Careful What You Wish For: Season 1.5
The Road Less Traveled
Chapter Five
Do Sleeping Dogs Lie?
Yesterday
As soon as they'd all woken up, midafternoon, Dean made coffee. Jessie set to work. Sam was fascinated, taking notes, as Jessie set up a bowl of quartz crystal on the dining room table. He'd never seen a scrying spell done from start to finish. Jessie even answered his questions without hesitation. Natural spring water was the best, but the water pulled from the well into the house wasn't treated with any chemicals, so it was nearly just as good. She only put an inch or two of water into the bowl. The dried blossoms she floated in the bowl were marigolds, and she sprinkled a dash of nutmeg over the surface of the water as well.
"Nutmeg?" Sam asked.
Jessie nodded. "It's used more often for incense-induced visions, but.. I like the smell of it. It keeps me calm." It reminded her of happy times, cooking pies in the kitchen with her grandmother. Cooking was the first step to learning potions.
"What's the hammer for?" Dean pointed at the implement as he delivered coffee, first mug getting set by Jessie's left hand, and the second being handed to his brother. Dean went back to prep his own, as Jessie demonstrated the mallet's purpose.
She struck the side of the bowl gently, and a low, mellow bong rung out through the room. The water within rippled and danced, the agitation filling the air with the scent of nutmeg. As the sound began to wane, Jessie dragged the rubber end of the mallet around the exterior of the bowl, causing it to sing that low mellow tone, with a slight rise and fall in pitch as she went round. No words were said, just the music of the crystal bowl, and the ripples of the water within.
Sam looked from bowl to Jessie and back again, taking note of how her eyes unfocused. She stopped causing the bowl to sing, but still held the mallet as she leaned closer to the water.
"They're at an old cabin in the woods. I.. I know that place. Becky and I used to play there when we were kids... that's where they took the stone. It's... it's on the ley line.." As Jessie spoke, Sam looked into the water again, but there was nothing there. "Shit... They're going to try to break the stone..."
She dropped the mallet, abruptly snapping into focus on the present room again.
"Can they do that without the book?" Dean asked, sipping his coffee.
"I don't think so. I couldn't hear them really well, but I think they're coming back for it. Is Be- Is the Becky thing still outside?" Jessie fished the marigold blossoms out of the bowl, crushing them in her fingers before depositing the dust in the trash.
"Yep, she got smart though. Sitting in her car across the street now, instead of just standing on the sidewalk like a creeper. Not that your sister's a creeper." Dean tried to have some sympathy.
"You'd like Becks. If she heard you say that, she'd be sure to bump into you accidentally-on-purpose to make you think she really was creeping you." Jessie smiled fondly recalling her elder sister's delight of the absurd. The water and nutmeg got dumped down the sink, but she did it in a way that the water was sure to swirl as it drained.
"So, we need to be there stealing the diamond back, while they're here trying to steal the book?" Sam nudged them both back on topic. Not that he wanted to derail his brother playing nice with someone who should be considered the enemy, but there were bigger things to worry about here.
"Basically, yeah?" Jessie looked at Sam with a shrug, picking up her own coffee. It smelled strong. Before tasting it, she headed for the sugar. "If we make it like the house is empty, then they're sure to seize that opportunity, right? If we drive off in your car, we can circle round the back to get back inside."
"One of us will have to go for the gem." Dean reminded.
"I can do that. I know where the cabin is." Jessie offered.
"Not alone you're not."
Jessie looked puzzled at Dean as she stirred a few spoonfuls of sugar into her coffee. "The two of you have a better chance against three of them than just one does. Right?" The question was directed at Sam, who held up his free hand to plead the Fifth on the matter.
"The Devil's Trap is finished in the foyer. Sammy'll have no problem dealing with a couple of demons. We're old hats at this."
Sam's glare carried a heavy flavor of an exasperated dude shot at his brother. Dean's return look had trust me, I know what I'm doing written all over it. Dean wasn't about to let a witch solo with this blood diamond. Not after what they'd learned last night during Demon Gemstone Storytime.
Her witchy ancestors had worked with the Holy Roman Empire during the Inquisitions to bind and seal away Mammon, the demon of avarice, in exchange for not being murdered for their practices. Instead of turning the diamond over to the Church, her ancestors had fled, consumed with the need to be the only person to possesses the diamond. For generations, the witches of her family used the power of the gemstone to amass wealth and power, until one daughter stole the gem, wrapped it in another layer of binding spells, and ran away to join the Puritans, a religious sect that avoided material wealth. The anathema of Mammon's practices. The cycle broke, but here they were, dealing with demons trying to break their leader out of a gemstone.
Dean wouldn't let the cycle start over again. "I'll go with you to the cabin. Sammy can handle things here." They had time to prep and plan. Sam had more than enough time to try to change his brother's mind.
Later that night
The Impala was stowed in the overflow parking of a condo complex roughly a mile down the road. Jessie led them into the woods, and gave Sam directions back to the big house. Bundled tight into her jacket, Jessie mashed a knit cap down over her hair and began the long slog into the forest.
The calf deep snow was exhausting. Dean kept thinking he should fill the silence, but kept deciding instead to save his breath, and hers. Instead, he kept mentally going over his supplies. Holy-water bullets, the Glock Nine, a flask full of holy water. But he really hoped they wouldn't run into any demons. He needed an easy smash and grab. A win for the team, anything really.
Clear skies made the air that much colder, but the moonlight through the skeletal, naked trees gave them more than enough illumination to navigate by. The snow reflected it, casting the entire world into this odd blue hue that Dean found quite comforting.
"It's up ahead," Jessie whispered as Dean stopped beside her. She pointed through the trees. Lurking like something out of a horror movie, the cabin was very abandoned, and very decrepit. The roof sagged under the weight of moss and leaves and snow. Even the walls seems to bow inward trying to shoulder it. No panes of glass existed in the windows, and the door was rotted off it's hinges.
"You used to play here?" Dean couldn't imagine any girl ever wanting to play in something so grimy and dangerous. Weren't girls supposed to be smarter and less daring than boys? "Just seems, pretty dangerous for kids."
She continued to survey the small clearing around the cabin. There were tracks everywhere, booted feet coming and going. It was impossible to tell if anyone remained behind. Dean's worry was kind of cute in a way, worrying about her as a little girl playing in such a dangerous spooky place. "I threw my first spell when I was five, in a temper tantrum, because I wasn't allowed to sit in on Becky's lesson."
"Five? Is that?"
"Unusual, yes. Unheard of, no. I got to sit in on her lessons after that. I learned fast, faster than Becky did. I have a natural affinity for living things." Jessie shrugged. Talking about her childhood immersed in magic wasn't high on her list of things to do. Getting this done, and done fast, was, however. Taking a deep breath, Jessie reached down and grabbed Dean's hand, pulling him into the clearing. That moment was as good as any other.
After about thirty seconds of being led by his hand, Dean wriggled himself free. Two hands were better for aiming the Glock, after all. The hard-packed snow around the cabin was a sure sign that the place was occupied regularly. So he assumed it was occupied now. Checking the windows first, he gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the gloom inside.
Sigils painted the walls. Most of them he recognized as part of a demon-summoning spell. If there had ever been furniture, it was all rotted away. In places, as he ventured slowly inside, the floorboards were spongy, giving beneath his weight. He tested each step carefully before committing to it. The cabin was one room, little more than a trapper shack. That made him feel marginally better. Jessie followed slowly behind him.
"Summoning, and... binding?" She touched her fingertips to a few of the sigils near the bottom of the front wall. "Can demons access the knowledge of the person they're possessing?"
That was an oddly specific question. Dean shrugged. "Sure, I guess they can?" She shot him a look at his uncertain tone. "I'm not the lore expert, Sam is!"
"I get it! I just.. if they can, my sister knows about the only good hiding place in the cabin, and I don't think she ever figured out I knew about it too. She used to hide the things that boys gave her before she was allowed to date. I found Mason's engagement ring before she got the nerve to tell our parents." Jessie knelt on the floor and shimmied forward. The old stone fireplace looked long dormant, probably even a hazard if anyone ever tried to light a fire there. But Jessie reached her hand up inside the flue and felt around for a few moments.
Dean kept watch on the windows. "How old was your sister before she was allowed to date?"
"Twenty. She's been with Mason since forever though. He asked her to marry him on her twenty-fifth birthday, and she'd never told our parents they were even dating." Jessie laughed softly. She never lived down the passing of her own twenty-fifth with not even a steady boyfriend to show for it. "It was almost impossible to keep that secret when I found the ring stashed up here. Ah-hah! Yes!" The laugh turned into a triumphant grin as she extracted her prize.
Shaking cobwebs and dust from her fingers, Jessie revealed the silk-wrapped object to Dean. Carefully, she edged back one fold, until the watery-red color of the blood diamond was visible. As soon as she exposed the gem to the air, it began whispering to her. Furrowing her brow, she hastily rewrapped it, but the whispers continued. The stone went into her jacket pocket, zippered shut.
"Let's get out of here." She shivered, turning towards the door.
But sitting in the door, like a good dog waiting for a treat, was a German Shepard. It's ears perked up and oriented to listen to them. It tilted its head, curiously, regarding them. Then, turned it's pointy muzzle to look over its shoulder, moonlight striking it's face just right. Dean pushed Jessie until she was behind him. The dogs eyes were flat black.
A quick glance out the window showed dozens canines more, slinking out of the treeline, bodies low, every one of them with lightless black eyes. Demon. Possessed. Dogs. A summoning ritual, with a binding component. Dean decided not to wait until the dogs attacked. He shot the Shepherd blocking the door with a holy-water infused bullet. The dog leaped away in shock and bolted, yelping in pain, before tripping in the snow, and plowing muzzle first into a heap. Black smoke spiraled away from the body, dissipating into the night.
Dean jumped into the space the dog had occupied, and started taking shots down at the other encroaching dogs. "Any bright ideas here?" he shouted back over his shoulder as he dropped a charging Great Pyrenees, the dog's white fur blossoming with scarlet.
"I'm working on it!" Jessie's voice was shaking. Her hands were unsteady as she dropped to a crouch and knocked a hunk of snow off her boot. Melting it with her hands, she painted a pair of marks with water on the floor. Panic nearly made her forget an important piece. Spitting in her hand, she slapped her palm across the two sigils and looked out the door past Dean's legs.
"Je t'endors!"
Dean heard the click of an empty magazine, the slide racking open to show the Glock was out of ammo. He threw the gun at the closest dog, a damned Corgi that looked like it wanted to tear his balls off. Before the dog could get close enough to lunge, it's eyes rolled back in it's head, and it turned into a skidding dog-loaf across the snow. Spinning, Dean stared at Jessie.
"I can't hold them like this for long!" Her face was screwed up in concentration. She didn't need to tell Dean twice. He grabbed her hand this time, and pulled her to her feet. Together they ran across the snow, through the strewn bodies of various canines, most alive, but sleeping, temporarily.
Present Day
"How soon do you think they'll graduate to rocks?" Dean asked, peering out the window at the growing mob.
As if to answer him, the window he stood beside shattered as stone flew through it. Sam looked at the rock, then at his brother. "I would've lost that bet." Sam admitted.
"Jessie, any chance you can pull that Sleepy Time thing again?" Dean looked over to the witch sisters. Jessie was still trying to defend herself against the accusations of her elder sister. But she was sagging, leaning against the railing of the stairwell. He regretted asking as soon as the question was out of his mouth. And he was glad she didn't hear him.
"I swear one of them just shouted 'suffer not the witch to live'." Sam couldn't believe how wholeheartedly the people of the town bought into the whole Witch Trial ambiance. "Jessie! We've got to destroy that thing."
She heard his shout, and looked his way. He pulled the Kurdish dagger from his side, and laid it on the floor, kicking it over to her. "Use that. It kills demons; it's gonna have to kill whatever's trapped in there!"
"What if it doesn't?" Jessie knelt to pick the dagger up, but then, lacked the strength to stand up again. She ended up sitting cross-legged at the bottom of the stairs. She looked up at Becky for guidance.
"He's right. The only way out of this mess is to destroy it. Give it to me if you can't do it." Becky held her hands out for the stone and dagger.
Jessie didn't offer the dagger. Instead, she looked up at her sister puzzled. Another rock came through a window, narrowly missing Sam's shoulder in the process. Jessie had a nagging feeling that something wasn't right.
"Can you buy me some time?" Jessie finally asked her sister. "Just... stall them, distract them? Anything?"
The question seemed innocent on the surface. But Becky hesitated. And the feeling of unease that Jessie was dealing with intensified. Unfolding her legs, Jessie slowly pushed herself an inch or two away from Becky, ensuring she was just out of reach. Somewhere upstairs, another window broke, from another hurled rock. Dean watched horrified as someone threw a torch, but missed. The firebrand bounced off the side of the house and doused itself as snow melted into water around it's landing spot.
About fed up with what was taking so long, Dean turned to snap at the sisters, and get them into high gear, when he had a sudden realization.
Sam had been sitting on the front steps waiting for them.
"Sammy? How long did you leave Becky alone for?" The question was the tipping point.
Becky's eyes flicked back, and she lunged for her sister. Jessie proved to be a difficult target, rocking onto her back and kicking her sister in the chest. She then rolled and scrambled away as Sam and Dean abandoned their spots at the windows to wrestle Becky's meatsuit.
Demons never returned that fast. Never to the same host, not within a matter of minutes. Sam couldn't wrap his brain around it, even as he fought to keep her arms pinned back behind her back. Dean was shouting at Jessie.
"Now! Do it now!" The urgency of his shouts spurred her into action. A torch cartwheeled through the shattered window and landed in the foyer, feet away from the rucked up throw rug.
Fumbling with the zipper of her pocket, she lost moments inside of panic. The uncut diamond clattered against the wooden floor, rolling twice when she dropped it. The whispering rose in volume as the silk wrap fell away.
-two drops is all it takes. Feed me freshen me take me as your own. Power is yours, power to take, to own, to rise above and lord over. Power to show you are better than your sister, power to show you shall own the city. Feed me and all this and more is yours for the taking..-
Kneeling over it, Jessie ignored the struggle happening feet away. A knife against a diamond? She knew it wouldn't work, but she had to try. Laying the sharp edge of the blade against one of the irregular grooves in the uncut crystal, she leaned down against it, using her weight to lean in.
The whispering in her ears began to howl. Outside, the people of Salem began to howl in unison with it. Becky screamed, but ceased fighting as her body shook with seizures, black smoke pouring from her mouth and nose.
Keeping pressure on the hilt, Jessie laid her other hand against the back of the blade, adding more pressure. Heat rolled from the gem, hissing and spitting as sparks threw from the slow fissure forming in the diamond. Dean stomped the flaming torch out while Sam made sure Becky was still breathing after her second possession. Mammon's howls in her head became missives, words, and promises, screamed at the top of incorporeal lungs.
The voice promised eternal wealth, eternal youth, if she would give but a single drop of blood to the stone. The heat of the Kurdish blade against her palm burned, pain spasmed her muscles as she fought against the instinct to close her hand fully around the blade. The blade sunk another quarter inch into the diamond, the resounding crack that echoed through the house followed immediately by Dean's update on the scene outside.
"Everyone just dropped to the ground.. they're smoking out! Keep it up, Jessie! It's working!"
She couldn't hear his praise. The voice of the gemstone screeching to a crescendo of pain and agony. The Kurdish blade burned into her palm, her fingers began to go numb. The burn cauterized as it formed, but one tiny, single drop of scarlet slid down the flat of the blade. It kissed the edge of the stone.
The blade split the diamond neatly into pieces, the blade slamming down against the hardwood floor. A shockwave of energy released as the two pieces of the gem fell to either side, knocking Jessie back from her crouch, and sending her sliding across the floor on her ass. The fist-sized diamond was split into two uneven parts, both rocking idly on the floor. The bloody color of the stone ebbed and faded, leaving behind a pristine clear diamond.
Closing her eyes, Jessie tipped her head back against the wall. She couldn't bring herself to open her eyes even as she heard her sister's groggy voice wondering what the hell was going on. Hands were touching her, strong fingers tipping her chin to one side, and then seeking the pulse point at the edge of her jaw. The sound of relief from him was little more than a sigh.
"Take a nap, Jessie," Dean whispered. "We got this from here."
