July 8, 2006
I never knew. I never knew that everything was falling through. That everyone I knew was waiting on a cue to turn and run…
Sam slid the alarm off as he stared blearily at the ceiling. It was 7:30, and there was another day ahead of training. He'd managed to get a sabbatical for a few months to recover (mentally and physically) from his apparent kidnapping, and he and Dean had scheduled for most of the time to be spent at Bobby's. Obviously they were home on the weekends to be with Mom and Dad (who begrudgingly agreed to their time at a 'health spa' to help Sam recover), but aside from that the two brothers lived in the guest room in the blue house that Dean had once described as "A ramshackle approximation of every horror movie cliché mixed with a before picture from Extreme Home Makeover".
Dean always got up around six, his physical fitness regiment necessitating that he was up early. Sam didn't exactly hate exercise, per say-after all he had been on the soccer and track teams in high school-but he didn't focus on it as much as Dean. With Bobby's training, however, it became evident that the normally sedentary Sam would be required to engage in physical fitness to get him up to fighting standards-Even with the freaky new power I accidentally discovered and have no fucking idea how to control.
Sam got dressed-slipping into a comfortable pair of shorts, a t-shirt, and a pair of worn Nike sneakers-and walked out of the brothers' bedroom. He could hear Dean and Bobby downstairs as he plodded across the floor and descended to the main level.
"Good morning sunshine!" Dean joked as Sam grabbed the coffee pot sitting on the counter.
" 'morning." Sam yawned as he poured himself a cup.
Bobby nodded at Sam, he too was sporting an impressive set of bags under his eyes, "Well Sam I did a bit of research-and while Dean hasn't stopped pestering me-I figured you should be here too when I discuss what I found."
Sam's ears perked up at that, "Did you find something about the telekinesis?"
"Not quite…" Bobby pulled out a worn green notebook, "But I did find something similar."
"Well, come on with it!" Dean tried glancing over Bobby's shoulder at the notebook.
"Mind your business, ya idjit!" He slapped Dean with the notebook, "I'm getting there, and I prefer not to have my personal notes scrutinized. Patience is a virtue after all."
"Fine." Dean muttered as Sam stifled a snort.
Bobby flipped open the notebook, "There is a case from the eleventh century about a girl who was pledged to be married to a wicked man, she made a deal with a demon to kill her future husband. In return the demon would get her first child. She agreed and the husband-to-be bit it. A few years later the girl got married and tried to renege on the demon's deal, now that her child would be with a man she loved. The demon vowed he would return, and on the six month anniversary of the child's birth he entered the baby's room and had it drink his blood. The father saw this, and the demon killed him before attempting to burn down the house with the child in it."
"This is sounding uncomfortably familiar." Dean glanced at Sam, "Bobby, our house burned down when Sammy was six months old and killed both our parents. Do you think that's what happened?"
Bobby's brow shot upward, "God I hope not, because if so there's a bit more to the story than I wanted to share."
"What do you mean, 'more'?" Sam nervously glanced at his wrist, well aware of the blood running through his veins not entirely being his own.
"Well…" Bobby cleared his throat, "I was just going to mention how the child grew up to have power and consumed the blood of demons to gain a frightening reputation…"
"Consumed the blood of demons?!" Sam shouted, horrified.
"Which you aren't going to do." Bobby stated firmly, "But if it turns out that it's the same demon we have some more serious problems."
"How serious?" Dean instinctively stepped in front of Sam.
Bobby nervously flipped the page in his notebook, "If it was in fact Azazel we have a problem. While his plan failed in the past it was mainly due to the instability of his choices. Middle Age British monarchy weren't exactly a mentally sound group, and after the vessel decided to off his nobles he killed his son-who would've likely been the choice for the one to fight him."
"I need some context here Bobby." Dean growled, growing ever more anxious.
"Azazel is an immensely powerful demon, to the point where no one who has seen him has survived. He is likely second in command to Lucifer and aims to release his master and unleash Hell on earth. The story-which I might remind you, is partially a Welsh folktale-asserts that he tried to mark a human as a vessel for his master, so that when he is able to escape he would be able to take over the world."
"Holy shit." Sam sat down, No, no, no, no, no…
"Yeah, and the crazy thing is that some believe that there has to be some cosmic scale duel between him and some ultimate good to determine the fate of the world."
"Bobby you're literally talking Revelations end of the world shit, 'And I saw an angel coming down out of heaven, having the key to the Abyss and holding in his hand a great chain.He seized the dragon, that ancient serpent, who is the devil, or Satan, and bound him for a thousand years. He threw him into the Abyss, and locked and sealed it over him, to keep him from deceiving the nations anymore until the thousand years were ended. After that, he must be set free for a short time.' That's end-of-days, Armageddon type stuff." Dean anxiously turned to Sam, "My brother is not going to be the vessel for some demon!"
"Technically Lucifer is a fallen angel." Sam numbly muttered, gazing at his hands, "Morningstar used to be an angel before he was cast out of heaven for his pride."
"Either way, I am NOT letting that happen!"
"Calm down! I'm not saying we are, what I am saying is that if Azazel did decide to try again in preparation for his boss' 1,000 year timer ending, it makes sense he cast a wider pool to choose from, one of whom was Sam. But seeing as Sam isn't currently being groomed as a vessel for the head-honcho of Hades, I think Azazel chose someone else."
"R.J." Sam replied.
"Most likely."
"So what do we do? We can't let some punk from Jersey unleash hell on earth!" Dean turned to Sam, "And what about Sammy? Is he supposed to fight this guy as some force of good?"
"Look boys, I don't know. There's not really any other information. As best I can guess Azazel is going to somehow try to release his boss so he can possess R.J. and get ready for the confrontation."
"So, what, we have to stop him."
"And how exactly can we do that?" Sam panicked, "Dean, I have no idea how to do anything with these cursed powers, and considering that there's a chance that the devil-the actual fucking devil-might want me as a meatsuit…" He started hyperventilating.
Dean calmly placed his hand on Dean's shoulder and locked eyes with his brother, "Before you got up Bobby was telling me about a few of the other hunters he works with. One of them is a group of four people about our age. They're two couples, and the one is a guy named Norv and his girlfriend V. Norv is a skinwalker, he can change into a dog. Bobby's basically the only person who knows because if other hunters got wind they'd ice him. But guess what, Norv still fights the same SOBs that the rest take on, and he and V have one of the highest success rates out of any hunters out there. He knows he's a monster, but it doesn't stop him. He's not evil because of what he is; he chooses to do go with what he's got."
Bobby nodded, "He actually saved a few kids from a burning building while on a case because of his nature. He changed into a dog and pulled a toddler and his baby sister out of their house."
"What you are doesn't make you evil. Acting evil makes you evil."
Sam put his head down in shame, "But who's to say I won't start acting evil? I'm part demon, it could just happen and I'd have no idea how to stop it."
"Sammy, I've known you my entire life. The most evil thing you've ever done was put chocolate pudding in Marissa Johnson's hair in third grade-and you immediately starting crying about it and spent two hours in confessional because you thought you'd go to hell because of a dessert." Dean lifted his brother's head, "You've gotta stop hating yourself. You're not gonna pull an Anakin. Come on, man."
Sam smiled weakly, "Thanks Dean." He embraced his brother, who begrudgingly agreed and patted his back for a few second before attempting to wriggle free.
"So, given that we know Sam isn't going to be drinking demon blood, how exactly are we going to help him with his powers in case he does end up being the one to take on the forces of evil?"
"Well, normally powers like this-when not inherited from demon blood-can be trained using meditation and self-reflection." Bobby looked at Dean's withering look, "Look, I know it sounds like new-age crap, but I don't exactly have a ton of experience with this specific situation."
"In any case, considering how you feel about yourself, I think some positive self reflection might be in order." Dean paused, "Even if it does sound like the kind of thing a person into crystals and dream-catchers would suggest."
"Good. After breakfast you two can do some sibling bonding or whatever while I try to get some more specifics on what exactly Azazel might be up to. Because, honestly, if it is him 'Biblical' might be an understatement of what we're up against."
"Great." Sam sighed as he wearily looked at his brother.
"Well, let's just eat for now and then try to turn ourselves into pretzels-" Dean glanced at Sam, "-because I have a sinking suspicion we're going to have to do some yoga."
Hey! Quick message from the author here. Just wanted to wish everyone a Merry Christmas (or whatever it is you celebrate)! I promise some more good stuff is coming up soon, the next few months are going to be intense for our brothers!
