It has come to my attention that I forgot to mention when this story takes place. For those of you keeping track, I've written this as a potential season twelve, and I'm pretending everything from season eleven has been resolved (as it likely will be). So there you go.
Also, huge shoutout to the wonderful AlexHamato who has been a tremendous help in the editing/revision department. She also happens to be an excellent writer and I encourage you to check out her work.
"I didn't say it wouldn't work," the taller of the two figures argued as they sauntered into the room. "I said that we shouldn't try it."
My heart skipped as the door swung closed. The lights flickered on and, for the first time in over a thousand years, I laid eyes on my sons. An inaudible gasp escaped my chest as my mind exploded with excitement laced with shame, and it took everything within me not to let these emotions, or any emotions, show through. I swallowed hard past a lump in my throat as my boys eyed the ashen remains of the Vetalas.
Keep it together, I commanded myself. You're a demon for fuck sake. Act like it.
"You must be Maddox," Dean said without fear, his green eyes sweeping over me.
"You must know Cole," I commented dryly, successfully keeping my voice from cracking. My eyes flickered up at the trap on the ceiling. "You knew I'd be here." I glanced back to Dean. "How?"
"We followed the sulfur brick road," he replied with a cold smile. "You weren't that hard to track."
"You set me up?" I wondered out loud with mild amusement.
"Kind of," Sam reluctantly admitted. "The Vitals were obviously real."
"We figured you'd be looking for them," Dean added. "So we let it slip there was a hunter in town and where they could find him."
"Clever," I acknowledged with a nod of approval before I gave them a suspicious look. "Can I ask why you two went through all the trouble to trap me?"
"We just wanna talk," Dean said calmly, putting his hands up to show me he was, for the time being, unarmed.
"Fine. Talk."
"Why are you hunting?" Sam asked with genuine curiosity. A short laugh escaped my throat.
"You set this whole thing up to ask me that?" I laughed, amused but annoyed. I glanced between Sam and Dean, studying their hardened expressions. "No," I realized, answering my own question. "You wouldn't have bothered if you were just curious about my motives." I narrowed my eyes accusingly. "You plan on killing me."
The gravity of the situation I had unwittingly walked into struck me like a violent gale blasting across a stormy sea. It was strange enough, standing six feet in front of my own sons without them recognizing me, without them having any inkling of who they were talking to. But my sons hunting me? Threatening to kill me? That was a concept too outlandish for me to properly process. For a moment, it struck me as humorous, until I recalled just how much the demons had come to fear the infamous Winchesters. And then I wondered if they had gotten good enough to stand a chance against their old man.
"That depends," Dean said, and loosely folded his arms across his chest.
"On what?"
"Why you're hunting," Sam said, then added, "What is Crowley up to?"
"Fuck if I know," I replied shortly with a shrug. "I don't work for that asshole."
Sam shot a quizzical expression at Dean, who looked just as skeptical.
"How do you not work for Crowley?" Sam asked.
I hesitated. They already knew more about me — demon me — than I felt comfortable with. But I knew I needed to cooperate, at least a little, if I wanted to walk out of there without a fight. And I did.
"Crowley doesn't know I'm topside," I grudgingly supplied them with a half truth.
"You broke out of Hell?" Dean asked, looking somewhat impressed by the suggestion. "To hunt?"
"Well, no," I admitted. "I broke out because Hell is… well. You know. You've both been there."
"So why hunt?" Sam desperately wanted to know. I shrugged.
"I got bored," I lied. "Can't a demon hunt monsters without being questioned?"
"No," Dean replied, his eyes narrowing slightly at me. "He can't."
I sighed in frustration and eyed my sons, keeping the twinges of pain I felt from surfacing. While part of me was glad they couldn't recognize their dear old dad, our reunion was a little crushing. But then, I guess I don't know what I was expecting. I was a demon after all, and they were hunters. Hunters I had trained to hate demons more than anything else on the planet. They were just doing their job. Old me, John, would have been proud. New me, demon me – "Maddox" – was annoyed.
"Are we gonna do this, then?" I asked impatiently, casually shifting my weight as I looked between my boys.
"Do what?" Sam replied with a look of confusion, cocking his head slightly to the side.
"What you trapped me to do," I said, rolling my eyes. "Or, what you're going to try to do."
"You don't think we can kill you?" Dean questioned in a challenging manner, and raised a brow.
"I don't think you realize who you're dealing with," I replied with unwavering confidence. "I don't even know why you're so intent on getting rid of me. I'm not making deals of killing people."
"Not yet," Sam said. I gave him a cold look.
"I don't kill people," I swore through gritted teeth, flexing my fingers into hardened fists.
"Yeah?" Dean challenged skeptically. "What about your meat suit?"
"Meat suit?" I echoed, appalled by the term. "He's a human being for Christ's sake, not a goddamn puppet."
Sam and Dean exchanged a mystified expression, finding my reaction unusual.
"Did he just...?" Dean began to question.
"I think he did," Sam nodded, eyeing me suspiciously.
"My vessel is fine," I informed them. "For the record, I asked his permission to possess him. You kill me, you kill him." I paused. "His name is Max, by the way."
An uncomfortable look flitted across Dean's face. He shot Sam a questioning glance, who shrugged in return. Neither of them seemed to know what to do with me, or if they even believed me.
They turned around and huddled close together, dropping their voices in a half-assed effort to make their conversation private.
"Do you trust him?" Sam whispered.
"Fuck no," Dean shook his head. "Never trust a demon."
"I know," Sam agreed. "But what if he's not lying about his… vessel, or whatever? I mean, he's obviously some kind of hunter."
"True," Dean acknowledged. "But that's today. Who knows what he'll be hunting tomorrow?"
"Ghosts," I spoke up. Sam and Dean slowly turned to face me again, not entirely pleased I had interrupted their less-than-private conversation. "Probably," I added with a nonchalant shrug. "Or vamps. There sure are a hell of a lot vamps these days."
My boys frowned at my casual banter, clearly unamused.
"Look," I began with a calm voice. "I know you don't trust me. I don't blame you. I'm a demon. I get it. We're not a type to be trusted. But this whole macho demon-hating showdown. Can we just get it over with?"
"You seem pretty confident that you'd win," Sam observed. He stood straighter, and puffed his chest out to make himself appear more intimidating. "You do know this is kind of what we do, right? Professionally?"
"Oh, I know who you are," I said with a thin smile. "But I highly doubt you've ever gone up against a demon like me."
The brothers each raised a curious brow. They had dealt with cocky demons before, low-level demons who foolishly thought they could be the ones to do what Lilith and Alistair and Crowley could not. But they could tell I wasn't being brash. They could hear the truth in my voice. I was nothing like the others.
Not that I wanted to fight my boys, of course. That was the last thing I wanted to do. But I couldn't see them just letting me go. They didn't go through all the trouble of setting me up to just let me walk out of there.
The door silently creaked open behind Sam and Dean. When nothing entered, the brothers shrugged it off, presuming a gentle breeze had brushed open the door with the broken latch. Only there wasn't nothing, and it hadn't been a breeze; Freya had quietly slipped into the room. Her stance was rigid, ready, as she moved with her body low to the ground, stalking Sam and Dean. She bore her teeth and positioned herself to pounce.
"No!" I barked a harsh command, staring Freya in the eye as she abruptly sat with a heavy shame. Sam and Dean looked between each other before giving me a look of confusion.
"Hellhound," I casually explained, motioning to my companion that sat just behind them.
"Hellhound?" Dean echoed with a gulp. He swiveled around with discomfort, his eyes searching the room for signs of the beast. "Why is there a Hellhound here?"
"She's mine," I lightly explained. "She thinks you're holding me captive."
"Aren't we?" Dean inquired. A grin found its way across my lips.
From my inner jacket pocket I withdrew a silver plated pistol. I held it up for them to see, carefully keeping the barrel aimed away from them. Before they could react, I aimed at the outer circle of the trap painted on the ceiling and rapidly discharged three bullets, all shot in a straight line that effectively broke the seal. My boys exchanged an uncomfortable look, visibly unsettled by the extreme lack of effort it took for me to break free of their carefully planned trap.
"No." I coldly informed them as I shoved my gun back into my pocket.
I shouldered Dean out of the way as I casually strolled past him and Sam.
"Come, Freya," I whistled as I walked through the open door and into the motel parking lot. My companion happily obeyed, frolicking playfully at my feet as I headed towards my truck.
"Why didn't you just break out when we found you?" Sam's voice called from behind me, his curiosity temporarily greater than his desire to stab me.
"You two would have killed me," I explained with my back still turned as I approached the old black Ford. I opened the passenger side door and patted the leather seat, wordlessly inviting Freya to jump inside. She accepted the offer with vigor and allowed me to scratch her behind her ears. "You'd try, anyway," I added with an air of confidence. "That's no way to build trust."
"And why do you want us to trust you?" Sam couldn't figure out my angle.
I turned to face the hunters, who stared at me with an uncertain interest. From my jacket pocket I extracted a hard pack of cigarettes, and withdrew one. I lit it with a silver zippo as I pondered my response. Of course I wanted them to trust me. I was, after all, their father, and what father wouldn't want his children to trust him? But I couldn't tell them this, not when I was trying to keep my identity concealed, and I instead considered what a demon – a more demony demon – might say.
"Honestly," I finally said with a breath of smoke. "I don't give a damn whether you two trust me or not. I just want you to leave me alone and let me hunt in peace."
It wasn't true, not wholly anyway. I didn't really want them to leave me alone. But I didn't deserve to be there with them, either.
"What's with that, anyway?" Dean asked, unsatisfied with the response I had first supplied them with. "Demons don't generally go around hunting monsters."
"Old habits die hard."
"You were a hunter?" Sam asked with a sincere interest. I looked between them decided not to confirm or deny this. I didn't want to tip them off anymore as to who I was, so I quietly drew on my cigarette instead.
"Don't hunters usually end up in Heaven?" Dean tested, to which I responded with a disapproving grimace. "Right." Dean picked up the hint.
"Anyway," I began with an exhale of thick smoke that encircled my head in the calm humidity. "It was nice meeting the infamous Winchesters, but I think I'm going to get going before one of you tries to stab me in the face."
"Hold on a minute, Maddox," Dean called as I turned around to close the truck door. "You're not going anywhere."
"I'm not?" I challenged, spinning around to cock a brow at him.
"No way," Dean shook his head, smugly folding his arms across his chest. "If we let you go, you owe us one."
"Fine," I hastily agreed as I rolled my eyes.
"But us not saying anything to Crowley's gonna cost you another one."
My eyes narrowed at Dean who looked quite pleased with himself. Sammy glanced between his brother and me with a worried expression, uncertain how I would react and whether or not it was a good idea to ask for favors from a demon.
"You're blackmailing me?"
"Not blackmail," Dean insisted. "Let's call it quid pro quo. We keep your secret, you do something for us."
"That does kind of sound like blackmail," Sam muttered, earning him an eye roll from his brother..
"As the demon you're blackmailing, I'm seriously pissed off right now," I said. My glare slowly faded as I stared at my oldest son, whose expression was unwaveringly cold. "But as a hunter I'm a little proud. What do you need me to do?"
Sammy looked to his big brother, apparently equally as interested as I was in what Dean wanted from me. A sly smile formed across Dean's lips and a devious spark twinkled in his eye.
"We need you to break into Crowley's compound."
"I'm sorry. For a minute there it sounded like you said you want me to break into Crowley's compound."
Dean's grin remained steadfast, as if he knew exactly what I was going to do. Sam pondered Dean's proposal with interest and smiled when he concluded that his brother's plan was solid.
"That could work," he agreed.
"What?!" I barked around the cigarette that hung loosely between my lips. "No. No way. I don't give a damn what that son of a bitch has, I am not going in there."
"I guess I'll just give Crowley a call then," Dean smoothly responded. He dig his phone from his pocket and held it up in front of him in an exaggerated effort to peer at the smooth screen. "Look at that." Dean paused to turn his phone around to show me Crowley's name across the bright screen with the number "666" beneath it. "He's even on speed dial."
I shifted uncomfortably as I narrowed my eyes at him. It was surreal, the way Dean spoke to me. He had always been the eager and obedient son, the one who wouldn't dream of talking back to me, let alone blackmailing me. Yet here he was, treating me like I was just some… demon.
"Dude," Sam said with his nose wrinkled. "Why do you have Crowley on speed dial?"
"We… talk a lot," Dean struggled to produce an excuse. "For work stuff. Shut up." He returned his focus on me. "Should I hit call?"
I breathed out angrily through my nose and folded my arms across my chest. I was cornered, and I had two options; risk outing myself to Crowley, or let Dean tell the king I was free. Either way, I was screwed.
"Wait," I spoke grudgingly with a heavy sigh before Dean could hit the call button. I growled in a low, demonic huff, and narrowed my eyes as they waited expectantly for me to say something more. "You two are assholes."
"I'll take that as a yes," Dean said with a triumphant grin, and he placed his phone back into his pocket.
"What do you need me to do?" I asked as unenthusiastically as possible.
"Crowley has a grimoire," Dean explained. "We need him to not have it."
I waited for him to elaborate, but nothing more was said.
"That's all I get?" I asked, feeling a strange hint of disappointment.
"That's all you get," Dean confirmed.
"Me not beating the crap out of you for trapping me." I motioned to the motel room across the parking lot. "That doesn't buy me a little trust?"
Not that I would have. But they didn't know that.
"It wasn't for nothing," he assured me. "We won't make you ride in the trunk."
"Wait," Sam interjected. "He's riding with us?"
"Yeah," I said. "What?"
"Yeah," Dean said with a shrug. "To make sure he actually does this thing and gets it to us," he explained. "I don't want to make this grimoire…" He trailed off temporarily, waving a hand as he searched for the right word. "Stuff a… thing."
"A thing?" Sam echoed.
"Yeah, you know." Dean nodded. "The thing that consumes a better part of a year. I'm done with that. I just want to go back to hunting ghosts and wendigos and shit."
"Fair enough," Sam agreed. "Just hunting monsters would feel kind of like a vacation."
"Then it's settled," Dean said with a tiny, half sincere smile. "Road trip to Uncle Crowley's summer house of evil."
"Don't call him that," Sam shook his head disapprovingly. Dean gave Sam a "come on" look, but quickly realized what he had said was a little creepy.
"Right," he admitted with an awkward cough. "Shall we?"
"Now?" I asked.
"Now."