A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry for the long wait. I'm at my dad's for the holidays and he doesn't have wifi. Anyway… have a Christmas present. Feels for everyone! ncsupnatfan: Glad you enjoyed! Spoilers! ;) Angeldonut: Sorry! I didn't mean to let it go so long, the reasons are listed above.
I do not own Supernatural or its characters.
Chapter 39: A Painful Reminder
Sam walked the halls, opening doors, looking under furniture, desperately searching everywhere he thought a toddler could possibly hide. Dean walked behind him, like an annoying shadow that he couldn't shake. Finally Sam turned to him in frustration, "Dude. What are you doing?"
"I'm helping. Two sets of eyes is better than one, right?"
"Right. But, uh… Look, if he doesn't want to see you, then he's not going to show up. So… uh… why don't you… I don't know… Here, why don't you go guard the pool."
Dean looked confused, "The pool?"
"Yeah. We don't want to risk him falling in, after all."
The blond man shrugged, "Okay."
Sam stared after him as he walked off, a troubled expression on his face.
Little Dean lay in bed, desperately bored and wondering what was going on. He had considered getting up and tracking down one of the four other people in the house, but his head had started to spin as soon as he tried to get up and he thought better of it.
The door creaked open, and Sammy walked in, standing there watching him. Dean grinned, "Sammy!" He beckoned to him.
Sammy remained where he was. He didn't know how he felt about Dean right now, not after Dean had betrayed him like that. This one may have been younger, but it was still Dean. He still didn't care enouph about him to tell him the truth. Finally deciding this was not where he wanted to be, he turned around to walk back out.
Dean watched him leave, chest tightening with pain. Why had Sammy left him alone? His brother had never done that before. What had he done wrong? He turned over on the bed, trying to get in a better position to sleep. He sniffed a little. Sammy didn't seem to want him anymore.
1985
Normal, Illinois
A woman sat in her kitchen, eating dinner. The doorbell rang, and she rose to answer it with a sigh. She opened the door.
A man stood outside, "Hey. Are you Millicent Winchester?"
"Yeah. What is it?"
His eyes turned black and he smiled, "Oh, don't worry. Nothing you can't give me."
Realizing her mistake, Millie slammed the door and locked it, running further into the house in search of weapons. Black eyes meant demons, she was pretty sure. That meant… salt, holy water, iron, certain knives… maybe a few other things. She heard the door blast open and knew she had to move quickly. She could already hear the demon walking through the house.
Thinking of something, Millie ran into the kitchen, grabbing a knife and plunging it into the water boiling on the stove. The demon chuckled, "Really? You think that's going to save you? A pig sticker and some hot water?" Still moving backwards, the woman grabbed a container of salt, tossing it into the demon's eyes so that he fell down, screaming as though sprayed with Mace. Taking advantage of his momentary lapse, Millie poured the salt onto the wet knife, holding both ready as the demon stood back up, laughing, "I'm sorry, you're going to have to do better than that."
"Oh, don't worry." She ran forward with a yell, plunging the salt-coated weapon into the creature before making a break for the window. A moment later she found herself pinned against the wall.
The demon pulled out the knife, eyeing the glaring woman with a snarl, "You're going to pay for that."
"Christo."
He flinched in pain, eyes flashing black, "And that."
She spoke louder, "Christo."
More flinching, "Stop it."
"Christo!"
"Shut up!"
"CHRISTO!"
He slapped her, hard, turning her head to the side. She lifted it back up, looking him straight in the eyes as she spoke, softly this time, "Christo."
He smiled at her, "Well aren't you a determined one. That hurt. Don't worry, I just want some information. You cooperate, you won't get hurt. Well," he shrugged, "Not too much."
"Go to hell."
The demon smiled, "And who's going to send me there, hm? You? Why don't you just whip out an exorcism, pry me out of this meatsuit."
She breathed hard, staring at him as she tried to think.
"Don't worry, I'll wait." When nothing happened, he chuckled a little, "See, truth is, you don't know one. Truth is, you're not a hunter, or a legacy, or anything. You're just a scared little girl whose daddy went away."
"Yeah, well he took one of yours with him."
He grabbed a chair from the table, moving it to the center of the room, "Oh yeah, he sent that demon right back to hell. Management wasn't too happy with poor Ricky. You know, he's still burning?"
Millie smiled, "My heart breaks for him."
The demon drooped some coils of rope beside the chair, "Hm, yes, I'm sure it does. But you want to know the kicker? The best part of this whole big story? Your daddy? He got himself a pair of black eyes."
She stared at him in horror.
"Oh yeah, he broke quick."
"You're lying."
"You sure?" He held her gaze for a second, then turned back to his work, "But then, he's not the only one you lost, is he? Your mom, your dad, that sweet little hubby of yours. You know he was screwing that red-haired bitch."
"No."
He nodded slightly, "Yes. They were going to run off together. Or they would have, if Abaddon hadn't gotten her claws into Juliet."
Millie closed her eyes. Lies, they were all lies.
He stood up, looking around, "Hey, where's your son? Oh, wait, he's gone to, isn't he? Just disappeared, took off, not even a phone call? Well, ain't that something. Your whole family, just gone poof. Think it's something personal?"
"Shut. Up." She paused, a faint memory coming to her, "Ex… Excor…"
He walked toward her again, grinning, "Hey, look, maybe you can get yourself out of this. Come on, it's only forty-nine and a half more words." She stopped. That was all she knew. She couldn't remember any more. She had never tried to learn it. She had never had a reason.
The demon frowned, "Guess not." He released her from the wall and she ran for the window, only to be grabbed by the hair and dragged toward the chair. She let out a scream of shock and pain, and the demon shoved her in the chair, once again hitting her across the face, "Now, now, let's not have any of that. Don't want to scare the neighbors. After all, you don't want any civilians to come through that door, do you?" She stared in the direction he pointed, picturing innocent people coming in and getting torn to shreds by the monster in front of her.
He smiled, "That's what I thought. You hunter types, you're all alike. 'Saving People.' That's your job right? Heh. That's cute. So you'll keep quiet, for Joe the Plumber's sake." He paused, "Well, not to quiet. I do want you to talk after all." He tied her into the chair, then leaned over, resting his hands on the arms of the chair, "And when you get downstairs, I want you to give them a message. Tell them Crowley's building a faction. He wants to take out the top, trade in 'King of the Crossroads' for 'King of Hell.' And remind them that I'm the one who told you."
She glared up at him, "Tell them yourself."
He chuckled, "Now, I only want one little piece of information. Shouldn't be hard at all."
"Okay. I'm all ears."
"How do I find Cain?"
She stared, "You must be joking."
He pushed himself off the chair, "I want a spell. There's got to be a way to track it. The Mark or the Blade. Spell, now."
"I don't know about anything like that. Look, I haven't seen, or heard, or had anything to do with any of this supernatural stuff in almost thirty years-"
He interrupted, "Twenty-seven."
"Twenty-seven. Right. I don't know anything."
The demon sighed, "You're not going to make this easy, are you? Okay. Good. I was hoping to have some fun."
