Chapter 8: It's All Greek to Me

Author's Notes: I've been doing a lot of research for this story. It almost fells like being back in college. :-) Anyway, I've been studying demonology and ancient Greek and Egyptian texts and in the end I decided to use some of what I found but also make some of it up too. So, if in this chapter or the next couple of chapters you see something that isn't a hundred percent accurate please don't kill me.

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Sam sat up in his bed. He looked at the clock and was surprised to see that it was now four in the afternoon. He had been asleep for over three hours. Ever since Dad had dropped them back off at home before heading back to work. He slid his legs off the side of the bed and stood up, stretching his back and neck. He lifted the shade that Dean had lowered for him earlier and enjoyed the feel of the warm sunlight on his face.

There was a knock on the door and then Dean entered. "Hey, I thought I heard you moving around in here. How are you feeling?"

"Better," Sam said. "The Tylenol kicked in and the headache is gone."

"Good. Come and eat. You missed lunch."

"I'm not really hun…," Sam started to say but Dean cut him off.

"Sammy, Dad asked me to make sure you ate. You have to bulk up again. You lost too much weight while in that coma. Dad wants us fattened up and to start training again to get some strength back, and before you ask me why I always follow Dad's orders, I have to tell you I agree with this one. We both need to bulk up and work out some, injured or not."

"Dean, stop trying to convince me. You win." Sometimes Dean's mother hen routine was almost funny. So what's for lunch?"

"You should actually be happy for once," Dean grinned.

In the kitchen Sam was happy. There was a whole roasted chicken, two big bowls of mashed potatoes with gravy, two bowls of macaroni and cheese, a bowl of corn, and a pile of cornbread biscuits.

"Wow, this looks awesome. Where did it come from?" Sam gasped.

"I used the forty bucks Dad gave us and walked to Boston Market, which is just down the street. I saw it this morning on the way to the library. There is also a large container of soup in the fridge, a meatloaf, and a container of red potatoes. I figured I'd buy enough food to last for several meals."

"This must have cost a fortune."

"It pretty much took up the entire $40. I think maybe I have about fifty cents left, but I was just following Dad's orders."

"You mean fattening me up? You make it sound like I'm going to be on a carving plate come Thanksgiving," Sam laughed.

"Whatever, just sit down and eat!"

The sight of the hot and delicious food suddenly made Sam's mouth water and he didn't need to be told twice. He sat down and began heaping food onto his plate. Dean carved up the chicken and set several large portions on Sam's dish before piling it on to his own.

"Pass the butter," Sam said with his mouth full. Dean did and Sam quickly slathered a generous amount onto his cornbread. "Oh man, this is incredible. It's definitely better than frozen pizzas, peanut butter and jelly, and hospital food."

"Mmm, you can say that again," Dean agreed. "We just have to make sure to leave plenty for Dad."

"I don't think that will be a problem. You bought a ton of food."

"I called Bobby while you were sleeping. I told him your theory about this thing predating Christianity. He thinks it might be Greek. He said they had a lot of Daimones back in their day and that if this thing is three thousand years old it would fit the timeline."

"That's a possibility," Sam said after swallowing a mouthful of food. "That would be during the fall of Greece as it was becoming a Roman state. For a while the Greeks and the Romans had similar gods and goddesses and even demons. Then when a little over a thousand years later it slowly starts to move towards monotheism the old ways and beliefs were ignored. This demon might have resented people no longer believing in him so he decided to make the journey across realms to be all powerful once more."

"Talk about ego," Dean quipped. "Bobby also said that the traditional Latin exorcisms should still work on it just fine, possibly even the holy water now that it's injured."

"So the reason the holy water didn't work the first time is because this demon was too powerful?" Sam questioned.

"That's what Bobby thinks. He contacted a priest he knows in Africa and then called me back. This African priest has apparently performed several exorcisms on some really old ass demons. He said one of them had also been invincible to the holy water at first too, but that once the demon had been weakened he was no stronger than any other."

"Whoa, how did this priest weaken the demon?" Sam exclaimed.

"I asked that too," Dean continued. "Apparently this priest has the Ring of Solomon."

"You're kidding! That ring is supposed to be a legend. That's how Solomon was able to control thousands of demons to do his bidding and build his Temple."

"You know what they say about every legend. There's always a grain of truth in there somewhere," Dean replied.

"I wonder if Bobby can get his friend to part with that ring for a while." Sam said.

"Not going to happen. The priest refuses to give it up. I also asked if the priest would fly to the states and that was also an affirmative no. Apparently he is also fighting his own battle with demons and just can't abandon his people."

"Well, at least we have the colt. If this thing is weaker then that will help too."

"One thing Bobby mentioned was trying to find the demon's name. One way to make a demon powerless is to say its name."

"Do you have any idea how many demons there have been since the beginning of time. We could be shouting out names at the thing for hours and never say the right one."

"I agree, but still, it might be something to look into," Dean pointed out. "It sounds like a job that would be perfect for sidekick, Geek Boy."

"Don't call me that," Sam complained. "And I'm not your sidekick. Did you call the guy from Chicago?"

"Sam, the person I called in Chicago was Caleb."

"So?"

"Sam, Caleb's dead. Meg killed him, remember?"

Sam's fork stopped halfway to his mouth. God, how could he have forgotten that?

"When you asked me to call him earlier I ignored it since I thought you were just a little out of it from the whole vision thing," Dean continued.

"I…I knew he was dead, I just, momentarily forgot. He's always been part of our lives, both him and Father Jim." Sam dropped his fork. Somehow it was just now hitting him that two members of their extended family had died.

"We never even took a moment to mourn them and they are both dead because of us, because this thing is after me," Sam sighed.

"Sam, there was nothing we could have done, and for the record they died because Dad had the colt, not because the demon was looking for you."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Sam, I want to talk about your visions."

"Why?" Sam asked. "What about them?"

"Sam, I think we should get you some help."

"What do you mean? Help for what?"

"Help for your visions. I was thinking that we should call Missouri. She might be able to teach you how to control them a little so they won't be so painful. I mean, you passed out today. What if we had been in the middle of a job? One or both of us would have ended up dead."

"Dean, I don't think so. I've had visions while on the job before, and technically it saved your life. I saw Max kill you, remember? I'll be okay."

"I think you just don't want to deal with it."

"I deal with it every day! I don't really have a choice. I just think I can handle it on my own. I don't need someone messing with my head."

"Sam your head is already a mess. Maybe Missouri could get things a little more organized in there."

"Dean, please, just drop it. I don't want to talk about this now."

"Fine, when will you want to talk about it? I'll bring it up then."

Sam was growing more and more frustrated. "I don't ever want to talk about it, okay. If I have a vision then I have a vision. If I have a nightmare then I have a nightmare. I'll deal with it and move on. After all, we're Winchesters. It's what we do."

"Maybe, but since you're the first psychic in the family maybe we can break the rules just this once and seek some outside help."eHe

"Missouri can't help me, Dean. I asked her back in Lawrence what was happening to me and she told me she didn't have any answers."

"You never told me that," Dean said.

"Yeah, well, at the time you were having your own issues," Sam replied.

"What do you mean?"

"You were trying to adjust to the fact that your brother was a freak, that mom was a ghost, and that whole poltergeist thing that took up residence in a house you swore you'd never step foot in again."

"Sam, you still could have told me. I've never failed to be there for you."

"No, you haven't, but sometimes I need to know that I'm not adding more weight to the burden you already carry on your shoulders."

Dean didn't know how to respond to that so he took a few more bites of his meal as did Sam.

"So how did Dad handle my having a vision today?" Sam asked. Dad had raced them home and he and Dean had helped Sam to his room. Sam had fallen asleep almost immediately.

"He only stayed for a few minutes after you fell asleep cause he had to get back to work. He seemed okay. I mean, he didn't like seeing you in pain like that, but he wasn't freaking out or preparing to douse you with holy water or anything."

"That's good," Sam chuckled. "So, is Bobby going to send us those books?"

"Yeah, he said he'd fed-ex them overnight mail. They should come in the mail tomorrow or the next day."

"That's good." Sam wiped his mouth with one of the paper napkins and finished off his can of soda. "Later I'll research Greek demons and see what I come up with."

"It'll have to wait until after we train," Dean reminded.

"No problem," Sam replied. "Actually, working out sounds pretty good right now."

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Later that evening John sat in the living room with Sam and Dean. Sam was on his laptop continuing with the research into the demon. It wasn't easy to type with his arm in his cast but he hunched over low to the computer and was managing to reach the keys. Dean was lying in the sofa reading one of the books Sam had checked out of the library.

John was busy cleaning and oiling the guns. Neither Sam nor Dean commented on the task. It wasn't unusual for him to do it. It was something both Dean and he did as a way of calming down for the night. There was something very rhythmic and peaceful in the routine of the act.

John looked up at the clock and saw that it was going on ten o'clock. "I think you boys should probably get ready for bed. I imagine you're tired after the library and then working out for the first time today. How did that go, by the way?"

"It went fine. We couldn't do all of the exercises we usually do, but we got through most of them," Dean replied.

"How long did you two spare?" John continued.

"For about thirty minutes," Dean answered.

"That's good. I want you boys to keep it up. I want you both back in shape as quickly as possible."

"Don't worry, Dad," Sam replied. He knew the bulk of his father's concern was over him. "We'll be back to normal in no time." When his father gave him a small smile Sam returned it.

"Well, like I said, off to bed with you two."

"Good night," they said and walked out of the living room.

John watched them take turns at the bathroom and then turn off the kitchen light. A few minutes seconds later he heard their door close. He finished methodically cleaning the weapons. He put the cleaning kit away and then sharpened his favorite knife on his stone until the blade was a sharp as a scalpel. Next, he loaded the clips of his two favorite guns. He slipped a bottle of holy water into his pocket along with the new Rosary he had purchased before coming home from work. He slid his knife into his sheath and buckled the leather strap over his chest. Finally, he picked up the colt and inserted the last bullet into the chamber. He pulled his jacket on and put the colt in the inside pocket.

Fully armed he stepped lightly into the kitchen and listened for any trace of noise that might be coming from the bedroom. All he heard was silence. Confident that the boys were asleep he turned to leave. He paused for a moment as he realized he needed to do something. He couldn't leave his sons clueless like he had last time. He stepped back to the kitchen table where Sammy had left a notepad with some of his research. He tore out a clean sheet of paper and picked up Sam's pen.

Boys,

If luck is on my side I will be home before morning and the nightmare that has plagued our family will be gone. Sammy will finally be free. If I don't make it back home just know that I love you both.

Dean, words can never say how much you mean to me. You held this family together when I wasn't able to. Often I took you for granted and I'm sorry for that. You had to grow up so fast that you never really had a childhood, but you have the heart of a lion and I know that even if I don't make it back I will be able to count on you.

Sam, the reason you and I fought so much is because we are too much alike. Even though there were times I cursed your pigheadedness, I also admired it. You were never a disappointment to me, a headache, yes, but a disappointment, no. You have grown into a man that I am proud of.

If I don't make it back you two will be all that is left of our family. Don't ever turn your backs on each other. Protect and look out for each other and if I make it into heaven, and yeah that's a pretty big if, know I will be watching down on you two and will always be with you.

Dad

John placed the note on the table where they would be sure to see it in the morning. He knew what he was about to do was wrong but he didn't want to endanger his sons. They weren't ready for this yet, and Sam was right, he couldn't pass up this opportunity to get the drop on the evil son of a bitch. At least he wasn't abandoning his children without telling them anything this time. He only hoped he would be home before morning safe and sound.

He took one last long look at the closed door that separated him from his children. He longed to open the door and take a last glimpse at them just in case tonight was his last night on this earth, but he knew he couldn't. Dean and probably even Sam would wake immediately and want to know what was happening.

Finally he turned and walked stealthily out of the kitchen, through the living room and out the front door without making a sound. He made sure the front door was locked before heading down the porch steps to the truck in the drive way.

He took several steps towards his truck and then stopped dead in his tracks. "Shit." Even though he was cursing under his breath he couldn't stop the smile that spread over his face as he saw both Sam and Dean leaning against the truck waiting for him.

"Hey, Dad, going somewhere?" Dean asked with his classic grin plastered to his face.