"Come on Ruby," Sam said. "What do you have to lose? Rowena clearly doesn't care about you. She barely blinked before she left you with us. There's no reason to be such a loyalist now. Just tell me what she wants with my brother, and we can start negotiating your release."
Ruby snorted, "Save the good cop routine, Sam. It's boring."
After a brief struggle, Sam and Dean had gotten Ruby settled into the back room of the bunker. It was a dark, empty space that was completely soundproof and had every kind of demon warding known to man, lining its walls. On the floor in the middle of the room was a giant, red devil's trap with a chair set in it. Ruby sat there now, a perpetual scowl on her face, her wrists shackled with runed cuffs, similar to the ones Wyatt had been wearing when Sam had last seen him.
Wyatt. Sam's jaw clenched at the thought of the young witch. There was no time to lose in implementing Wyatt's rescue. After all, Sam knew exactly which part of the Underworld he was being held in. But, they had all decided, minus Piper, that it was important to at least attempt to get the whole story before they dove into another ambush.
Sam smirked right back at the she-demon, which apparently took her a little off-guard. "Do you know why I stick so closely to my good cop routine?"
Ruby's eyes narrowed, but she didn't reply.
"No? Huh, I thought you knew everything about me. The truth is, I never give up the good cop routine, because I don't have to. See, I have an overabundance of bad cop types in my life, and they do the dirty work for me."
As Sam said this, both Dean and Piper appeared out of opposite corners of the room. They walked toward Ruby like a lion stalking its prey, cold and calculating. It had been difficult to convince Piper that torture might be the only way to get any information out of Ruby, and Sam still wasn't sure she was completely convinced. But, she was angry. She wanted to get to her son as soon as she could, so she had come up with a few ideas of her own.
"Hit me with your best shot, Winchester," Ruby said to Dean. "I'll never talk."
"We'll see about that. Won't we Piper?" Dean said, walking behind the demon, and letting the witch step up to face her enemy.
Ruby laughed, "Oh please, what is this pansy, baby-loving, poser of a—Ah!"
The she-demon was cut off as Piper raised one hand and blew up the air directly above her right arm, causing Ruby to yell out in pain as a burn mark appeared on her forearm.
"That's about enough out of you, missy," Piper scolded. "The only thing I want to hear come out of your mouth, from now on, is the truth. Got it?"
"Ooh, you talk a big talk, but what are you going to do if I don't follow the rules of your little preschool class? I'm not a child, you can't scold me into submission—Agh!"
Another burn mark appeared, this time on Ruby's chest, and Piper stooped down until her face was inches from that of the she-demon. "Be. Quiet. Truthfully, I'm not one for violence, I like to avoid it when I can. But, you have messed with my family and my friends, and now I'm angry. So, we can do this the easy way, and you can tell me what you know about Rowena's plans for Dean and Chris, or I can burn you until you're nice and crispy, and then force a truth potion down your throat. Either way, you're going to give me the information I want."
Sam, continuing his role as the good cop, butted in, "We'll give you a little time to weigh your options here in the dark, but don't take too long. I think Piper might be a little anxious."
As the three of them walked away Piper flicked her fingers once more over her shoulder, smirking when Ruby cried out in pain. Sam gave the she-demon one last calculating look before sliding two layers of shelving back into place and closing the steel plated door to the back room, leaving her to contemplate her fate.
"Do you think she'll tell us what we want to know?" Piper asked.
"Never can tell, but you were pretty damn convincing in there, Halliwell," Dean said.
"Don't sound so surprised," Piper replied with a small smile. "We may have had a rough start with these black-eyed jerks, but demon fighting isn't only a Winchester specialty. It's our destiny to fight the supernatural crap that plagues this world, and now that we have our bearings, and a couple of allies, we're planning to come out on top."
"You got that right," a weak voice came from further down the hall.
Turning, Sam saw Paige coming toward them, a weak, but defiant looking Phoebe leaning on her for support. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his brother twitch, obviously wanting to go to her, but holding himself back. Sam wasn't sure what was happening, but clearly something about Phoebe's outburst had spooked Dean.
Piper walked brusquely over to her sisters. "How are you feeling, Phoebs?"
"Right as rain. I just want to get back on my feet and keep fighting. Did you get anything out of Ruby?"
Piper hesitated, unsure of how 'right' her sister really was, "Phoebe… How much do you remember of the fight at the manor?"
"I remember that bitch Rowena threatening us and talking to us like we're children. After that it's a little bit fuzzy. All I know is she pissed me off, and according to Paige we still don't have Wyatt, so I'm ready to kick some witchy ass."
Sam did his best not to burst out laughing as Phoebe spoke. Not because he didn't take her seriously, or think that she couldn't kick anyone's ass that she wanted to, but because as she said it, her head was lolling onto Paige's shoulder. Clearly she was still drained from her earlier output of energy.
"Uh huh," Piper nodded, "There's a little bit of that story missing, honey."
"What part?" Phoebe breathed.
"How about the part where you developed a new power, turned into a floating, screaming, banshee rage monster, and collapsed?"
Phoebe's head shot up.
"Yeah," Paige backed up her eldest sister, "It was not your most… composed moment."
"Why don't we get her back lying down?" Piper asked.
Sam and Dean had opened up three extra bedrooms in the bunker for the sisters. There were plenty of rooms in the old Men of Letter's headquarters that were never used. In fact, Sam was sure he hadn't been in some of them since the brothers had first moved in. Thankfully the sisters weren't picky about dusting off a few shelves, and waiting for the brothers to wash their beds' musty sheets.
They brought Phoebe back into her room, which was located between Dean and Piper's respective abodes. As she lay her head down, it was clear that she wasn't going to be conscious for much longer, but she wasn't going to sleep without answers.
"I have a new power?" she asked immediately, looking to Piper.
"I can't be sure, but it seems like the only explanation for your sudden burst of uncontrollable anger."
"So I can… What do you think I can do exactly?"
"You absorbed my anger," Dean said from the doorway, clearly keeping his distance from the witch. "When you were consoling me about Sam, I felt so calm all of a sudden, so normal. I knew something was wrong, but I chalked it up to…"
"To what?" Phoebe prompted.
Dean shook his head, "It's not important."
There was an awkward tension left hanging in the air, and Sam watched as Phoebe studied Dean's face. She looked at him with a mixture of confusion and longing, while Dean's eyes stayed trained primarily on the floor, embarrassed by whatever he had almost said.
"In any case," Piper said, breaking the silence, "I think Dean is right. Your empathic power is clearly expanding. Not only can you sense the emotional energy of others, but you can absorb it and convert that power into your own. It's not something I've ever heard of happening to an empath, but even the Elders say that your power is so beyond anything they've ever seen—"
"So I absorbed his anger, and then what?"
Piper was silent for a beat, "It ate you alive."
"It was just too much for you to handle right away," Paige said, attempting to soften her sister's blow. "Your power needs time to mature, and you need time to learn how to control it."
Phoebe was silent. She looked up at Dean again, pleading with him to look her in the eyes and give her some kind of comfort. Dean continued to look at the floor, his expression serene, but his eyes burning with anger.
Sam, sensing the tension in the room between both lovers and sisters, attempted to change the subject. "Why don't you lay down and rest for a little while Phoebs? We'll let you know if Ruby gives us any useful information. I think we're going to need you and your new power to take Rowena down, no matter what she's planning." He winked at the witch, and she smiled gratefully.
"Who knows," Phoebe said, settling down into her pillows, "With a little practice, absorbing Dean's anger could be a benefit not only to our cause, but to his as well."
Phoebe didn't have time to feel the tension heighten in the room in response to her words, because just as soon as she was settled into her mattress, she was asleep. Sam looked from Piper to Dean and knew that there was plenty of guilt and blame to be doled out, but he also knew that now was not the time for negativity. They needed to be united to face the coming storm.
Clearing his throat, Sam attempted to change the subject, "Why don't we go into the other room and talk about exactly what I saw in the underworld?"
"Sounds good," Paige agreed after a few seconds of silence that contained minimal eye-contact and little to no movement. When Dean and Piper both conceded and exited the room, Sam silently thanked the witch with a smile. Instead of responding with a smile of her own, Paige shifted her eyes away from him and proceeded to the door. Quickly Sam followed, rushing to close the door to Phoebe's room in order to catch the youngest Halliwell by the hand.
"Hey, is everything okay?" he asked her.
She sighed, and he knew immediately what was going to come next. "It's just… I'm trying to be okay with all of this, with my newest charge jetting off with some angel on a dangerous hunting trip, with my sister developing new powers, with your brother being inherently evil, however magically induced said evil may be. I'm doing my best to process everything about Rowena, and Ruby…"
"Paige—"
"I just didn't realize how easy it would be for her to influence your emotions again. One paper cut and you're…"
"She isn't going to get to me."
"You were pretty willing back at the manor, with your 'I'd go through twenty withdrawals' and all of that macho bravado."
"I just meant I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get Wyatt back!"
"Is that really what you meant? I know how addiction works. I've had alcoholic friends. When you're addicted to something, no matter how horrible it is for you, you'll do whatever you can to get your hands on it. People trying to stay clean don't usually bring their drug of choice into their home, or keep it locked up in a nearby room."
"Paige, she's leverage. There was no other motivation behind bringing her here, you have to believe me."
"Do I? Sam, I barely know you. We have some kind of connection, I'll admit that, and I care about you, but your past is hard to get past. I don't know you well enough to know your intentions."
"I don't buy that, Paige. You know that I care about Chris and Wyatt immensely, but if you doubt that, you have to know that I have done my best for my entire life to work on the side of good, just like you and your sisters. People and circumstances have sometimes gotten in my way, that's true, but my first priority is and will always be to saving people from the monsters of this world."
Paige was quiet, and hoping she wouldn't recoil from his touch Sam stepped toward her and placed a hand on her cheek. "Don't run away from this just because you're scared, please. It has been a long time since I've felt this way about anyone. I certainly never felt anything this genuine toward Ruby. I know I'm a lot to take in, but I'm an open book. Don't shut me out."
Taking a couple steps back, Paige exhaled, as if she'd been holding her breath in reaction to his proximity. For the first time since they had arrived at the bunker she looked Sam square in the eyes, but before she could say anything in reply, Dean's voice echoed down the hall.
"Hey! Quit smooching and get in here, this case is kind of time-sensitive don't you think?"
Sam shot his brother a glare, as Paige turned and walked away. He followed her into the bunker's main room. Piper stood in the middle of the open space, arms crossed, "Nice of you two to join us."
"Sorry," Paige replied, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes down.
Piper frowned, but didn't remark on Paige's strange behavior. Instead she turned to Sam, "Tell us what you know. Why was it so important we leave the manor?"
"When Ruby took Wyatt and me to the Underworld she locked us in a cell in the corner of a pretty large cave," Sam began. "In the middle of the cave there was a large cauldron, and at first I thought it probably belonged to Rowena, but I was wrong. Another woman walked in with her, acting like she owned the joint, and as it turns out that part of the Underworld does actually belong to her. After straining for some time to hear their conversation, I found out that she's something called a Seer."
Paige and Piper both gasped audibly, and Sam knew he had hit a nerve. "What do you know?" he asked.
"We've encountered a Seer before," Piper replied, doing her best not to dwell on those memories. "She and Phoebe were once… close, though this is most definitely not the same one."
"There's more than one?" Dean asked.
"We've known three or four. All seers are vastly different, with powers ranging from pyrokenesis to teleportation to resurrection, and everything in between. The only powers they generally have in common are immortality and premonition, though the future comes to them in many different ways. It sounds like this one uses a pool to scry into the future."
"Like Kyra," Paige said.
Piper nodded.
"She was using it to see the future," Sam said, "To the exact time that you were rallying forces against Rowena. That's why all of the demons have been appearing at such strategic moments, like when we're discussing them, or when they knew we would be taken off guard. It's like they know right when to show up because they literally do. This Seer can tell Rowena exactly when to strike. That's why I knew we needed to get somewhere warded, at least to figure out our next move. This Seer won't be able to scry for us here."
In an instant a panicked look crossed Piper's face, "So you're telling me that my five-year-old is down in the Underworld with a demon whose power appears to be failing her? Do you know how pissed she's going to be? What's to say she's not going to take out her frustrations on him?"
"Piper, don't panic, she needs him alive," Dean tried, but Piper was already in a frenzy that there was no coming back from.
"No. No way. Paige we're going back, come on. We need the Book of Shadows, some vanquishing potions and one ticket to the Underworld, stat."
"Piper—" Sam started.
"We can ward the house with spells, place crystals, she's not getting her foresight anywhere near my home. Now that we know exactly what we're dealing with, Paige and I can work it out."
"What about Phoebe? And Ruby, we can't just leave her here!"
Piper considered this for a moment. Could they fight this seer without the Power of Three? She wasn't sure, but she did know that her son was alone, fighting for his life, and she couldn't just stand by and let that happen.
"I'll stay with them," Dean said suddenly.
"Dean…" Sam hesitated, and his brother interrupted him before he could continue.
"Sammy, let me do this. It'll be good to get you away from Ruby, meanwhile I'll keep pumping her for information. Not to mention it's probably not a good idea for me to go anywhere near Rowena or her lackeys anytime soon, what with the whole her wanting me for a prisoner and all. I'll be safer here."
"And Phoebe?" Paige asked.
Dean sighed, "I'll look after her, but I'll keep my distance. There will be no repeats of what happened during our last fight, trust me."
The sisters exchanged a look that apparently meant they agreed that this was a good idea, because afterward they simply grabbed hands and motioned for his brother to join them. Sam, on the other hand, did not look so convinced.
"Dean are you sure you can handle yourself? I can stay—"
"No, look, they're going to need all of the help they can get, and you're the only person that can get them to the right part of the Underworld, anyway. I'll be fine, Sammy. Go save the kid."
Sam nodded, looking at his big brother like he was making some huge sacrifice, when in actuality, Dean felt like he was taking the easy way out. Babysitting a witch and torturing a demon who he hated with every part of his being wasn't exactly fighting the good fight, but he knew it was necessary. And anyway, he had grand plans for Ruby that he didn't need Sammy around to witness.
He watched as his brother and the sisters shimmered out of view, and then marched over to a supply closet that the two of them always kept locked. Inside was a safe with many precious supernatural items in it, some that the Men of Letters had collected over centuries, and some more recently added by Sam and Dean themselves. Off to the side was a mini fridge, and inside it were two large, plastic containers, like the ones restaurants used to empty their grease traps at the end of the night. But, instead of grease, they were filled almost entirely with blood, one for Sam, and one for Dean. Blood was used so often in rituals, that keeping a store of it on hand was useful. Rather than cutting open a hand or a forearm each time a spell or summoning called for it, they could use the stuff they had been setting aside for months at a time. It had been Sam's idea, and much as Dean hated to admit it, it was one of his better ones.
Lifting the container that held his blood out of the fridge, and relocking the storeroom behind him, he made his way back to Ruby. After grabbing a package of syringes from the shelves that acted as a fourth wall to the prison chamber, he slid them aside, revealing Ruby slumped over in the middle of a devil's trap, just as they had left her. Her head lifted, and Dean could see that a faint smirk still remained on her face, but not for long.
"Ruby, Ruby, Ruby…" he said, plopping the container of blood down in front of her, "How about a taste of your own medicine?"
Chris materialized exactly where he had planned, which was truly a surprise, considering that time portals could be extremely temperamental. He was about as likely to end up halfway across the country in this time, as he was to end up in the same place he had just been in his own time. But then, he had a lot of practice with these sorts of things. The manor attic looked nearly the same as he had left it, and he had to marvel for a moment at how little it had changed.
In the middle of the room sat a table, filled with vials and potion ingredients, and off to the side was the podium where the Book of Shadows sat, though it was a bit thinner than he remembered. Boxes lined the walls, filled with old clothes, family heirlooms, and things that probably should have been given away years ago, but instead, due to lack of time and an abundance of demonic distractions, they had simply piled up. Many of the boxes he saw here, were still in the attic in his time, and he made a note to self that if and when he got back there, he and Melinda needed to go through them immediately.
Sun streamed through the stained glass window that Chris had watched his father reassemble after countless battles in the attic, and for a moment he sat there reveling in the light, feeling it's warmth on his face. It had been a long time since he had felt the sun's glow. Then, reality set in. He was back, in a time when his family was alive, and he needed to stop the impending apocalypse. There was no time to lose. Leaving the attic, he realized that the house was extremely quiet. Upon further inspection he realized that the house was completely devoid of people.
Unsure of what to do next, Chris wandered into the kitchen and opened the fridge. His eyes widened at the spread before him. Clearly, his mom had been stress cooking, because the fridge and freezer were both filled to the brim with food. He spied an entire pecan pie buried under a mountain of various baked goods, and felt his mouth water. Hard as Melinda had tried, she was nowhere near the cook his mother had been, and he had dreamed about this very pie on more than one occasion. Grabbing a fork, he made himself at home at the kitchen table, devouring the pie and then a plateful of his mother's famous garlic roasted chicken. He was about to start in on a container of cheesy potato casserole when he suddenly heard some voices coming from the living room.
At first none of them sounded familiar, putting Chris on the defensive. He knew what his aunts and parents had been up against at this point in time, and he also knew they tended to come and go as they deemed fit. Grabbing his lucky angel blade out of his inside coat pocket, the familiar weight it bore against his chest was temporarily relieved. He crept over to the door that led into the dining room to take a closer listen.
"It doesn't appear that anyone is home," a monotone male voice, completely unfamiliar to Chris, stated.
"I hope everyone is alright," a soft female voice replied, and though her voice triggered something in his mind, but he couldn't put a finger on exactly where it fit into his memory.
"I'm sure they're fine," someone else replied. Chris felt his heart stop. This was a voice he knew that he could never mistake. His suspicions were only confirmed as that voice continued, "They probably got a lead on Rowena. Maybe I should try sensing for them."
Taking a deep breath, Chris tucked his angel blade away and pushed through the door, finding himself face to face with three people standing in the foyer. One of them, the one with the voice he had not recognized at all, was a tall, dark man in a trench coat. He was standing next to a petite, curvy blonde, and for Chris, seeing her confirmed that at some point he had known her, though he still could not place the memory in context. Lastly, standing across from the others, with his back to Chris, was the person whose voice he knew almost as well as his own. The voice that belonged to his father, Leo Wyatt.
The two strangers froze, and Leo sensed the change in their demeanor. Chris held his breath as his father turned to face him, afraid that once their eyes met he'd wake up from another one of his insanely vivid dreams.
"Chris?" his father exhaled, his eyes widening beyond measure.
"Hey Dad," he said, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and turning his gaze to the floor shyly. For a moment the two of them just stood there, Chris barely making eye contact with his father. Then, at lightning speed, Leo moved to take Chris into his arms, hugging his son tightly to him. Chris did everything he could not to choke up as he held onto his Dad. They had always had a complicated relationship, and while it may have only been a few years since his father had last seen him, or at least the non-toddler version of him, it had been much longer than that for Chris. In this moment, Chris felt as though he should never let go, that if they could just stay here in this embrace, the future would work itself out.
Then, the moment passed. Chris and Leo took a step back, each of them still marveling at the sight of the other. "What are you doing here?" Leo asked finally.
Chris swallowed, "Uh, it's a long story. Where's mom?"
"I don't know. We've been on our own mission for a while, I haven't been in contact with her or your aunts. I expected her to be here myself."
"Hang on," the familiar blonde chimed in, "Who is this?" She looked confused and astonished all at once, and Chris couldn't help but notice the cute way her forehead wrinkled up at the sight of the two of them.
"Leila, Castiel, this is Chris, my son."
"Is this the same Chris that appeared to Sam as a toddler a few weeks ago?" Castiel asked, trying to understand.
"He's from the future," Leila said, her gaze concentrated on his face, like she was trying to see into him. "Piper said that he had come back once, to help Wyatt."
"That's right," Leo replied. "Chris this is Leila. She's a hunter and a future whitelighter, one of Paige's charges, not to mention a good friend."
Leila smiled a sweet, but surprised smile at Leo's mention of their friendship, leading Chris to believe that they hadn't known each other for very long. He extended a hand to her. She took it and said, "It's really incredible to meet you, Chris, though technically we've already met."
"It's nice to meet you too," he said, flushing slightly at the feeling of her hand in his, and the realization that perhaps she was familiar because he had met her as a child. That would certainly explain why he couldn't quite place the memory of her.
"And this," Leo continued, moving on to the dark-haired man, "Is Castiel. He is an angel, and also someone that I'm glad to call a friend."
"Hello Chris," Castiel said.
"Hi," Chris replied, quickly turning to his father, "He's a…"
"An angel, yes."
"Like with wings and a halo, and created by God? Like that kind of an angel?" he asked incredulously.
"We actually don't have halos in the way humans picture them. They manifest as more of a blinding, effervescent light that emanates from the very core of our celestial being than a little ring around our heads," Castiel interjected, his long-winded explanation causing Leila to giggle. "But, everything else you said is relatively accurate."
Chris took a deep breath, taking in Castiel's words, "I'm sorry, I know you existed once it's just…"
"It's just what, Chris?" Leo asked, sensing an air of distress in his son's voice.
"Just… in my time, your kind is extinct."
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this update! Thank you for reading! And, as always, PLEASE REVIEW. I love feedback! I have some really exciting ideas coming up in this fic, and input from readers never goes amiss! I cannot wait to get to work on the next few chapters, and with winter break coming up... expect more story!
XOXO, AryaUnderfoot