DISCLAIMER: I still own no one:)
S1 EP21 SALVATION
Books and newspaper articles were strewn across the table. Photographs were pinned to the wall of the hotel room along with various drawings from Bridget's sketch book that she had drawn out in that week along with previous others. John was seated at the desk while Sam, Bridget, and Dean remained standing. The Colt sat in front of him and he gestured at all the maps and books and papers, "So, this is it. This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives we've been searching for this demon, right? And not a trace, just nothing…until about a year ago. For the first time, I picked up a trail."
"That was when you took off," Bridget noted.
He nodded, "Yeah, that's right. The demon must have come out of hiding or hibernation."
"All right, so what's this trail you found?" Dean asked.
"It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California – houses are burning down to the ground. It's going after families…just like it went after us and Bridget."
"Families with infants?" Sam asked.
"Yeah- the night of the kid's six month birthday."
"I was six months old that night?" Sam asked.
"Exactly six months," John said.
Sam glanced at Bridget and she nodded, knowing the question. "My nephew was six months old that night too."
"So, basically, this demon is goin' after these kids for some reason – the same way it came for me? So, Mom's death, Jessica – it's all 'cause of me?"
"We don't know that, Sam," Dean said.
"Oh, really, 'cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure, Dean," Sam argued.
"For the last time, what happened to them was not your fault," Dean said irritated.
"Yeah, you're right, it's not my fault, but it's my problem."
"No, it's not your problem, it's our problem!"
"Okay, that's enough," John said and stood up.
Bridget was the first to speak, "So, why is it doing it? What does it want?"
"Look, I wish I had more answers. I've always been one step behind it…I've never gotten there in time to save…"
"All right," Dean said after a moment. "So, how do we find it before it hits again?"
"There's signs. Look, it took me a while to see the pattern, but in the days before these fires, signs crop up in an area – cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. And then I went back and checked and…"
"These things happened in Lawrence."
He nodded, "The week before you mother died," he looked at Sam. "And in Palo Alto…before Jessica…" he turned his head to Bridget. "And in Denver…before your brother and his family…and these signs are starting again."
"Where?" Bridget asked.
"Salvation, Iowa."
"Not exactly the vacation capital of the world, is it?" Bridget asked, looking out her window at the plain fields and small housing units of the little town, tapping her pencil against the railroad tracks she had drawn through the perspective of a window. It was a picture she had the other night and couldn't figure it out.
"Good thing we're not on vacation," said Dean.
"No, but after this I want one," she mumbled.
"Yeah, tell me…what the hell, why is Dad pulling over?" Dean asked and pulled the Impala to the side of the road. They got out of the car as John did, furious.
"Damn it!" he yelled.
"What is it?" Bridget asked.
"Son of a bitch!"
"What?" Dean asked.
"I just got a call from Caleb"
"Is he okay?" Dean asked.
"He's fine…Jim Murphy is dead."
"Pastor Jim? How?" asked Sam.
"Throat was slashed – he bled out. Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place."
"The demon?" Dean asked.
"I don't know. Could be he just got careless, he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're gettin' close."
"What do you want to do?" Bridget questioned this time.
"Now we act like every second counts. There's two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up, we cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's gonna be six months old next week."
"Dad, that could be dozens of kids. How the hell are we gonna know which one's the right one?" Sam asked.
"We'll check 'em all, that's how. You got any better ideas?"
Sam sighed, "No, sir."
"Good, let's get moving…" he said more determined than ever as he headed back to his truck.
Bridget rubbed the back of her neck with a yawn, "Yup, major vacation after this."
Dean dropped her and Sam off at the Salvation medical center and she grabbed the detective badges from the lock box for each of them, sliding her coat on as she got out of the car, glad she had chosen to wear jeans and a dark red long sleeved fitting shirt. They hurried in to avoid the rain and walked to the front desk, sliding their badges across the table.
"Hello," Sam greeted the receptionist. "I was wondering if we could see the records for every baby born in the last six months. Our client believes there was an incident with a mix up at birth, we just need to double check for her."
"Sure, let me get those for you," she said and turned away.
"Smooth move," Bridget snorted.
The receptionist came back twenty minutes later with several files and Bridget took out a note pad from her shoulder bag, handing a sheet to Sam as they copied the information down. Thirty minute later they were leaving the center.
Bridget cracked her knuckles, "I don't even get cramps in my fingers from drawing."
Sam suddenly stopped walking in front of her and she grabbed his elbow just as grimaced, rubbing at his temples. "Sam? Sam, what is it? What are you seeing?" He cried out and she held onto him, waiting for them to finish, feeling helpless. Suddenly he stood straighter, breathing heavily.
"Sam?"
"Train…" he said. "There's a train near the house."
Bridget's eyes widened and she grabbed her sketch book , flipping to the page. She held it to him, "Is this the train, Sam?"
He glanced at it with a nod, "Yeah, that's it."
She put the sketch book away and took out a map. "Okay, the only train running here is past this street in town."
"Let's go find it," he said and she stayed close to him, keeping her arm around him as they continued.
"You know, you don't have to keep your arm around me," he told her.
"I know, but it's an excuse to actually hold onto you. We haven't had any alone time in weeks, any closeness I can get, I'm taking," she said with a smile.
He chuckled slightly, putting his arm around her and kissing the top of her head. "When this is over, we'll have our vacation…and our own room."
"Sounds promising…but I think I want to sleep for a week first."
"Exactly what I was thinking," he nodded as they entered the small street area. Sam stopped a moment looking around.
"Is this the street?" she asked, looking up at him. She hated that in her boots he was still eight inches taller than her.
He nodded again, "Yeah," his eyes scanned the area and he pointed to a lady pushing a stroller, holding an umbrella. "That's her…"
They walked over to her and Sam went into gentleman mode as he saw her struggling to close the umbrella. "Hi," he said to the woman and put his hand on the carriage so it wouldn't tilt or move away. "Here, let me hold that. You don't need that anymore."
"Thanks," she said with a chuckle.
Bridget looked at the baby, "She's gorgeous. Is she yours?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, wow," Sam said and smiled at the baby. "Hi." He looked back at the dark haired lady. "I'm sorry, I'm rude. I'm Sam, this is my girlfriend, Bridget. We just moved up the block."
"Oh, hey, I'm Monica. This is Rosie."
"Rosie," Bridget repeated her name, "Hi, Rosie."
"Do you two have any children?"
Bridget's head shot up and she chuckled nervously, "Us? No. We've only been together a few months, not on the agenda, especially with our jobs."
"Yeah," Sam nodded, "We're on the road a lot."
"Oh…well, welcome to the neighborhood," Monica greeted them.
"Thank you. She's such a good baby," Sam commented.
"I know. I mean, she never cries. She just stares at everybody. Sometimes she looks at you, and I swear, she's reading your mind."
"What about you, Monica?" Bridget asked. "Have you lived here long?"
"My husband and I, we bought our place just before Rosie was born."
"How old is she?" Sam asked.
"She's six months today. She's big, growin' like a weed."
Sam smiled half heartedly, "Yeah…"
He trailed off and Bridget cleared her throat and grabbed Sam's hand. "Well, you take care, Monica. I got to get him home, he's had this headache all day."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," he said concerned.
"He'll be okay. It's usually the weather," she waved and crossed the street with Sam. "See you around."
A car pulled up into the driveway and Monica looked at Rosie. "Oh, there's Daddy." They watched from across the way and Bridget sighed. Sam grimaced suddenly and Bridget forgot she was holding his hand until the vision ripped through her though not painful as it was for Sam. She saw Rosie's nursery, the clock on the wall suddenly stopping. The mobile above her crib started to spin and a shadow of a man walked towards the crib. Monica came into the room at that point, eyes wide as the demon looked at her. She suddenly became pinned to the wall, screaming her daughter's name as blood pooled at her waist and the nursery caught on fire.
The vision ended and she grabbed hold of Sam as he clutched at his head, "Okay, time to get back to the hotel," she told him and they walked the rest of the way.
Bridget stood behind Sam who sat at the table, her hands on his shoulders while John and Dean sat on the bed. "A vision?" John questioned.
"Yes. I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling."
"I saw it too," Bridget nodded. "He was holding my hand at the time. It seeped into me.
"And you think it's gonna happen to this woman you met because…?" John trailed.
"Because these things happen exactly the way I see them," Sam said.
"It started out as nightmares," Bridget said, "And then he started getting visions. It's different from mine. I've been able to do it since I was thirteen or so. I only get them when I'm asleep and it's pictures…and it doesn't hurt. But Sam's are connected some how."
"Yeah, it's like the closer I get to anything involving the demon, the stronger the visions get."
"All right, when were you gonna tell me about this?"
"We didn't know what it meant," Dean said.
"All right, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you call me."
Dean scoffed, looking at his Dad. "Call you? Are you kiddin' me, Dad? I called you from Lawrence, all right? Sam called you when I was dying. Gettin' you on the phone – I got a better chance of winning the lottery."
John was silent a moment, "You're right. Although I'm not real crazy about this new tone of yours, you're right. I'm sorry."
"Look, guys, visions or no visions, the fact is, we know the demon is coming tonight. And this family's gonna go through the same hell that we all went through," Sam pointed out.
"No, they're not. No one is, ever again," John said and stood up. Sam's phone rang next to Bridget and she picked it up, not recognizing the number.
"Hello?"
"Bridget…" the voice said.
She felt her blood run cold and her eyes widen. Her necklace started to her warm and she touched it. "Meg…last time I saw you, you fell out the window then were standing on the street corner siking your little demons on us."
Sam and Dean stared at Bridget, wide eyed as she mentioned Meg's name. Meg continued talking, "Yeah, thanks for that. That really hurt my feelings by the way."
"Just your feelings? I'll have to try harder next time because me and you aren't done," she hissed.
Meg sighed, "Just let me talk to John. We can discuss this later."
"And we will," she promised and handed the phone to John putting it on speaker.
"This is John," he said holding the phone close, but they could still hear.
"Howdy, John. I'm Meg. I'm a friend of your boys and a real close friend to Bridget as you might have heard by now, we're linked especially by her dear Will."
Her fists clenched and Sam grabbed her hand, pulling her to stand next to him.
Meg continued, "I'm also the one who watched Jim Murphy choke on his own blood. But that was yesterday. Today, I'm in Lincoln…visiting another old friend of yours. He wants to say hi…" they waited a moment and Caleb's voice came over the phone. "John, whatever they do, don't give-."
"Caleb?" John said and the other three looked worried. "You listen to me. He's got nothing to do with anything. You let him go."
"We know you have the Colt, John," Meg said.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh. Okay. So, listen to this then," they heard a knife move and heard a gurgling choking sound.
Bridget gasped a hand going to her mouth as Sam pulled her close to him, she buried her face in his chest.
"Caleb! Caleb!" John shouted into the phone.
"Can you hear that?" Meg teased. "That's the sound of your friend dying, now let's try this again. We know you have the gun, John. Word travels fast. So, as far as we're concerned, you just declared war. And this is what war looks like – it has casualties."
"I'm gonna kill you, you know that," he threatened.
"Oh, John, please. Mind your blood pressure. So, this is the thing – we're gonna keep doing what we're doing and your friends and anyone who has ever helped you, gave you shelter, anyone you ever loved – they'll all die unless you give us that gun."
"Okay," he said quietly in defeat.
"Sorry? Didn't quite hear that?"
"I said okay."
"There's a warehouse in Lincoln. On the corner of Wabash and Lake. You're gonna meet me there."
"It's gonna take me a day's drive to get there."
"Meet me there at midnight tonight."
"That's impossible," he told her. "I can't get there in time and I can't carry a gun on a plane."
"Oh then I guess your friends die, don't they? If you do decide, come alone." She hung up then.
"That bitch…" Bridget said, almost shaking in fury as she moved a step away from Sam.
Dean asked the next question, "What do we do?"
"I'm going to Lincoln," John answered.
"What?"
"It doesn't seem like I have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people will die. Our friends die."
"Dad, the demon is coming tonight for Monica and her family. That gun is all we've got. You can't just hand it over," Sam told him.
"Who said anything about handing it over? Look, besides us and a couple of vampires, no one's seen the gun. No one knows what it look like."
"So, what, you're just gonna pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?" Dean asked.
"Antique store," John corrected.
"You're going to hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?" Bridget asked, hands on the dresser, still reeling from talking to her.
"Look, as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference," he said.
"Yeah, but for how long? What happens when she figures it out?"
"She won't," Bridget said. "Because I'll kill her before she does…"
"No, you won't because you're not going."
"Like hell I'm not!" she exclaimed.
"I'm not taking you, Bridge. You're staying here."
"No, I'm going to kill her. I've been waiting for this for four years, John."
"And you'll have to keep waitin'."
"She killed Will!" she yelled in her anger.
"You're not going and that's final!"
Bridget growled in frustration and slammed her hand on the desk, it cracked in half under the power of her resentment and she kept her back turned, trying to calm down with deep breaths.
"I'm sorry, Bridge…not this time. I just need to buy a few hours…"
"You mean, for me, Bridget, and Dean…you want us to kill this demon by ourselves…" Sam said.
"No, Sam, I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school. I want Dean to have a home. I want Bridget to have her old life back…," he was in tears now. "I want Mary alive…I just…I just want this to be over."
Bridget turned back with tears in her own eyes, her anger forgotten. He wanted it to be over, just like Sam did, wanted to go back to a normal life. She knew there'd be no normal life after this, least mot for her and probably not for Dean…but to have this step over, to have Yellow Eyes and Meg dead would be a relief.
There was complete silence as they stood by John's truck at the side of the road. Dean had left to get the "gun" while Bridget and Dam plucked weapons from the truck, in hopes something might injure this damn demon or Meg, but she knew Meg wasn't going down easy. She'd been thrown out a window and survived.
Dean's car pulled up to the side of the road and he held a bag that held the fake gun. "Did you get it?" John asked when he was close enough.
Dean handed him the gun and Bridget took a deep breath, still feeling the dread in her. "You know this is a trap, right? That Meg wants you to come alone and she'll lure us straight to you. She's smart, John, and she's not easy to kill."
"I can handle her. I got a whole arsenal loaded- holy water, Mandaic, amulets."
"She's tricky…she's difficult…"
"Dad…" Dean started.
"What?" he asked, pausing to look at his eldest son.
"Promise me something?" he asked seriously.
"What's that?"
"This thing goes south, just get the hell out of there. Don't get yourself killed, all right? You're no good to us dead."
John paused a moment, taking it in. "Same goes for you. All right, listen to me," he took the real Colt out of his coat. "They made the bullets special for this Colt. There's only four of 'em left. Without 'em, the gun is useless. You make every shot count."
"Yes, sir," Sam nodded.
"I've been waiting a long time for this fight. Now here it is and I'm not gonna be in it," Bridget opened her mouth to say something and John stopped her. "Bridge, I know you'd trade with me in a second, but she wants me…this your fight now, for your brother, your nephew, for Lydia…" he looked at his sons. "For your mother and Jessica…you finish this. You finish what I started. You understand?" he handed the gun to Dean who put it in his coat pocket.
"We'll see you soon, Dad," Sam said confidently.
He nodded with a smile, "I'll see you later…" He got into his truck without another word and drove off.
"Later," Dean said as the truck disappeared into the distance leaving them behind. Bridget touched her necklace, silently hoping that her brother and Will would look out for John…would look out for them all.
She sat in the back seat, sketching from a picture she had had the night before of a man sitting in a calling circle, his arm in a sling, and a demon coming forth with a smile on his face…or the drawing of a body on fire, a burial ritual of some sort since it lay on a platform of sticks, wrapped in a sheet. Like most pictures, she had no idea where it came from but knew they always happened.
"Maybe we can tell there's a gas leak," Sam said from the front seat. "Might get 'em out of the house for a few hours."
Bridget snorted, putting her sketch book away, "Yeah, and how many times has that actually worked for us?"
"Could always tell them the truth?" he suggested.
Bridget and Dean gave him a knowing look, Dean shook his head. "Nah."
"I know. I know, I know. I just – with what's coming for these people -."
"Sam," Dean interrupted. "We've only got one move, and you know it, all right? We've got to wait for that demon to show itself, and then we get it before it gets them."
He nodded his head, "I wonder how Dad's doing…"
"I'd feel a lot better if we were backin' him up," Dean said.
"I'd feel a lot better if he were backin' us up," Sam said.
"And I'd feel a lot better if I was kicking Meg's ass," Bridget added.
"Any insight on that, Bridge? What's going on there?" Dean asked her.
"I'm not psychic per say. I just see things in dreams and draw them and nothing has come up so far from my sketches on the warehouse and Meg," she said, flipping through her pages, pausing curiously of one with three people pinned to the wall unmoving and Yellow Eyes standing there, that could be them pinned by him in Rosie's room, in which case she had nothing after that but the crash drawing and the broken arm and burning.
"This is weird," Sam said suddenly.
"What's weird? Besides our lives?" Bridget asked still studying the drawing.
"After all these years, we're finally here. It doesn't seem real," Sam said.
"We just got to keep our heads and do our job," Dean told him.
"Yeah, but this isn't like always," Sam told him.
"True."
After a moment Sam cleared his throat, "Hey Bridge…"
"Yeah…" she said, eyes on the drawing.
"I wanted to thank you."
She eyed him now, "For what?"
"Being there for me and listening, really listening and understanding me. Helping me out with all these weird things going on. Just wanted to tell you that…"
She glanced at Dean who was just as perplexed. She nodded her head, "You're welcome..."
He went on, "And Dean, uh…I wanna thank you too?"
Dean looked at him, "For what?"
"For everything. You've always had my back, you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone, I could always count on you. And now…I don't know. I just wanted to let you know – just in case."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, are you kiddin' me? Kiddin' us?" he gestured at Bridget who had leaned over the seat, forgetting the sketch for now.
"What?" he asked.
"Don't say, 'just in case somethin' happens to you', I don't wanna hear that freakin' speech, man. Neither of do. Nobody's dying tonight. Not us, not that family, nobody – except that demon. That evil son of a bitch ain't gettin' any older than tonight, you understand me?"
Sam nodded.
"Good," Bridget added as Dean pulled out his phone. "Because I'll be damned if anyone else I care about dies." She sat back, picking up the sketch book to study the picture, something about it told her this wasn't right.
Dean hung up , "Dad's not answering."
"Maybe Meg was late. Maybe cell reception's bad."
"Yeah, well…"
Bridget couldn't take it anymore, "Sam, look at this," she handed him the book. "Is that Rosie's room?"
Sam looked at it and shook his head, "No, no that's not it. Why?"
Bridget stared at it again…it was a warehouse room…wooden walls, wooden table, the Colt laying on it. The Demon wasn't going to die in Rosie's house…this was all a set up for something bigger…and they'd already walked right into it.
She opened her mouth to tell them but Sam beat her to speaking, "Wait, listen," he said as the radio turned to static. He tried to tune it but got nothing. They looked up just as the lights in the house started to flicker madly. "It's coming!"
Bridget dropped her sketch book, running out of the car with the brothers towards the house. Dean was quick to pick the lock and they went inside. Not even a moment later, Monica's husband, Charlie, came at them with a baseball bat. He swung at Dean who pinned him to the wall. He struggled to get lose. "Get out of my house!" he yelled.
"Mr. Holt, please," Sam said trying to get him to calm down.
"Be quiet and listen," Dean shouted at him. "We're trying to help you, okay?"
"Charlie?" Monica's voice came from upstairs. "Is everything okay?"
"Monica, get the baby!" he shouted at her.
"No, don't go in the nursery!" Sam shouted and he and Bridget took the stairs after her. They entered the nursery and it was just like the vision. Monica got pinned to the wall, being raised to the ceiling just as Sam came in behind Bridget. The demon looked at them with fiery eyes and Sam raised the gun.
"No!" Bridget yelled and reached too late as he fired, wasting a bullet. Monica fell to the floor as Yellow Eyes disappeared.
"Where the hell did he go?" he asked.
"Dammit! You had to wait til he formed, he was still shadow!" she shouted at him, hurrying to the crib.
"My baby!" Monica shouted as Sam helped her up.
"Bridget's got her," Sam reassured her.
She grabbed Rosie out of the crib just as it burst into flames and hurried out of the house behind Sam and Dean who had dragged a still pissed off Charlie outside. Bridget handed Rosie to Monica.
"You get away from my family!"
"Charlie, don't! They saved us," she cradled Rosie close. "Thank you. Thank you all…"
Bridget felt her necklace vibrate before she could reply and touched it, turning to look up at the burning house. The silhouette of the demon stood there.
"It's still in there!" Sam said and started moving towards the house.
Bridget and Dean grabbed at him, "Sam, no!" Dean yelled.
He wrestled against their hold, "Let me go! It's still in there!"
"Burning to the ground – it's suicide!" Bridget yelled at him.
"I don't care!"
"We do!" Dean yelled and let go of him as he stopped struggling. The three watched as it disappeared from the window. As it did, her necklace stopped moving.
Not long after they were back at the motel where Dean was trying to call John and Sam was still brooding on the corner of the bed.
"I'm telling you, this is a huge trap," Bridget said biting at her thumb and pacing. "We fell right into it."
"Something's wrong," Dean nodded hanging up the phone. "Dad's not answering," he looked at Sam. "You listening? I said something happened."
"If you had just let me go in there, I could have ended this all."
"Sam, the only thing you would have ended was your life," Bridget told him.
"You don't know that," he said with a shake of his head.
"So what? You're just gonna sacrifice yourself, is that it?" Dean asked him.
He stood up, "Yeah. Yeah, you're damn right I am."
"That's not gonna happen – not as long as I'm around," Dean told him.
"I won't let you be that stupid either," Bridget told him.
"What the hell are you both talking about? We've been searching for this thing forever. It's the only thing we've ever cared about."
"Sam, I wanna waste it. I do, okay?" Dean said calmly. "But it's not worth dyin' over."
"What?"
"I mean it. If hunting this demon means you getting' yourself killed, then I hope we never find the damn thing."
"That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom," he looked at Bridget. "That think killed your family."
"You said yourself once…no matter what we do, they're gone. And they're never coming back," Bridget said.
"No!" he shouted angrily. "Don't say that."
"It's true, she's right," Dean agreed.
Sam grabbed him by his shirt and pinned him to the wall. "Don't you- not after all this, don't you say it!"
Bridget put her hand on his arm, calmly, standing next to both of them. "Sam…"
"Sammy…" Dean said emotionally. "Look…the four of us, that's all we have. And that's all I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barley holdin' it together, man." Sam let go of Dean with tears in his eyes and she dropped her hand from his arm, taking a step back as Dean went on. "Without you and Dad and Bridge…" he stopped unable to speak anymore.
"Dad…" Sam said as if remembering. "We should try calling him again."
Bridget pulled out her cell, unable to stand anymore emotional moments. "I'll call him…"
She held the phone to her ear and her eyes widened, breath freezing at the voice that came from the other end, "You three really screwed up this time…"
"Meg," she growled causing Sam and Dean to freeze in fear. "Where is he?"
"You're never gonna see him again. Tell his boys their never gonna see their father again."
The three exchanged a look of anger and concern…they had fallen into a trap after all. Bridget had a feeling things were about to get worse…a lot worse.