The day was dark and cloudy. Its ominousness made the world empty and Sam and Dean drove along in silence.
Sam was absentmindedly doing the Times crossword they'd picked up at a Gas-N-Sip hours before. The next word pulled him out of autopilot. Somnambulism. Or, sleepwalking.
He shot a quick look at Dean in his periphery and noted how tired he looked. The past five months he'd spent, doing everything in his power to track down Kat. But, he was inconsolable, and no amount of killing monsters or roughing up Rowena's followers would mask the fact that he was sleepwalking through it all. He had the ideal image of finding her and everything going back to normal once they did; the closest to daydreams he'd ever had. But what would happen when they finally did? Who said she'd forgive and forget?
Sam worried for this brother as they crossed the lines into New Hampshire. They'd left Tennessee with their only credible lead. It was their only one in the seven months they'd spent moving throughout the country trying to follow her pattern.
They had begun by searching for omens, and going where they were because they knew Crowley was after Kat, and where she was, demons must be.
6 months ago: Ohio
A group of demons had made their home in an abandoned mall. The imagery of the place was absurd. The contents hadn't been fully vacated before its closure. This left signs dangling, due to half-finished construction and disregarded items in the stores. Clothes were strewn on the floor and broken gadgets gathered dust. There was absolutely nothing of value, which is why vandals had left them there.
Sam felt like the place should still be full. Seeing the dirt, grime, and little bit of plant life over-growing from pots seemed extremely out of place.
"No one's home," said Sam as they had finished scoping out what had been the food court. His gun lowered but his hands remained at attention, ready to spring it back up when necessary.
"Well, we've gotta get them a house warming gift," said Dean. Normally, it would've been accompanied by a sly smile but he had compartmentalized his humor since Kat's departure.
"Like what? We can't take out a large group of demons all at once, and if there is a ton of them we will be outnumbered," answered Sam, feeling desperate. This was the third nest of demons they'd come across, and each time they had little to no evidence of Kat being there, let alone where she was going.
The pair of them walked around for a few minutes aimlessly kicking stones, their minds churning.
Sam's sight happened upon a toy shop. The metal gates were half closed and he made his way over to them and got down on his hands and knees to enter. He gently touched a stuffed animal and opened a puzzle box. He was about to leave when he saw a jar of glass marbles.
"Go grab some mannequins and clothes," he called out to Dean. His mind began puffing like a locomotive as he opened it and pulled out his knife. His idea was a long shot, but if it worked they'd leave with a significant number of demons dead.
"What do you mean clothes?" Dean scoffed.
"Stuff we would wear," Sam said, ignoring the protest in Dean's voice. He made his way to the register and grabbed some wiring that was poking out from under it.
"This isn't the time for shopping Sam," Dean said impatiently.
"Just do it," Sam ordered. Dean made a face that said 'oh-excuse-me' but went anyway.
The two worked in silence as they roamed the mall looking for supplies. Dean returned with two very dirty mannequins, one of them missing an arm. Sam was hunched over the small Mason jar. He'd spent the last hour drawing devil's traps on the bag of chipped marbles with the tip of his knife.
Dean looked over Sam's shoulder. His face recognized what Sam was trying to do and he felt a swell of pride. "Demon shrapnel bomb. Sweet," he congratulated.
"They'll be trapped, and their bodies will be destroyed. They won't be going anywhere," Sam elaborated as Dean hurried to set up the mannequins that would be playing them in the rouse.
"You're a genius Sammy. I just have one more thing to add," he said, taking a can of spray paint out of his duffle. Onto the floor, he sprayed out the words Winchester – 1 and, Crowley – 0. Sam smirked as a shred of Dean's humor shone through. It may have been fueled by malice but at least, it was funny; not the vicious anger that had taken the place of Dean's wittiness.
They waited for the demons to return from whatever havoc they were wreaking. Sam hoped for the best and it was oddly satisfying as they watched the huge cloud of dust rise after the muffled boom. One outer wall, cracked a bit and the roof seemed to depress but the mall remained standing and no demons rushed out.
Present
They had left another pit stop with no concrete evidence towards Kat. The consolation that they'd taken some demons off her trail had to be enough to keep Dean's sanity.
Lately, though Sam had noticed him slipping. A month ago he had gone too hard interrogating a witch of Rowena's and broken her jaw. She'd choked on her own blood for five minutes before Sam got there. His actions were spinning into a downward spiral and everything leading up to the precipice was dark. Dark like Dean as a demon; something that reminded Sam of Dean after his time in Hell.
He knew that wasn't the person his brother was or was meant to be; which is why he'd encouraged him to seek alternative methods of finding Kat. Anything other than following demons around, really. The constant disappointment wasn't doing anything to quell Dean's aggression.
After months of living out of the Impala and motels, not returning to the bunker for fear of it being compromised after Dean's experience with mind control in Boston they were tired. They had Cas keeping an eye on it, as he devoted most of his energy trying to sense out Kat. It had been quiet, but Sam was willing to bet Dean's mental state would've been worse if they had spent even a second of their time sitting stagnant in the bunker.
Dean shifted in the driver's seat as he struggled to keep himself awake.
"I'll drive. You sleep," Sam commanded.
"No," Dean said, mustering up his reserve energy to bristle at the offer.
"Dean, go to sleep. By the time we get there you'll get a couple of hours."
He reluctantly agreed, pulling over to switch. Sam watched as he ruffled the map they were following of Kat's pattern before nodding off. Coming by the map had led them into the gray area of the supernatural and once again Sam was left wondering when they were truly desperate for an out, what weren't they willing to do?
One week previous
Dean was pissed. The pair of them had driven all night out of Michigan after narrowly missing Kat. They'd lucked out on demons loudly, and stupidly, talking about where they thought she was. Dean knew they were wrong because he knew Kat. But it had helped them find where she actually had been hiding. That was until she realized there were demons in town.
The coffee pot in the motel room was still slightly warm when they arrived and she'd left the bed a heap of scratchy blankets.
Sam thought Dean was going to wreck the room. Instead, he stuffed it all down and went immediately back to the Impala waiting for Sam to go kill the demons back at the bar, then head out to the next place on their list.
So they found themselves in Tennessee. Sam exhausted, and Dean fuming, like a matador's bull.
They pulled up in front of a bar and as Sam got out he saw a faint marking on the pavement. It looked like a chalk outline of a body had been burned there.
"Look at this, looks like a demon fizzed out here," Sam said shutting his door.
Dean came around to his side. "Yeah, I guess the omens were right, but who was hunting them. Maybe they'll have something to tell," he speculated, eyes brightening at the idea of another person to question.
"First we've gotta find the mystery person. Let's ask inside." Sam started towards the door.
The two entered the bar using their badges as a greeting. The bartender shrewdly regarded them before putting his hands on the bar and giving them his attention, and an invitation to start talking. "Have any drifters come through lately?" Dean asked, directly.
"I had a girl pass through here 'bout a week ago. Didn't stay long. Runnin' from an ex or something." The bartender shrugged.
"Was she about 5' 2"? Black, curly hair? …Pregnant?" Sam finished slowly, praying that the questions would continue on their winning streak. He felt Dean emanate hopefulness beside him and he couldn't stand the idea of crushing it.
"Yup. She disappeared, though like I said a week ago," the bartender said again passively.
"Ok thanks for your time," Dean said. He turned and left immediately.
"She was here dude. They're following her, and she knows it too. You think she's our mystery hunter? Idiots probably don't know she's gone and are still looking for doornail over there," he said all in one breath, pointing vaguely to the demon etched into the black top.
"We need help, Dean. As much as I hate to admit it we need a high-power tracking spell or something. We're gonna keep getting all of this to go off of but just missing her like we've been "
"Cas doesn't have any more mojo up his sleeve than what we've tried. We can't ask Crowley. What do you suggest we do?" Dean said with more bite than he intended to. His anger at the situation had built up and manifested at Sam; the nearest target.
"Hey don't snap at me Dean," Sam responded with as much force as Dean did. They silenced for a moment. Dean felt an immense debt to Sam. He'd stayed, dealing with his torpid mood swings and the least he could do was meet him halfway.
"I'm sorry. I just don't wanna be like dad dude. I don't want hunting to be the reason I'm not there for my kid." That was the most Dean had spoken about everything in the seven months.
"What about the nature god? Didn't say he say he didn't want Rowena in charge? I'm sure we've got a Celtic summoning spell somewhere in dad's journal. Maybe he's got something we haven't tried. He's a royal dick and I'd rather not deal, but like you said we've got nowhere else to go," Sam suggested in response. Dean smiled, thankful for his brother's patience.
The pair of them waited in a patch of forest they'd found. The spell had been easy enough to pull together which alleviated some of Dean's stress. Waiting in the forest for some omniscient creature to show, ran out with nostalgia. Like years ago when they'd just hunted and when they went rogue and worked in league with monsters, they'd done it in the cover of trees.
"What's up bro's?" came a voice from behind the tree line. Cernunnos was the same as Dean remembered, a beanie covering his greasy mop of hair and his clothes hung off his lanky body. They were slightly dirty and he smelled of sea spray. He held a sign that read, "Save the Whales!" and its sentiment matched the surfer, druggie, lazy tone in his voice.
"Star Trek fan?" Dean asked wryly, referencing the cardboard.
"Very funny. I was leading a protest, I may have just sunk a whaling ship in Japan. It'll turn a few heads when they realize I disappeared from the ship." Cernunnos spoke with an air of unimportance, like the lives he ruined in defense of his various causes were of no consequence.
"We need a tracking spell," Sam began.
"You lost the girl didn't you? Please," he began, "take care of your pets. Animals matter too," he placed his hand on his heart and closed his eyes like he was affected by the statement emotionally.
"Knock it off. We're serious. Is there any way you can track her," Sam said harshly, but kinder than Dean would have.
"I mean, I can give the performer of the spell the ability to sense her residual energy through nature, that is if she's near any. It's obscure. Not 100% effective, I'm afraid… and not without its risks," Cernunnos said regretfully.
"You sound like you're trying to sell contraceptives," Dean snorted at him.
"I know right, where was I seven months ago?" Cernunnos spat back at Dean maliciously.
Sam felt Dean restrain himself from attacking the contemptuous, entitled god. "What's the catch?" he stepped in.
"The ingredients call for more than the average amount of blood," said Cernunnos focusing his attention back on Sam.
"How much?" Dean asked impatiently.
"Enough to possibly hospitalize you, bro," he goaded, trying to rile Dean up again.
"One, I'm not your bro. Two, that's not an issue,"
"Dean, woah, think about it for a second." Sam counseled.
"Sam we don't have any more time to waste. I'll do it and you'll be there to watch my back." Sam just nodded, compelled by his brother's authoritative air.
Dean swayed slightly as Cernunnos extracted the last of the blood. He had rapidly lost color but he remained standing.
There was a map laid out on the desk of a motel room and Cernunnos dumped herbs that Sam had never heard of into the pint glass full of Dean's blood. They'd stolen it from a local bar and this was by far the cheapest, back alley ritual they'd ever conducted.
Dean slumped into a seat and placed his head in his hand waiting for the results.
Sam watched with keen interest as Cernunnos muttered an incantation and spilled the blood over the map. Rather than spill out everywhere, it retained a shape and seemed to separate into little markers. Almost like the pins travelers stick to places they've been. The dots clustered around each of the small towns Sam and Dean had been to chasing demons, and a few they hadn't.
The pattern was clear from Kansas to Tennessee. The dots of blood vibrated with energy but hovered a half a centimeter off the page, leaving the map pristine. There was chaos once Sam followed the trail to the northeast. The bubbles ricocheted around as if trapped in an invisible box. They reverberated between New Hampshire and Maine. Not in clear, lines either. Each one acted of their own accord, flying around at random.
"What does that mean?" Dean asked, standing to come to the map.
"It means she hasn't decided where she's going, or the spell can't decipher between where she is now and where she last released a burst of energy, like if she was in distress or something. But there you go, at least, you have her pattern. Now, if you'll excuse me I have a protest to return to." Cernunnos made to leave but something about the desolate look in Dean's eye pulled him back. "There seems to be more activity around Maine. Check there first. In repayment of this debt, you can hurry up and take care of Rowena for me. I'm tired of her wrathfulness disrupting my humanitarian exploits." And with that, he'd vanished.
Dean was dead asleep on the passenger side when Sam pulled into a motel in Maine. They'd been driving for hours and had hunted before that to boot.
Sam saw a young girl standing down about fifty feet from the Impala uncrossed her arms and straighten up. She walked towards them and Sam noticed how young she looked. The girl had to be fifteen but was tall, slender and womanly. Her hair was shaved short, only a half an inch off her head and the dark hue of her skin made her look like a shadow in the dark.
"Dean," Sam snapped, slapping him across the chest to wake him up. In that time, the girl had gotten much closer to the car and she only had to raise her voice slightly for them to hear her.
"You guy sure know how to think outside the box. Another seedy motel. Good one." The girl's deep, sultry voice came as a surprise to Sam. He didn't harbor on it and they raised their guns at her in a quarter of a second.
A moment passed and the two parties stared at each other. Dean slowly lowered his gun and Sam stole an incredulous glance at him. "Dude what the hell," he asked.
"I know her." Dean took a step forward in recognition. Remembering her large fawn eyes and pixie cut. She looked infinitely different from when he'd last seen her in Boston. She had changed from the black dress that must've been Rowena's standard issue, to green cargo pants and a Ramones t-shirt covered with a small leather jacket. However, the innocence remained, and Dean once again pitied her.
"Boston, yeah. Thanks for that by the way. Rowena's a real bitch with that mind control thing." The girl echoed Dean's thoughts, answering Sam's questioning glare. She did not have the hard edge to her voice, which he thought would come with her ensemble. She seemed regretful.
"Rowena has witches there against their will?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, she left senior members of the Grand Coven alive after she took over. They called us all to the tribunal saying it was a state of emergency. She was waiting when we got there." The girl's eyes held true loss and sorrow. She was a witch, and by all rights something they should hunt; she was also a teenager with very little choice.
"What so they called all the younglings to the Jedi temple and...?" Dean asked insensitively as he made a line across his throat with a flattened hand.
"That is correct, but I'm out now, thanks to that confusion your girlfriend caused." The girl spoke like she was pushing away a bad memory. "Sorry I slapped her by the way," she added. Her eyes held genuine shame at her actions. She wasn't a dark magic-hardened creature; evil at the core and Sam could see that.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Joni."
"Joni," Sam affirmed. "And you've been following us this whole time? Don't you have a family to get back to?" Sam broached.
"No, Rowena killed them in the Grand Coven execution. I'm a natural witch, so I wasn't exactly an active member of normal society, that means nobodies looking for me. We came from the faction in Shreveport, I use mostly voodoo. Herbal stuff you know. So I am here to tell you I can help. Gather information on Rowena and stuff, tell you what I know," she offered bravely.
"Ok," said Dean.
"She's smart, and it might seem hopeless but she's got fewer people on her side than you'd think. There are ways to fight the magic she's using. The magic I use comes from a different source, so they're equally matched." For the first time, the girl smiled a little. Her cheeks were full and round, only adding to her innocent look. "I was squatting in an old house and I found some stuff you might be interested in. I know there's no reason for you to trust me but if you do decide to come, I'll be at this address."
She held a foil gum wrapper aloft and then placed it on the hood of the car. Sam recoiled imperceptibly as she took a step forward because he was not shielded by the door as Dean was.
When she was gone, Sam turned to Dean who had his arms rested on the hood of the car. He saw the glimmer of hope that was barred by everything they'd encountered so far telling him this was a trap. But he knew he'd never be able to stop Dean from going because if it worked, he was one step closer to Kat.
They had called Cas for backup and the three of them didn't bother standing on ceremony and just opened the door to the dilapidated house.
Joni was sitting in the empty living room with a mug of steaming liquid next to her and a stack of small bones. She jumped when they entered and threw up her hands. Her eyes darted to the bones and back to them.
"They're from one of those rotisserie chickens I swear! Please don't shoot!"
Dean actually smiled as he took in her childish fear, "We didn't even have guns out," he said.
Joni laughed too, realizing her overzealous, ridiculous response. "Sorry, old habits die hard."
"A rotisserie chicken!" Sam burst out laughing.
The air was hopeful which is why he thought the band of misfits found it so easy to laugh. Despite not knowing each other the witch, hunters, and angel shared a brief moment of solace.
"I was trying to get some more info on this before you got here." She pushed a page of an atlas forward. There were scribbles on it. They highlighted the exact pattern Cernunnos' spell had. There were deep indents from the pressure of the pen she'd dragged over the south of Maine.
"Thank you for this," Dean said.
They'd left the young girl in Tennessee at her insistence, saying it was safer to stay as far away from them as she could. They couldn't argue.
"Dean, this could be another close call," Sam said cautiously.
"We'll just it to the list of disappointment if it is Sammy," Dean responded flatly. He wasn't paying Sam much attention, with his face buried in a laptop. He'd been skimming credit card records and cross referencing them with doctors all over the state.
"Ursula Andress," he breathed.
"Who?"
"Ursula Andress, that's her favorite Bond girl. That's the alias she used. I know it,"
"Where did she use the credit card?" Sam questioned as he jerked the wheel of the car to head towards the highway
"Beals Maine. I'm gonna call the office and see if they have a last known address." Dean jostled around in his pocket for his phone. Before he could fish it out Castiel appeared in the back seat. They hadn't realized he was gone until the fluttering of wings filled the silence.
"There's no need," he started. "She is there."
"How do you know?" Dean asked.
"The child is not warded against angels like Katherine is, once I got close enough to her approximate location, I could feel its soul. She is in an abandoned church," he finished.
"Hallowed ground. Smart," Sam said as he pressed further down on the gas.
Dean had spent the last six months living a life he thought he had left behind. He'd grown in the ten years since he'd gotten Sam from Stanford.
At that time, he had been stagnant but believed himself to be liberated from his responsibilities. He believed himself to be full grown and incapable of becoming anything more than he was in that moment.
Life had shown him that there were people that could continue to mold him. He resisted the change but those ten years had translated into another kind of adulthood for him.
He'd spent life always on the run. Not away from, but towards somewhere, something, or someone. The whole time it had been towards her.
The cliché infuriated him. It was all so expected.
He raised his hand to knock, his chest tight. Before he made contact with the wood, the door flew open. The fist he'd extended halfway to the door was caught in an iron grip. He remembered the soft but strong feel of Kat's hand as she thrust his arm behind his back.
Sam had hung back but when he saw the commotion he came running.
"Woah!" Sam cautioned. He simultaneously reached to pull Dean out of Kat's grasp.
She looked at him in the dim light and recognition dawned on her face. She hadn't changed in the months he hadn't seen her. Just that the lines on her face were harder, a symptom of always watching her back.
"Shit," she muttered.
A/N: Next chapter will bring the gang back together again. I hope that this wasn't too slow of a chapter for everyone, and that it wasn't redundant. I love reconciliations because I love seeing which way the affected parties will take the drive of the scene. Reviews would make my world go round because at this point I'm floatin' around accidental-like on a breeze. -Kelly