Chapter 4: At the End of Days
When the static in Van Helsing's head cleared, he found himself standing in the middle of a crowded city street. Instinctively, his hand went under his coat to the butt of his pistol, every muscle in his body tensing as he prepared for the expected backlash. But instead, it seemed as if no one had even noticed that he stood there. A hand dropped onto his shoulder and Van Helsing whipped around, the barrel of one pistol jabbing hard into Sam's chest.
"Easy there! Mind the gun," Sam said, pushing the weapon away with a finger. "You'll put someone's eye out with that thing."
Growling, Van Helsing put the gun away. "Where are we?" He'd come to the conclusion long ago that Sam was not human. What he was exactly, though... that was something he didn't have an answer for. The apparent teleportation only helped drive home the fact.
"Barcelona!" Sam said, spreading his arms and turning in a circle with a pleased sigh. "Isn't Spain wonderful? I love these Mediterranean countries."
"You said you wanted to talk, so start talking," Van Helsing snapped. The sooner he got this over with the better. Sam's peculiar aura was starting to make him feel ill. Sam raised one pale eyebrow at Van Helsing and produced a stick of dark chalk from his pocket. Crouching down, he began to draw a series of complex lines and circles on the cobblestone ground. Van Helsing furrowed his brow, his unease growing with each mark Sam made. Finally, the young man stood up and brushed his hands off.
"There. Do you recognize that?" he asked, pointing down to the string of marks.
"It's ... it's ..." Van Helsing struggled to grasp their meaning. It was a word; he knew that much and it's meaning was practically screaming at the back of his mind. He should know it, Goddamnit, what was it? He pressed a hand against the side of his head, feeling a horrible ache coming on. Sam slid up next to him, wrapping an arm around Van Helsing's shoulders and coaxing him on softly.
"It's your name, Gabriel."
Benito glanced over to where Luis was entertaining Isabel by picking wildflowers with her. Van Helsing had been gone some time and he was beginning to wonder what the man's idea of "not long" was exactly.
"Isabel, Luis, we're going home now," he called to the two finally, turning his horse around. Isabel was at his side a moment later, her small hands griping her grandfather's pant leg. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading.
"We can't go yet! Señor Helsing isn't back!" she begged, tugging on his pants. He shook her off, frowning. The child still had a lot of growing up to do, but he didn't blame her. It was the way of the young. He gave her a look that she knew better to question and sent her to Luis' horse, her feet dragging the whole way. Luis hefted her up and set her in front of him in the saddle. As they road off, Isabel craned her head to cast a last glance to where Van Helsing's horse still stood tied to a tree.
"Papa..." she complained as Luis' horse came into stride with Benito's.
He shushed her sharply. "Señor Helsing is a grown man, Isabel. He will find his way back when he's done with whatever it is he is doing. Have you forgotten that you and Luis still have chores to do?"
Isabel crossed her arms and made a face.
"I'll come back later this evening if he hasn't returned," Benito sighed, unable to resist his granddaughter in such a mood. "Will that make you feel better?" She nodded a little, but still seemed upset. Benito knew he could do little to help her spirits, but he trusted that Van Helsing was in capable hands.
"My name?" Van Helsing ground the words out around clenched teeth, trying to keep from throwing up on the spot. It was because Sam was so close... the man made Van Helsing's stomach churn. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He shoved Sam away violently, staggering back a step and pressing a hand to his mouth as his stomach threatened to rebel.
"Gabriel... Gabriel... what's wrong? Are you ill? Perhaps you need some time to properly digest this information. Shall I take us somewhere else?" Sam said, his voice so terribly friendly. Van Helsing couldn't think straight again. He had to get away... no, he had to fight, but not here. Not with all the people around.
"Stay... stay away from me," he gasped, trying to find a single clear thought in his head and failing. Sam made a sound not unlike a mother trying to comfort a child.
"But we have so much to talk about, Gabriel," he practically purred, inching his way closer. "You just need to sit down and rest for a while. Wouldn't you like to rest? You'll feel much better afterwards and then we can continue our conversation."
He was up next to Van Helsing again and all rational thought took flight. Sitting down and resting sounded like a very good idea. He was tired, after all. It felt as if he had been running around forever without a rest. Going here... going there... never stopping. Do this, do that. He opened his mouth to say something at the exact moment that he dropped his arms to his side. Something fell into his hand. Before Van Helsing could properly register what he was doing, his fingers had wrapped around the hilt of his Tojo blade, cranking the gears and lashing out at Sam. The cruel buzz saw blades found their mark in flesh and bone, biting into Sam's ribs with a sickening crunch. Blood was everywhere and a second later it seemed as if the world around them had suddenly snapped back to reality. Sam's body hit the pavement, lifeless and then the screaming started. It seemed as if all of Barcelona shrieked at once and everyone seemed to want to run in a different direction. Bodies slammed into Van Helsing and he could see people tripping over Sam's corpse as they desperately tried to run away. He was buffeted from all sides, hands grabbing as they passed and feet trampling over anything that got in their way as the whole crowd panicked.
He screamed, bellowed for a clear path and surged into the mob, pushing forward even as those sane enough to realize what had happened tried to stop him. He shook them off, overpowering them in his desperation to flee. He glanced back once and saw, for a split second, the marks on the pavement, half scuffed away and covered in blood. His name...
He stuffed a hand into his coat, finding the grapple gun kept there and pointed it towards the rooftops. It shot off and a second later he was yanked free of the suffocating mob and rocketed skyward. The world spun around him and he tumbled onto a roof, rolling several times before coming to a stop against the opposite edge. He scrambled to his feet even as he shook the tether loose and set the grapple gun to retract the line all the way.
Below him in the street, he could see fingers pointing his way and voices raised above the others. He gulped down several calming breaths and took off across the rooftops. If he was lucky he could vanish before they brought the rifles to bear on him.
Van Helsing could hear feet pounding the pavement outside the empty shack he had discovered on the outskirts of Barcelona. Several times men had stuck their heads in to check, but they hadn't seen him crouching in a corner of the decaying rafters. It was a miracle they hadn't given out yet. This wasn't like him, but he couldn't shake the feeling that had come over him when Sam had told him those marks were his name. For some reason, it seemed that that simple fact was the single most important thing in the world and he couldn't figure out why. He was almost ready to admit that, for the first time he could remember, he was honestly terrified.
Eventually, the sounds of the searches died away outside and were replaced by the gentle ambience of the city. Van Helsing carefully unfolded himself from his hiding spot, his joints stiff from his time spent holding still. Grunting, he dropped to the ground and winced at the pins-and-needles feeling that shot up both legs. He stretched them out briefly and slunk out of the shack, still on guard. Thankfully the streets were empty and he slipped out unnoticed.
It was difficult moving about the city unnoticed, but there was one last thing Van Helsing had to do before he could leave Barcelona: he had to find a horse. Finding a stable was slow and tedious work; it was bad enough he didn't know the layout of the city, but trying to navigate it without being seen was even worse. There were several close calls and more than once he thought that he'd have to go looking for another hiding place, but he did eventually make it to a small stable safely.
It was simple enough finding a suitable horse with the stable hand asleep at the other end of the building and for the sake of urgency, Van Helsing bypassed the various tack for the animal and simply lead it out by the rope that had previously been keeping it tied in its pen. It had been quite some time since he had ridden bareback, but he didn't have much of a choice at the moment. As soon as he was clear of the stable, he swung up onto the horse and took off at a gallop out of Barcelona, the shouts of police at his back.
The sun was just beginning to set when Van Helsing's horse suddenly bucked wildly and collapsed under him, sending him tumbling across the grass. When he righted himself, he saw the horse laying motionless several yards away, as if it had dropped dead on the spot. Glancing around, all he could see was grass, a few trees and a lot of sky. No sign of anyone else or any kind of civilization.
When the static started in his head, his heart just about dropped into his stomach. No, he was dead! Van Helsing leapt to his feet, his sword singing as it left the sheath and when he turned he saw Sam, as expected, standing some distance away, his hands clasped behind his back. The young man looked none the worse for wear; even his clothes were immaculate. He unfolded his hands to reveal a saber in his hand.
"Honestly, Gabriel, you're so quick to lash out. Was that really necessary?" Sam said, his tone even. He let out a heavy sigh. "All you had to do was talk with me for a little while and you went and made a scene instead. Now I know why you had your memories taken away from you. You're so ... impulsive!"
Van Helsing forced his breathing into a steady rhythm, focusing his eyes on Sam's face. He had to keep a clear head. "Who are you?" he demanded, finally fed up with all of Sam's half veiled remarks. "How do you know me?"
Sam's expression fell into a disappointed frown. "You had your chance to ask questions and you gave it up! For this!" He lifted his shirt. Under the fabric was a disgusting gash, large enough for Van Helsing to easily identify the various bits of gore that were hanging out. Sam let his shirt drop and it was as if the wound had never been there. Van Helsing shook his head and blinked.
"Now..." Sam began, practically strolling towards Van Helsing, "now it is time for action, although I don't see how this will be much of a challenge. You're just a shell of your former self, Gabriel. I would have loved to fight you as you were, but I suppose that's just not going to happen. Life is full of disappointments. Wouldn't you agree?"
Van Helsing didn't answer. He didn't need to, because something told him Sam didn't expect one. The strange young man stopped a few paces from Van Helsing, his rapier held out in an opening stance.
"We had high hopes for you, Gabriel. Really we did. It's a shame it has to end this way," Sam said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. Van Helsing simply snarled and lunged into action. He had hoped to catch Sam off guard with the sudden attack, but the man seemed perpetually on his toes and danced out of the way, his rapier coming down across Van Helsing's back. Van Helsing turned, catching Sam's next blow between the still edges of a Tojo blade. He twisted Sam's sword away, stepping forward and leading with his own weapon. Sam pivoted to one side, but the blade still sliced through his side. The wound smoked and Sam hissed through his teeth.
"Is that a holy blade, Gabriel? Oh, that's cheating," he growled, spinning on the balls of his feet and slamming an elbow into Van Helsing's temple. He staggered backwards, his vision swimming, but remained on his feet. Sam closed the distance in a single long-legged stride and swung the hilt of his blade towards Van Helsing's shoulder. The blow was halted as Van Helsing brought his arm up against Sam's wrist and slipped in under the young man's defense, burying his Tojo blade into Sam's chest. He pushed back, sending Sam stumbling.
Sam looked down at the blades protruding from his torso and sighed. "Didn't you learn your lesson the first time? Save yourself the trouble, Gabriel. Trust me, I'm doing you a favor here."
Van Helsing didn't even have time to register Sam's next move it was so fast. Before he knew it, Sam was directly in front of him, his rapier biting down across his chest, opening up a deep gash that send him reeling. Sam didn't let up, his blade finding Van Helsing's face and side before he finally plunged the weapon through the stomach of the Holy Order's finest warrior.
Van Helsing wheezed, black creeping up on the edges of his vision as he stared at Sam's disturbingly serene face. Van Helsing's blade dropped from his numb fingers and he sagged against Sam, who wrenched his rapier free and stepped back to let Van Helsing crumble to the ground. Grimacing, Sam removed the Tojo blade from his chest and crouched down next to Van Helsing's head.
"We had hoped that Vladislaus would do this job for us and we wouldn't have to get involved, but I'm afraid we overlooked the simple fact that he couldn't kill his friend," Sam said, sighing softly and cranking the Tojo blade into motion. "Luckily, there are others in this world who are more willing to ignore little things like that. In these final moments, Gabriel, I would suggest that you start praying that God will accept you back into His mercy."
Sam stood up and regarded Van Helsing curiously for a moment before flicking the Tojo blade out of his hand. The weapon sang through the air and buried itself solidly in Van Helsing's back. Without a second glance, Sam turned and walked away.
The pain was excruciating. Van Helsing had never felt anything like it before and he knew without a doubt that he was going to die. When the Tojo blade had entered his back, he had felt it hit his spine and then he had lost all feeling in his legs. It was hopeless. In a force of sheer will, he rolled himself onto his side, not even bothering to stop the scream of agony the movement invoked. For a long moment, it was all he could do to keep from giving in to the black that threatened to consume him. When some amount of clarity returned to him, he reached a hand down and found the old rosary he had placed in his pocket before leaving Rome. He wrapped it around his hands and clutched it tight, his voice gurgling up from his failing lungs.
"Hail Mary, full of grace... the Lord is with thee... blessed are thou... among women and blessed is... the fruit of thy womb, Jesus... Holy Mary, Mother of God... pray for us sinners... now... and at the hour... of our death... Hail Mary... full of grace... the Lord is ...with thee..."
a/n: I hope this makes up for the fact that the last chapter was... lacking. I'd like to think that Sam has reached the pinacle of asshole- ishness by this point. Ah, he'll be back... but will Van Helsing?? I guess it woldn't be much of a Van Helsing fanfic if he wasn't... but death is kind of hard to dodge. Hmmm.
When the static in Van Helsing's head cleared, he found himself standing in the middle of a crowded city street. Instinctively, his hand went under his coat to the butt of his pistol, every muscle in his body tensing as he prepared for the expected backlash. But instead, it seemed as if no one had even noticed that he stood there. A hand dropped onto his shoulder and Van Helsing whipped around, the barrel of one pistol jabbing hard into Sam's chest.
"Easy there! Mind the gun," Sam said, pushing the weapon away with a finger. "You'll put someone's eye out with that thing."
Growling, Van Helsing put the gun away. "Where are we?" He'd come to the conclusion long ago that Sam was not human. What he was exactly, though... that was something he didn't have an answer for. The apparent teleportation only helped drive home the fact.
"Barcelona!" Sam said, spreading his arms and turning in a circle with a pleased sigh. "Isn't Spain wonderful? I love these Mediterranean countries."
"You said you wanted to talk, so start talking," Van Helsing snapped. The sooner he got this over with the better. Sam's peculiar aura was starting to make him feel ill. Sam raised one pale eyebrow at Van Helsing and produced a stick of dark chalk from his pocket. Crouching down, he began to draw a series of complex lines and circles on the cobblestone ground. Van Helsing furrowed his brow, his unease growing with each mark Sam made. Finally, the young man stood up and brushed his hands off.
"There. Do you recognize that?" he asked, pointing down to the string of marks.
"It's ... it's ..." Van Helsing struggled to grasp their meaning. It was a word; he knew that much and it's meaning was practically screaming at the back of his mind. He should know it, Goddamnit, what was it? He pressed a hand against the side of his head, feeling a horrible ache coming on. Sam slid up next to him, wrapping an arm around Van Helsing's shoulders and coaxing him on softly.
"It's your name, Gabriel."
Benito glanced over to where Luis was entertaining Isabel by picking wildflowers with her. Van Helsing had been gone some time and he was beginning to wonder what the man's idea of "not long" was exactly.
"Isabel, Luis, we're going home now," he called to the two finally, turning his horse around. Isabel was at his side a moment later, her small hands griping her grandfather's pant leg. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading.
"We can't go yet! Señor Helsing isn't back!" she begged, tugging on his pants. He shook her off, frowning. The child still had a lot of growing up to do, but he didn't blame her. It was the way of the young. He gave her a look that she knew better to question and sent her to Luis' horse, her feet dragging the whole way. Luis hefted her up and set her in front of him in the saddle. As they road off, Isabel craned her head to cast a last glance to where Van Helsing's horse still stood tied to a tree.
"Papa..." she complained as Luis' horse came into stride with Benito's.
He shushed her sharply. "Señor Helsing is a grown man, Isabel. He will find his way back when he's done with whatever it is he is doing. Have you forgotten that you and Luis still have chores to do?"
Isabel crossed her arms and made a face.
"I'll come back later this evening if he hasn't returned," Benito sighed, unable to resist his granddaughter in such a mood. "Will that make you feel better?" She nodded a little, but still seemed upset. Benito knew he could do little to help her spirits, but he trusted that Van Helsing was in capable hands.
"My name?" Van Helsing ground the words out around clenched teeth, trying to keep from throwing up on the spot. It was because Sam was so close... the man made Van Helsing's stomach churn. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He shoved Sam away violently, staggering back a step and pressing a hand to his mouth as his stomach threatened to rebel.
"Gabriel... Gabriel... what's wrong? Are you ill? Perhaps you need some time to properly digest this information. Shall I take us somewhere else?" Sam said, his voice so terribly friendly. Van Helsing couldn't think straight again. He had to get away... no, he had to fight, but not here. Not with all the people around.
"Stay... stay away from me," he gasped, trying to find a single clear thought in his head and failing. Sam made a sound not unlike a mother trying to comfort a child.
"But we have so much to talk about, Gabriel," he practically purred, inching his way closer. "You just need to sit down and rest for a while. Wouldn't you like to rest? You'll feel much better afterwards and then we can continue our conversation."
He was up next to Van Helsing again and all rational thought took flight. Sitting down and resting sounded like a very good idea. He was tired, after all. It felt as if he had been running around forever without a rest. Going here... going there... never stopping. Do this, do that. He opened his mouth to say something at the exact moment that he dropped his arms to his side. Something fell into his hand. Before Van Helsing could properly register what he was doing, his fingers had wrapped around the hilt of his Tojo blade, cranking the gears and lashing out at Sam. The cruel buzz saw blades found their mark in flesh and bone, biting into Sam's ribs with a sickening crunch. Blood was everywhere and a second later it seemed as if the world around them had suddenly snapped back to reality. Sam's body hit the pavement, lifeless and then the screaming started. It seemed as if all of Barcelona shrieked at once and everyone seemed to want to run in a different direction. Bodies slammed into Van Helsing and he could see people tripping over Sam's corpse as they desperately tried to run away. He was buffeted from all sides, hands grabbing as they passed and feet trampling over anything that got in their way as the whole crowd panicked.
He screamed, bellowed for a clear path and surged into the mob, pushing forward even as those sane enough to realize what had happened tried to stop him. He shook them off, overpowering them in his desperation to flee. He glanced back once and saw, for a split second, the marks on the pavement, half scuffed away and covered in blood. His name...
He stuffed a hand into his coat, finding the grapple gun kept there and pointed it towards the rooftops. It shot off and a second later he was yanked free of the suffocating mob and rocketed skyward. The world spun around him and he tumbled onto a roof, rolling several times before coming to a stop against the opposite edge. He scrambled to his feet even as he shook the tether loose and set the grapple gun to retract the line all the way.
Below him in the street, he could see fingers pointing his way and voices raised above the others. He gulped down several calming breaths and took off across the rooftops. If he was lucky he could vanish before they brought the rifles to bear on him.
Van Helsing could hear feet pounding the pavement outside the empty shack he had discovered on the outskirts of Barcelona. Several times men had stuck their heads in to check, but they hadn't seen him crouching in a corner of the decaying rafters. It was a miracle they hadn't given out yet. This wasn't like him, but he couldn't shake the feeling that had come over him when Sam had told him those marks were his name. For some reason, it seemed that that simple fact was the single most important thing in the world and he couldn't figure out why. He was almost ready to admit that, for the first time he could remember, he was honestly terrified.
Eventually, the sounds of the searches died away outside and were replaced by the gentle ambience of the city. Van Helsing carefully unfolded himself from his hiding spot, his joints stiff from his time spent holding still. Grunting, he dropped to the ground and winced at the pins-and-needles feeling that shot up both legs. He stretched them out briefly and slunk out of the shack, still on guard. Thankfully the streets were empty and he slipped out unnoticed.
It was difficult moving about the city unnoticed, but there was one last thing Van Helsing had to do before he could leave Barcelona: he had to find a horse. Finding a stable was slow and tedious work; it was bad enough he didn't know the layout of the city, but trying to navigate it without being seen was even worse. There were several close calls and more than once he thought that he'd have to go looking for another hiding place, but he did eventually make it to a small stable safely.
It was simple enough finding a suitable horse with the stable hand asleep at the other end of the building and for the sake of urgency, Van Helsing bypassed the various tack for the animal and simply lead it out by the rope that had previously been keeping it tied in its pen. It had been quite some time since he had ridden bareback, but he didn't have much of a choice at the moment. As soon as he was clear of the stable, he swung up onto the horse and took off at a gallop out of Barcelona, the shouts of police at his back.
The sun was just beginning to set when Van Helsing's horse suddenly bucked wildly and collapsed under him, sending him tumbling across the grass. When he righted himself, he saw the horse laying motionless several yards away, as if it had dropped dead on the spot. Glancing around, all he could see was grass, a few trees and a lot of sky. No sign of anyone else or any kind of civilization.
When the static started in his head, his heart just about dropped into his stomach. No, he was dead! Van Helsing leapt to his feet, his sword singing as it left the sheath and when he turned he saw Sam, as expected, standing some distance away, his hands clasped behind his back. The young man looked none the worse for wear; even his clothes were immaculate. He unfolded his hands to reveal a saber in his hand.
"Honestly, Gabriel, you're so quick to lash out. Was that really necessary?" Sam said, his tone even. He let out a heavy sigh. "All you had to do was talk with me for a little while and you went and made a scene instead. Now I know why you had your memories taken away from you. You're so ... impulsive!"
Van Helsing forced his breathing into a steady rhythm, focusing his eyes on Sam's face. He had to keep a clear head. "Who are you?" he demanded, finally fed up with all of Sam's half veiled remarks. "How do you know me?"
Sam's expression fell into a disappointed frown. "You had your chance to ask questions and you gave it up! For this!" He lifted his shirt. Under the fabric was a disgusting gash, large enough for Van Helsing to easily identify the various bits of gore that were hanging out. Sam let his shirt drop and it was as if the wound had never been there. Van Helsing shook his head and blinked.
"Now..." Sam began, practically strolling towards Van Helsing, "now it is time for action, although I don't see how this will be much of a challenge. You're just a shell of your former self, Gabriel. I would have loved to fight you as you were, but I suppose that's just not going to happen. Life is full of disappointments. Wouldn't you agree?"
Van Helsing didn't answer. He didn't need to, because something told him Sam didn't expect one. The strange young man stopped a few paces from Van Helsing, his rapier held out in an opening stance.
"We had high hopes for you, Gabriel. Really we did. It's a shame it has to end this way," Sam said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. Van Helsing simply snarled and lunged into action. He had hoped to catch Sam off guard with the sudden attack, but the man seemed perpetually on his toes and danced out of the way, his rapier coming down across Van Helsing's back. Van Helsing turned, catching Sam's next blow between the still edges of a Tojo blade. He twisted Sam's sword away, stepping forward and leading with his own weapon. Sam pivoted to one side, but the blade still sliced through his side. The wound smoked and Sam hissed through his teeth.
"Is that a holy blade, Gabriel? Oh, that's cheating," he growled, spinning on the balls of his feet and slamming an elbow into Van Helsing's temple. He staggered backwards, his vision swimming, but remained on his feet. Sam closed the distance in a single long-legged stride and swung the hilt of his blade towards Van Helsing's shoulder. The blow was halted as Van Helsing brought his arm up against Sam's wrist and slipped in under the young man's defense, burying his Tojo blade into Sam's chest. He pushed back, sending Sam stumbling.
Sam looked down at the blades protruding from his torso and sighed. "Didn't you learn your lesson the first time? Save yourself the trouble, Gabriel. Trust me, I'm doing you a favor here."
Van Helsing didn't even have time to register Sam's next move it was so fast. Before he knew it, Sam was directly in front of him, his rapier biting down across his chest, opening up a deep gash that send him reeling. Sam didn't let up, his blade finding Van Helsing's face and side before he finally plunged the weapon through the stomach of the Holy Order's finest warrior.
Van Helsing wheezed, black creeping up on the edges of his vision as he stared at Sam's disturbingly serene face. Van Helsing's blade dropped from his numb fingers and he sagged against Sam, who wrenched his rapier free and stepped back to let Van Helsing crumble to the ground. Grimacing, Sam removed the Tojo blade from his chest and crouched down next to Van Helsing's head.
"We had hoped that Vladislaus would do this job for us and we wouldn't have to get involved, but I'm afraid we overlooked the simple fact that he couldn't kill his friend," Sam said, sighing softly and cranking the Tojo blade into motion. "Luckily, there are others in this world who are more willing to ignore little things like that. In these final moments, Gabriel, I would suggest that you start praying that God will accept you back into His mercy."
Sam stood up and regarded Van Helsing curiously for a moment before flicking the Tojo blade out of his hand. The weapon sang through the air and buried itself solidly in Van Helsing's back. Without a second glance, Sam turned and walked away.
The pain was excruciating. Van Helsing had never felt anything like it before and he knew without a doubt that he was going to die. When the Tojo blade had entered his back, he had felt it hit his spine and then he had lost all feeling in his legs. It was hopeless. In a force of sheer will, he rolled himself onto his side, not even bothering to stop the scream of agony the movement invoked. For a long moment, it was all he could do to keep from giving in to the black that threatened to consume him. When some amount of clarity returned to him, he reached a hand down and found the old rosary he had placed in his pocket before leaving Rome. He wrapped it around his hands and clutched it tight, his voice gurgling up from his failing lungs.
"Hail Mary, full of grace... the Lord is with thee... blessed are thou... among women and blessed is... the fruit of thy womb, Jesus... Holy Mary, Mother of God... pray for us sinners... now... and at the hour... of our death... Hail Mary... full of grace... the Lord is ...with thee..."
a/n: I hope this makes up for the fact that the last chapter was... lacking. I'd like to think that Sam has reached the pinacle of asshole- ishness by this point. Ah, he'll be back... but will Van Helsing?? I guess it woldn't be much of a Van Helsing fanfic if he wasn't... but death is kind of hard to dodge. Hmmm.