Reprisals chpt 12

By lunchtime the following day the Winchester boys were back at the motel, as usual, Against Medical Advice, and trying to find any information they could about what they were coming to believe with increasing certainty had happened down in the pit.

Sam poured over pages they printed from ancient texts, as well as some of the earliest translations of some of the Latin of the ritual. They were both well aware that translation through the ages was kind of a cosmic linguistic game of telephone… Oh if only we were up against something as simple as Mordechai Murdoch right now… He shook his head and pressed his fingertips into his temples, he had a series of numbers running through his head and for the life of him he couldn't figure out what they were for. Well they can't be coordinates… that much is for sure… where the hell did I hear them? he wondered briefly and shoved them back into his brain for later pondering.

Dean was on the computer continuing with a general search, and despite things being currently quiet, neither man could truly bring himself to believe, having gotten what it wanted, that Eddy Jay would simply leave them alone now. Dean rubbed his eyes, he felt like they'd become part of the computer screen in the last seven and a half hours he'd been sitting there.

Sam's right, it got our scent in Missouri and if it really found a way to… wow… then it's just biding its time. It was smart before, and something that smart and that cruel doesn't soften and dumb down when it gets what it wants…he lifted his eyes and looked at Sam across the table, his head in his hand, fingers fisted in his hair. We need a vacation… after this…I'll buy him a plane ticket to New York, he can go see Sarah while I take care of Aaron, make sure he really hasn't been… please don't let me be too late… don't let this thing have found a way to resurrect him too…cause if it has… I got a feeling Night of the Living Dead is gonna happen in a way no one ever thought possible…Wonder if Bobby's having any luck finding something that can help… man Dad would be pissed! I can't believe how I frakked this up… look at him…he shouldn't have to go through this, he didn't ask for it…he doesn't want it...but God help me I think he's being drawn in, he sees the good we do… except when we lose someone like Carol. He nodded frowning.

They'd done a search when they got back to the Motel and found that she'd indeed been murdered, in exactly the same way Dean had seen and felt it.

"Hey Sam… why don't you take a break huh? Cop a few hours while I'm still fresh enough to cover us?" he suggested his eyes flicking to the clock as Sam checked his watch.

"Dean we're salted to the teeth, you need rest too… " Sam admitted straightening and pushing himself out of the chair very carefully.

Yep, still hurtin'…this can't go on… an idea tumbled across his mind. They'd fortified the room, nothing was getting in here and both of them knew it. They also knew that according to all they'd been through since last year that only one entity that they knew of might even be capable of breeching their defenses, but since they hadn't seen hide nor hair of it, and dad was off chasing the signs again, it was a pretty safe bet nothing else was going to get in.

Well… yeah, he'd be as safe as possible…but why would I do that? What could I possibly hope to learn? What its plans are? Where it went? Why it's waiting? I think I need to go back again…inside, something groaned while something else nodded somberly, Yes Dean, yes you really should... He shook his head at the thought, There's so much at stake here, I've screwed this up so bad from the get-go, but Sam would be the one left here to fend for himself.

"Hey Sam?" he started, "You don't think there's anything… you know… back there… that could kinda clue us in on where he's going or what he's gonna do… do you?"

Sam's jaw dropped, he couldn't believe his ears, "Are… are you actually suggesting we go back there… again? Cause Dean I told you, I searched that house, it's basically an empty husk."

"Wa…well I wasn't really thinking WE…"

"What! Dean are you crazy!" Sam asked feeling anger start to boil in his guts. It wasn't often that Dean actually made him as angry as their dad could, but sometimes, just sometimes…

Instead of flopping into bed like he wanted to he returned to the table and towered over his sitting brother, "No… neither of us is going back there… now if you want to do something that might draw this thing out maybe we should go find that other guy's grave and get to work on salting and burning him…'cause that… that's a good idea too," he suggested and turned back to the bed where he rolled himself gently down and stuffed the pillow under his head.

Dean felt his blood puddle in his feet and he swallowed hard watching Sam situate himself, "Uhm other guy?" he asked.

"I don't know… that Aaron guy you were muttering about… who is he anyway?" Sam asked off handed, sleep sneaking quickly up on him so that he didn't notice Dean's sudden lack of color, or that he'd just broken out into a very waxy, very copious sweat.

Dean cleared his throat and forced himself to swallow some of his coffee, "Just another serial killer…"

Sam yawned nodding faintly, "Yeah, you got a morbid fascination alright…" but before Dean could think of formulating any kind of response Sammy was out, his breathing even and deep and comforting.

Dean slowly let out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding, hissing through his teeth a bit and scrubbed his face with his bandaged hands, God he knows... he doesn't know anything… he knows something! Did I say… well yeah, he said I was muttering the name… okay, so real simple, he's a serial killer, once again… of children… this case reminded me of that case cause it was a big story in 92, just like Gacy was in the 70's in Illinois… wonder if we should burn him too… I think he was electrocuted… hmmm have to check on that…Yeah, I can play this off… just need to keep my cool, and not sleep till its over cause I don't think I can take anymore of those nightmares…he joked with himself, his hand clasping the pendant he wore. He remembered his dad saying it would keep away the nightmares, the really bad ones that would wake him up screaming as a kid right after Mary's murder. He also remembered John telling him it wouldn't take away all of them. Help me out here dude. He willed and thought for an instant that maybe he should just go ahead and confide in Sam.

He acknowledged that a part of him wanted to share the burden, hadn't he almost spilled the beans once already during this case? Yeah, the problem with something like this is that you get so used to keeping it, so used to the weight of it that the idea of letting it go, of shrugging it off… well it's worse than showing up naked in class…he shook his head, Yeah, oh by the way Sammy back in 92, you know that summer you and dad almost died… I was a little sick myself and sorta got picked up by a freakin' child molester, but it's okay I killed him at the ripe old age of 13…yeah that'd go over like a lead… Zepplin … heh… nah, knowing Francis he'd sign me up for some post traumatic stress counseling or teenage killers anonymous or something…nah, not worth it.

But at least his breathing had returned to normal and he'd realized he could tell his little brother about Aaron Mitchell Beyers, if he asked, without really lying, so long as he stuck to the facts about who he was, and so long as Sam didn't ask him anything about anything else. I suck at lying… I hate it and I suck at it…Well too bad, if you have to, you have to. Just play it down and hope he accepts the basic facts, I mean I'm not lying about those…

--

By the time the sun winked over the Eastern horizon and Sam began to show signs of stretching out the accordion kinks he put into himself each night Dean was freshly showered, and dressed, the coffee was made and he was half packed, sitting at the table and organizing their paperwork. As he sat through the night reading his book for a time, when the files became to painful to go through, he realized Sam was right. He'd been worried enough about the resurrection of Aaron Beyers' prematurely, oh yeah, and violently murdered self to know instinctively that salting and burning the bastard was a good idea. He didn't know if Eddy Jay had picked it out of his head, or scratched away the mildew that had hidden the encounter for fourteen years, but if he had… thing was neither of them really knew if spirits, no matter how similar, no matter how evil, could interact.

Point is, he's got a body that can't be killed by consecrated iron rounds, that it's dead doesn't matter much now does it? It's not stopping him. I wonder if he's bound by the same constraints as we poor mortals? Even those demons we pulled out of Shelia needed to be bound by a set of rules before they could be killed, least that's what Sam was saying last night… Dad's got the Colt and a box of Joe Redbird's bullets but he sure as hell hasn't let us know if he's had a chance to test them out either…who the hell am I kidding? If he's gonna try and raise Aaron there's no one on Earth to blame but me. Once more Dean… way to frakk things up! Maybe I'm getting too old for this game… maybe I just can't cut it anymore… either way, I got no choice, I need to fix this once and for all.

--

Sam glanced at Dean again and turned back. For the last hundred miles he couldn't find a comfortable position. He felt like one giant bruise and the 800 mgs of over the counter pain relief were barely allowing him to take a full breath. He wondered if he'd trade his injuries for Dean's. Sure his hands were wrapped to the base of the fingers and that puncture in his forearm couldn't be fun, but at least he could yawn if he wanted to! Oh damnit! I had to think it! he cursed and slowly drew in the deepest breath he could hoping it would serve instead of that yawn he really wanted.

"Quit it!" Dean yawned without even having glanced sideways.

"Oh man!" Sam couldn't stop himself, filled his lungs, "…ow…"

"We got half the continent to go Sam, why don't you just close your eyes and rest," he suggested.

Sam smirked, "Yeah and leave you in your own head? Uh uh, and since we're on the subject of your head… what's goin' on in there Dean? Huh? You haven't been right since we started this case… I mean is it something like what happened when dad left you to face the Shtriga or something?" he asked, not having intended to at all.

He could see Dean struggling with something, maybe trying to find some smart ass comment to toss out to him then with a blink give up the quest.

"Sam, these were…horrible… cruel… people in life… we don't usually get a chance to stop this kind of evil… the kind that could happen on a grand scale if Eddy really managed to make that transition… this is an opportunity like we've never had before y'know?"

"I know that…" Sam nodded and decided that while the issue was open, he was going to press it a little, "… but this… your whole… thing, the bad dreams, the waking in the middle of the night, the tossing and turning… I mean Dean come on! When you're out you're like the Sleeping Giant… unless there's a noise or something but… aren't you the one who tells me you can't bring it home with you?"

Dean looked at Sam, daring to take his eyes off the road to gauge just how far his little brother was willing to push this right now before responding.

Far enough for now, he sighed internally, "Yeah, well sometimes when something is big enough I guess you don't have a choice about taking it home or not…" he tried.

He felt Sam take a breath and knew some kind of something was about to come out of his mouth. Those 'tells' were the reason Sam always lost to Dean when they played poker.

"Hey, don't forget, I was down there too… I heard it…" he swallowed hard and grimaced as the sound replayed in his head, as long as he lived he'd never want to hear that again, "…make you scream."

"That's what I do best…" came a leering purr into Sam's ear from the back seat as a cold gray arm wrapped around his throat, pinning him with crushing force against the seat as the face of Eddy Jay leered sidelong at Dean. He nibbled Sam's ear then stroked it with his tongue while Dean fought for control of the car with one hand and dug into his jacket with the other, his face almost as gray as Eddy's.

Sam reached back with his good left hand and entwined it into the back of Eddy's shirt so as soon as Dean got control of the car he could take the shot. The fingers of his right hand were trying to pry Eddy's arm off his throat so he could get a breath.

Eddy's hand covered Sam's ear conspiratorially while he looked at Dean sneering, "You know Dean… that was a really good idea you had… I'm gonna go dig up that old friend … I'll have to introduce you to him... soon…" he managed to keep Sam still with inhuman strength and leaned over pressing its mouth to Dean's ear, "Oh yeah… you've already met…" he kissed the side of his head and grinned lasciviously continuing to taunt him, "… your brother is sooooo sweet… I can't keep him all to myself… that would be wrong…"

Dean got Metallicar to the shoulder of the road and twisted in the seat firing as soon as the first bullet would touch the unwanted passenger. Before he could squeeze the trigger Dean met its eyes and froze, his suspicions were confirmed as they first became solid black, then returned to their undead milky gray before the entity that Eddy Jay's spirit had become burst into countless fragments of living dark dust and disappeared from the car as three quick rounds first shattered Metallicar's rear passenger window and the other two slugs sailed out over a patch of prairie.

"Sam?" Dean gasped breathlessly, the gun still in his right hand he grasped Sam's chin and turned his head. "You alright?"

Sam coughed and nodded, rubbing bruised-banana colored throat, "I am so sick of these sons of bitches and their obsession with my throat…" he shook his head meeting Dean's eyes, confirming that he was okay by that particular brand of contact.

"I saw it Sam, I saw its eyes change… we made him a demon…" Dean breathed hard feeling his stomach turn and his heart pound with fury for their mistake.

--

Going to start 13

Please…

Thanks…

sifi