeter than sugar. Victor turned to glance at her over his shoulder.
Nancy gave a hearty chuckle. "What's your name sweetie?" She asked.
"Lilith." The girl replied in monotone as he eyes rolled back into her head, revealing blank white orbs. Victor barely had time to react, running around the corner of the desk, before the girl held her hand up as if to stop him. A blinding bright light burst forth from the girl as everything went black around him. The only sounds were agonizing screams. Followed by silence.
Sam woke to the sound of knocking on their motel door. He rolled over to sit on the edge of the bed. His eyes locked onto Dean's. The older man rose from his place at the small table to answer the door. Regina sauntered in with an angry expression. "Turn on the news." She said, arms folded across her chest.
Sam clicked the power button on the remote control. The static sound of the television sparking to life was heard before the voice of the reporter. "The community is still reeling from the tragedy that a struck just a few hours ago. Authorities believe a gas main ruptured, causing the massive explosion that ripped apart the police station and claimed the lives of everyone inside."
Dean sunk down onto the edge of the bed next to Sam. "Among the deceased, at least six officers and staff. Including sheriff Melvin Dodd, deputy Phil Amici, and Secretary Nancy Fitzgerald. As well as three F.B.I. agents identified as Steven Groves, Calvin Reidy, and Victor Henrickson. Two prisoners in custody were also killed." The boys wore faces of anguish.
Sam clicked the TV off. "Must have happened right after we left." He said so quietly it was almost a whisper.
"Considering the size of the blast, smart monies on Lilith," Regina said as she tossed them two velvet bags. They caught them one-handed.
"What's in these?" Dean asked.
"Something that will protect you." She replied. "I'm sorry. I know you tried to save everyone, but your plan was a bust. It turns out one of them got away. He led her straight to them. I know it sounds cold, but you can't win this battle thinking like hunters. It's time to make a move or stop wasting my time." She said. Placing her hands on her hips. Sam took in the sight of her. Her white Prada blouse clinging to her curvy figure, tight fitted matching pencil skirt, black leather stiletto pump tapping the floor. Its true, the devil does wear Prada. Sam hated her. But she was right.
"We're ready. But Dean has rules." He stated. She ran her fingers through her long dark hair.
"What are your terms?" She asked with a roll of her eyes. Dean tossed a canteen at her. She caught it clumsily, taken off guard. Stumbling on her pinpoint heels before pulling the edge of her skirt back down with a "Hm-mm." sound.
"Sam never drinks straight from you. You can put it in that. You're not allowed to be around when it happens. You share every vision that has one of us in it. And you always come when we summon you." Dean spoke with a dark sternness. He held out a small pocket knife for her.
She twisted the cap off the canteen, taking the knife. She slit her wrist, holding the lip of the bottle to her arm. Smirking at their mutually distasted looks, as the bottle filled. Her wound healing instantly as the red liquid rose to the top. She twisted the cap back on, tossing the canteen to Sam. "Start slow. Only one sip at a time. Don't succumb to the cravings by bingeing. You becoming addicted is a sign that the future path is being followed. Let Dean help you…" She paused before adding, "Curb your appetite." She gave a knowing wink before disappearing with a snap of her fingers. The pocket knife fell to the floor.
The Winchester's sat side by side on the bed in silence. One hand on each other's knee. "De, I'm nervous," Sam confessed.
Dean cleared his throat. "Me too baby boy. But whatever happens, I'm right here. We're in this together." Dean said with a warm smile. Sam twisted off the cap with a grievous sigh. Dean held his breath as Sam pressed the lip of the bottle to his lips. Sam tipped it up, letting a mouthful flow inside. He screwed the cap back on swallowing hard. "Ugh…" He gasped out. Trying not to gag at the coppery taste and thick texture.
Dean popped the caps off of two beers he'd been holding before handing one to Sam. They both guzzled them down. Sam let out a loud belch as Dean burst out laughing. "You gonna pull through there Sammy?" He joked.
Sam grimaced. "It tastes like hot garbage." He replied. They laughed together for a moment. Their eyes met in a deep gaze.
"You feel anything?" Dean hesitated to ask.
Sam shook his head. "No. Normal I guess. Kinda dirty." The older man sighed in relief before gently kissing Sam's forehead.
"Come on, let's get you a bath." He said as he gripped his little brother's hand to pull him to the bathroom.
Dean stirred in his sleep at the sound of giant wings flapping. He rolled from his back onto his side. Snaking his arm around Sam's waist, pulling his brother into his protective hold as he nuzzled into Sam's neck. Blissfully unaware of the two men standing at the foot of the bed. The shorter of the two, a handsome man with dark hair, vibrant blue eyes, dressed in a business suit, stared at the sleeping brothers with anguish. "Why Uriel? I don't understand. How could father allow this? He is to be the instrument of heaven." He said, though his lips did not move. His voice ringing inside his companion's skull like telepathy.
"It is not for us to question orders from our better's brother," Uriel replied.
The dark-haired man's head tilted to the side, gaze bearing down into the Winchester's. "This isn't what the scribe has written. This human is a righteous man." Blue eye's stated.
"The prophet has written it, so shall it be. They are yours to watch over now. Tread lightly, brother. Lest your wings meet the same fate as the one before you." Uriel spoke before disappearing with the sound of wings fluttering.
Blue eye's stared at them for what felt like hours. Trying to understand the path that had been prophesied. This human was a man without sin. The other was an abomination. How had the tables turned to lead one of the Lord's sheep into the pit to become a monster? This man was to save the world, not lead it to ruin. Dean woke from his sleep at the sound of wings fluttering. He pulled his colt from under his pillow, rising to aim. He looked around the room. Nothing was out of the ordinary. He stretched, giving a big yawn before snuggling back up to Sam. Drifting back to sleep.