Chapter 8

Dean ignored the speed limit as he drove north toward Alan's cabin, a look of grim concentration on his face. He glanced over at Riley who had succumbed to exhaustion and was slumped against the passenger door. Dean's leather jacket was draped over her and tucked beneath her chin. He cursed as he hit a pothole and the jolt awakened Riley. She sat up and looked around.

"How much further?" she asked as she wiped the sleep from her eyes.

"About an hour," Dean told her. "How are you doin'?"

"Thirsty and hungry," she replied. "They weren't too big on the hospitality."

"What happened Riley? How did they get you?" Dean asked as he reached into the back seat to retrieve a bottle of water for her.

"Thanks," she said, taking a drink before continuing. "The last thing I remember was heading to my car after morning workout yesterday. I woke up in that apartment tied to a chair with those black-eyed demon-y things looking at me." She shivered at the memory.

"Oh Riley, I'm so sorry you got dragged into this," Dean said, eyeing the bruises and swelling on her face. "I never wanted any of this to touch you."

"Dean, this isn't your fault," she assured him.

"Still…" he trailed off. "Do you want to talk about it? What they did to you?"

"Not particularly."

"Ok," Dean conceded.

Seeing a Walgreen's drugstore sign, Dean turned off the highway, drove a block and pulled into the parking lot. He turned off the ignition and opened the door.

"You should probably stay here," he said gesturing to her colorful face. "I have to get a few things and I'll get you something to eat."

"I'll be here," she replied.

Dean climbed back into the Impala a few minutes later and dropped two plastic bags on the seat between them, started the car and headed back towards the highway. Riley leaned over to examine their contents. She munched hungrily on the energy bar Dean tossed her as she rifled through the bags. She held up a package of Sharpie markers with a questioning look.

"There's a picture of a protective circle in that old book back there," he said gesturing toward the back seat, "and once a demon is inside it, he can't get out—sort of like a demonic roach motel. We'll draw it on the floor in the cabin and get dad inside it somehow so Sammy can perform an exorcism and send the thing back to Hell."

"Nice!" Riley said approvingly.

"There's a first aid kit in the other bag if you want to patch yourself up a bit."

Riley nodded and located the kit. She pulled out the bottle of antiseptic and poured some onto a sterile gauze pad. Riley grimaced when she flipped down the visor and saw her reflection in the mirror. She dabbed at the cuts and scratches on her face and put a Band-aid on the gash on her cheekbone. She cleaned and then applied antibiotic ointment to the rope burns on her wrists that had been the result of struggling against her restraints, then wrapped gauze bandages around them.

Riley glanced at Dean and saw the tension in his jaw and the steely look in his eyes.

"Hey," she said softly, "are you ok?"

Dean blew out a heavy sigh and shook his head.

"I don't know… that demon I told you about, Meg, she wasn't just a demon. She was a real girl who had been taken over by a demon. She came after us and we trapped her in one of those circles and Sam performed an exorcism. Her body had been broken beyond repair while the demon had been in her, so once it was gone, she died after a couple minutes. And that guy I shot? There was a person in there."

"You didn't have a choice Dean." Riley told him.

"Yeah, I know. That's not what bothers me," Dean replied.

"Then what does?" Riley asked cautiously.

Dean's eyes remained on the road as tears gathered in them. He was quiet for a moment before he answered.

"Killin' that guy, killin' Meg…" Dean began, "I didn't hesitate—I didn't even flinch. For Sam or Dad, the things I'm willing to do or kill is just, ah… it scares me sometimes," he said quietly.

"Dean, you were protecting your family. That's what you're supposed to do. Yes, Meg and that guy were real people, but they were being held captive by the demons in them and you freed them from that. What you did, and what you're willing to do does not make you a bad person. You're a good man Dean—one of the best I've ever met."

I wish I could believe that, Dean thought to himself.

Riley squeezed his shoulder comfortingly and let him sit in the silence it seemed he needed.

Dean and Riley reached the cabin just as the sun was setting. The bedroom had a large worn old rug that covered the center of the floor. Dean rolled it back and he and Riley quickly and carefully drew the protective circle on the floor. When Dean was sure it matched the picture in the book, he rolled the rug back into place.

Hearing the sound of car tires crunching on the gravel driveway outside Dean scanned the room and eyed the closet.

"Go! Hide in the closet," he ordered Riley. "It can't know you're here and awake or he'll know his cover is blown."

Riley nodded, quickly hugged Dean and headed toward the closet.

"Be careful," she said before closing the door behind her.

"I will," he promised before heading out to the main room.

When Sam and his dad walked in, Dean was busy placing lines of salt beneath all the windows.

"You guys ok?" he asked.

"Yeah," Sam replied as he closed and locked the door behind him and dropped the duffel bag on the floor. Sam's face was bruised and his lip bloodied. His right eye was almost swelled shut. But Dean noticed with relief that he seemed to be moving around alright.

"You left Riley at a hospital?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean replied. "I hate not knowing whether or not she's ok, but she's safer there than with us. You wanna help me out with this Sammy?" Dean asked gesturing Sam over to him.

As John ambled into the room and leaned heavily against a table, Sam joined Dean and took the can of salt he offered.

"What do you think, Sammy? Is he our Dad?" Dean whispered.

"I don't know," Sam replied uncertainly as he began pouring salt in front of the door to the cabin.

"Hey Dad?" Dean said moving to join John.

"Yeah son?"

"Look, I'm sorry about earlier…I used a bullet."

"No, you did good."

"You're not mad?"

"Mad? I'm proud of you. You know, Sam and I... we can get pretty obsessed. But you? You watch out for this family. You always have."

"Thanks," Dean replied softly.

Suddenly the lights flickered and a strong wind began to blow outside.

"It found us! It's here!" John said as he peered out the window.

"The demon—" Sam began but John cut him off.

"Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, every door," John commanded.

"We already did it."

"Well, check it, ok?"

"Ok," Sam replied as he moved to comply.

"Dean? You got the gun?" John asked.

"Yeah."

"Give it to me."

"Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation and it vanished."

"This is me. I won't miss. Now, the gun. Hurry!"

Dean looked at the precious weapon in his hand and looked warily back at his father.

"Son, please!" John demanded as he reached a hand toward Dean.

Dean fixed his father with a cold gaze and took a step back from him. He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that Riley had been right. His dad was possessed.

"Gimme the gun! What are you doing Dean?"

"He'd be furious," Dean said quietly.

"What?"

"That I wasted a bullet. He wouldn't be proud of me. He'd tear me a new one." Dean cocked the gun and leveled it at his father. "You're not my Dad."

"Dean, it's me!"

"I know my Dad better than anyone," Dean growled, "and you ain't him."

"What the hell's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Stay back."

"Dean!" Sam exclaimed upon entering the room and seeing his brother with the Colt trained on their father. "What the hell is goin' on?"

"Your brother's lost his mind." John told him.

"He's not Dad." Dean said evenly. "He is possessed."

"Don't listen to him Sammy." John said.

"Dean, how do you know?" Sam asked.

"He's different."

"You know, we don't have time for this," John said impatiently. Sam, you wanna kill this demon? You gotta trust me."

"No," Sam said quietly as he moved to stand beside his brother.

"Fine," John said, anger twisting his features. "You both so sure… go ahead… kill me."

Dean's hand shook as he kept the gun leveled at his father. John nodded then looked down at his feet.

"I thought so." John said with an eerily hard edge to his voice. He looked up again and his eyes were the yellow eyes of the demon they had hunted all their lives.

Before Dean and Sam could react, Sam was flung back against one wall and Dean against another, the impact knocking the Colt from his hand. The brothers struggled but remained pinned against the wall, powerless against the invisible force the demon possessed.

Dean tried to pull away from the wall with everything he had but it was no use. He watched helplessly as the demon walked over and picked the Colt up from the floor.

"What a pain in the ass this thing's been." The demon said examining the mystical weapon he now held in his hand.

"It's you, isn't it," Sam said accusingly from his own invisible prison against the wall. "We've been looking for you for a long time."

"Well, you found me," the demon shot back with an evil grin.

Sam struggled and pulled his head away from the wall but with one look from the demon his head was slammed back against it.

"I'm gonna kill you!" he growled.

"Oh, that'd be a neat trick," the demon said as he set the Colt on the table. "In fact, here, make the gun float to ya there Psychic Boy." He watched with a sardonic smile as Sam concentrated on the gun with no effect. "Well, this is fun," he chuckled. "I coulda killed you a hundred times today, but this… this is worth the wait. Your dad, he's in here with me. Trapped inside his own meat-suit. He says 'hi' by the way. He's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."

"Let him go," Dean snarled, "or I swear to God-"

"What? What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice." He walked to stand in front of Dean. "You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter."

"Who Meg?" Dean asked incredulously.

"The one in the ally? That was my boy. You understand?"

"Oh you gotta be kidding me," Dean muttered.

"What? You're the only one that can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?"

Dean's face twitched with pent-up anger and the demon's face twisted into a smirk.

"Oh, that's right. I forgot, I did! Still, two wrongs don't make a right."

"You son of a bitch," Dean said quietly, his voice shaking with rage.

"I wanna know why," Sam called from across the room. "Why'd you do it?"

"You mean why'd I kill Mommy and pretty little Jess?" he asked, turning to Sam.

"Yeah."

"You know, he never told you this," the demon said turning back to Dean, "but Sam was gonna ask her to marry him. Been shopping for rings and everything." He walked over to Sam and looked into his eyes. "You wanna know why? Because they got in the way."

"In the way of what?" Sam asked.

"My plans for you Sammy. You, and all the children like you."

"Listen," Dean spoke up, "you mind just getting this over with, huh? Cuz I really can't stand the monologuing."

"Funny!" the demon snapped as he turned and walked back to Dean. "But that's all part of your M.O. isn't it? Mask all that nasty pain. Mask the truth."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Dean asked, fury smoldering in his eyes.

"You know, you fight and you fight for this family but the truth is, they don't need you. Not like you need them. Sam, he's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you," the demon taunted.

"I bet you're real proud of your kids too, huh?" Dean said with a sneer. "Oh wait, I forgot, I wasted 'em."

An inferno of odium raged in the demon's yellow eyes as they bored into Dean's. A sick smile played across the demon's face as invisible claws tore into the flesh of Dean's chest. Dean cried out in agony as his brother watched helplessly, crying out his name.

Suddenly Riley burst from the bedroom and ran at the demon, brandishing a shotgun like a club. Before she could make contact with the demon she was propelled across the room and against a wall.

"No!" Dean screamed as Riley's body hit the wall with a sickening thud and the shotgun clattered uselessly to the floor. The demon grinned as Riley struggled in his unseen grasp.

"Now, this is even better than I'd hoped," he said with a maniacal grin. Riley began to slide upward along the wall and onto the ceiling. "John watched Mary die and Sammy watched Jess die. It's only fair that you should watch the woman you love die too Dean."

Riley cried out as an invisible knife slashed across her abdomen. Dean watched in horror as dark red blood began to soak through Riley's white t-shirt and drip to the ground.

"Dad!" Dean gasped, "Dad, don't you let it kill her!" He struggled against his invisible restraints as Sam redoubled his efforts and tried in vain to move the gun with his mind.

"Dad, please…" Dean pleaded tears spilling from his eyes.

The demon's head lolled forward and when he looked up the demon's yellow eyes had been replaced by John's brown ones.

"Stop," John gasped, "Stop it!"

Dean and Sam were released from the invisible force and Riley fell to the ground. Dean ran to her as Sam lunged for the Colt and pointed it at the demon, who had quickly regained control of John.

"You kill me, you kill Daddy," the demon smirked.

"I know," Sam said before aiming at his leg and firing.

The bullet caught him just above his right knee and electricity sizzled and flashed through his body as he slumped to the ground, unmoving.

Dean had pulled Riley into his lap and his shaking hands were pressed to her wound, trying to slow the bleeding.

"Riley? Come on, honey, wake up. Please, open your eyes," he begged.

Riley stirred in his arms and she groaned as she became conscious of the pain.

"The demon… your dad," she gasped.

"Sam? Go check on Dad!" he yelled before turning back to her. "Everything's gonna be ok, just hold on."

"You ok?" she asked touching the blood that soaked through his t-shirt.

"I'm fine. Don't worry about me," he said as he pulled off the denim shirt he was wearing, wadded it up and pressed it to her wound. She whimpered when he applied the pressure.

"I'm sorry honey but I have to slow the bleeding."

Sam walked slowly towards John and tentatively called to him. He remained still. "Dean, we gotta do this now before it wakes up," Sam said.

Dean was torn as he looked between his dad and Riley.

"Go," Riley urged him. "I'll be ok. Help Sam get him into the circle."

Dean nodded and gently eased Riley to the floor before moving to help Sam drag their dad into the protective circle in the bedroom. They kicked the rug out of the way and lowered their dad's limp body onto the floor within the circle. Sam opened the journal, found the page with the exorcism ritual and began to recite the Latin. Dean was no help to Sam at this point so he nodded to Sam before returning to Riley's side.

A frightening amount of blood soaked her t-shirt and sweat pants and darkened the floor around her.

"Don't look so serious, you're freakin' me out," Riley said with a weak smile as Dean knelt beside her and resumed applying pressure to her wound.

"Stop bleeding so much, you're freakin' me out," Dean shot back with a wry smile.

Suddenly, John's cries roared through the cabin before an eerie silence settled over it again.

"Sammy?" Dean yelled.

"We're good, Dean," he called back. "The demon's in Hell where it belongs. It's over."

The Impala rumbled through the darkness with Sam at the wheel. Dean held Riley in his arms in the backseat, still desperately trying to assuage the blood flowing from her abdomen. Her eyes were open, looking at him, but they were beginning to take on a glossy unfocused look. Shivers shook her body and Dean knew she was going into shock from the trauma and loss of blood.

"I'm so sorry Riley" Dean said quietly.

"N-not your f-fault," she said weakly. "I knew… w-what I was d-doing when I went after th-the d-demon."

"You saved my life."

"Then it w-was worth it," Riley whispered.

Dean didn't agree, but he kept that thought to himself. Instead, he brushed a kiss across her forehead before locking eyes with Sam in the rearview mirror. "Come on Sammy, floor it!" Dean barked.

"I am! Look, just hold on, alright? The hospital's only ten minutes away," he assured Dean.

John sat in the passenger seat, a make-shift pressure bandage around the bullet-wound in his leg. He was worn out but he would make it.

"What's your cover story Dean?" he asked pragmatically.

"We were vacationing at our friend's cabin. Riley went for a run and never came back. We searched the trails for hours and finally found her like this, lying in a ditch." Dean replied, always quick with a fabricated scenario.

"My bullet wound would complicate things. It's not bad though. Sammy can take me to Bobby's after we drop you off and he can patch me up."

"Sounds like a plan," Sam said as he gripped the steering wheel.

Riley lost consciousness a little while later and fresh panic stabbed through Dean's heart. Her face was ashen, her breathing shallow and ragged. He pressed his fingers to her carotid artery and found her pulse weak and noticeably slower than normal. Dean bowed his head and closed his eyes.

"God," he said softly, "I know I'm a total screw-up and I've got no right to ask you for anything, but Riley believes in you and loves you so completely. She deserves to live God… and I need her—I need her so much! So please, help her make it though this—if not for me, then for her. Please God…"

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