Chapter Twelve
Sam was woken by cool lips peppering kisses across his cheeks. When eyes opened, he was met with Lucifer's face.
"Is it time to go already?" he asked sleepily.
Lucifer nodded. "I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye, but I really should be returning now. Gabriel has called me. There has been unrest between the garrisons and I am needed." Lucifer twined his fingers with Sam against the pillows and he pressed a kiss to Sam's knuckles.
Sam didn't want Lucifer to leave, but he did his best to hide that from Lucifer. Naturally, after so long together, Lucifer saw the hesitation in his eyes.
"I will do my best to return to you as soon as I can," he said.
Sam nodded. "I know. I'm being stupid. Ignore me."
Unfortunately, it was harder for Lucifer to ignore the tears that pooled in Sam's eyes. Sam blinked and the tears began to fall. Lucifer traced their path with a cool finger. "Is this just our parting or is there more that you're not telling me?"
Sam shook his head. "It's everything; Dean, you, me, it's all getting to me."
Lucifer looked sad. "I wish I had the answers for you, Sam, but I don't. I believe that, no matter what else he feels for you, Dean loves you. As do I. There is nothing you could ever do that will change our feelings for you."
Another tear slipped down Sam's cheek, and Lucifer pulled him against his chest in a crushing embrace. Safe in the protection of his angel's arms, Sam let the tears fall and the pain take him for a moment. All the while, Lucifer rubbed soothing circles on his back and whispered words of reassurance.
When Sam had choked himself to calm again, Lucifer leaned back so he could look him in the eye. "I love you, Sam."
Sam nodded and smiled. "I know."
Lucifer pressed a cool kiss to his temple and then he was gone. Sam lie back in the bed for a long moment and tried to push down the feeling of longing that swept through him. He didn't want to Lucifer to go again. It seemed that they never had enough time together before Heaven pulled them apart. He had encouraged Lucifer to go home and deal with the angels, but that had been when he was being selfless. Now he was feeling more and more selfish, and he wanted his angel back.
Throwing back the bedclothes, he climbed out of bed and walked into the bathroom. He set the shower to running and stood at the sink and brushed his teeth. Looking into the mirror, he saw his red-rimmed eyes and miserable expression. He looked awful, and if Bobby and Dean saw him looking like this, they would know for sure something was up. He smiled, but catching his reflection, he saw it looked more like a grimace. Sighing to himself, he stepped into the shower and began the process of cleaning himself up.
He tried to focus on the good things to bring him out of his dour mood, but every positive had a downside. Lucifer had been readmitted to Heaven, but that meant he was away from Sam. He was back with his brother, but Dean hated him for leaving in the first place. They had a way to deal with a leviathan, but the main culprit was too heavily protected by wealth and fame for them to get close enough to use it.
By the time he was finished in the shower, he was feeling even more miserable. He couldn't go to Bobby's looking like this, he had to suck it up and act happy even if he was feeling far from it. They deserved better than worrying about his moods. They had more important things to deal with.
Thirty minutes later, after stalling as long as he could in good conscience, he pulled the Chevelle to a stop in front of Bobby's house. He checked his reflection in the rearview mirror and saw that it was no longer evident that he had been crying that morning. Pasting a smile onto his face, he climbed out and scaled the steps to the house.
Inside, the others were all awake and milling around the room. Dean was leaning against the counter, cupping a mug of coffee in his hands. Bobby was at the kitchen table with the newspaper open in front of him, and Castiel was skimming one of Bobby's books in the study.
"Morning," Dean said. "You okay?"
Sam smiled. "Yeah. Lucifer's gone back though. There is trouble in the garrisons."
Castiel looked up. "Trouble?"
Sam nodded. "I don't know the details, only that he had to go back and deal with it."
Castiel nodded thoughtfully.
"What's the plan for today?" Sam asked.
Bobby folded his newspaper and looked up. "Well, there's a hunt if you're feeling up to it."
"Why wouldn't I be?" Sam asked, confusion creasing his brow.
Bobby held his hands up. "No reason. What we've got so far is in that binder on the desk. I've been watching it for a couple of weeks, and it took a turn yesterday. Cas and I were going to take it, but if you're at a loose end..."
"We've got it, right, Dean?"
Dean nodded. "You know me. I'm always up for a hunt."
Sam crossed the room with long strides and picked up the binder. There were newspaper cuttings inside, telling of the unexplained killings of loggers in Southern New jersey. He skimmed through the pages and he found an article that made him raise his eyebrows. "The Jersey Devil?"
Bobby nodded. "That's what they're calling it."
Dean scoffed. "So we're hunting a myth."
"When are we not hunting what other people would call a myth?" Bobby asked. "I don't know if it's The Jersey Devil, but something's killing people down there, and they don't look like any animal killings I've seen before. Hearts are intact, or as intact as it's possible to be given that their chests are shredded."
"Sounds like our kind of gig," Dean said. "Let me just clean up and I'll be ready to go."
"Would you like me to take you?" Castiel offered.
"Nah, a drive will be good for us," Dean said. "And Baby could do with a chance to stretch her legs."
"Thanks though, Cas," Sam said.
Castiel nodded and turned his attention to the window.
Sam poured himself a mug of coffee and sat down next to Bobby at the kitchen table. He pulled over Bobby's newspaper and flicked through it as he waited for Dean to come back. He heard Bobby's heavy sigh and he looked up. "Everything okay?"
"I was going to ask you the same thing," Bobby said. "You feeling all right?"
Sam frowned. "I'm fine, Bobby."
Bobby's eyes bored into him, and Sam knew he wasn't fooled. He could see through Sam's 'fake it till you make it' act. Luckily, Dean chose that moment to make his noisy reappearance with damp hair and a duffel over his shoulder.
"We need to stop by the motel to pick up your stuff?" he asked.
"Nah, I've got a few things in the Chevelle that will do me for now."
"Right then, let's haul ass. Cas, be good. Don't let Bobby throw any ravers while we're gone."
Castiel nodded solemnly. "I will take care of him."
Sam patted Bobby on the shoulder and waved to Castiel and then followed Dean out of the house.
As he pulled his duffel out of the back of the Chevelle and climbed into the Impala, he thought that this hunt could be a step toward making things right with his brother. Hunting together had to be a good thing, right?
xXx
After two longs days on the road, they pulled up in front of the Red Carpet Inn in Hammonton, New Jersey late in the evening. Sam climbed out of the car and went into the office. There was a middle-aged man behind the counter with a beer gut and scrubby beard.
"What can I get ya?" he asked, not taking his eyes from the portable TV balanced on the corner on the desk.
"Double room for a week please," Sam said. He thought it was better to book for longer than they might need rather than too short a time.
The man grunted and raised his eyes from the TV at last. "That'll be three hundred even. Room thirteen."
Sam pulled a roll of bills from his pocket and counted out the money. It was strange to be using cash rather than a fake credit card, but he liked it; It appealed to his morals.
Taking the key from the clerk, he walked out to the car. "We've got room thirteen," he said.
Sam crossed the parking lot and let them into their room. It was about the same standard as their usual sleeping arrangements, with a musty smell and unidentifiable stains on the carpet. The beds looked clean enough though. He dropped his duffel down onto one and pulled out his laptop. Sitting down at the table, he flipped it open and connected to the motel's slow internet service.
By the time Dean came into the room, having moved the Impala, Sam was halfway through a wiki article on the Jersey Devil.
"You know," he said thoughtfully, "I think this might be an actual fugly."
"Of course it is," Dean said. "Why do you think we just drove two days, the scenic views?"
"No, what I mean is that it sounds like a fugly we can take out rather than searching the woods for days. Listen to this..." He read down the page. "A kangaroo-like creature with the head of a goat, leathery bat-like wings, horns, small arms with clawed hands, cloven hooves and a forked tail."
Dean laughed. "We've come across some ugly fuglys before, but that sounds like the worst. I don't know whether we should kill it or take a photo for Weekly World News."
Sam smiled. "I'd go with killing it. These are something you mess around with."
Dean's smile faded into a hard line. "Let me guess, you know what it is from your lessons with Lucifer?"
Sam shifted uncomfortably. "I have a theory."
"Of course you do. Care to share with the rest of the class?"
"It sounds like a Shantak, though why it would be killing people I don't know."
Dean flopped down onto his bed and stared up at the ceiling. "It's a fugly, isn't killing people what they do?"
Sam shook his head. "Not these. They're like Lenore and her coven of vampires. They're good, or at least they should be. They feed on animals mostly, living deep in the forests."
"This one isn't," Dean pointed out. "Anything else I need to know about them?"
"It's a skinwalker. So it could look like anyone. It's not so much with the kangaroo look, according to Lucifer it's more reptilian looking. It will have red eyes when in its creature form, and has a blood curdling scream." Sam coughed. "And it's the child of a witch and demon."
Dean snorted. "So if a witch and a demon get frisky, this the result—a forked tailed, lizard looking, fugly?"
Sam shrugged. "I think so. Lucifer said so anyway."
"Well, if that's isn't disgusting, I don't know what is."
Sam chuckled. Now he thought of it, it was pretty disgusting.
"So we're basically looking for a needle in a stack full of needles," Dean said. "I mean this dude could look like anyone, and we have no idea how to track it down."
Sam nodded, looking awkward. While he knew, at least intellectually, that it wasn't his fault, he felt like he should know more about these creatures and how to find them. He had all the facts, but no idea how to track it down. Lucifer's lessons had been all about teaching Sam the lore of the world. They'd had no idea that one day Sam would use that knowledge to hunt, as for them, there were no more hunts. Now he had to adapt everything he had learned to life on road with his brother.
"We know all the victims were all loggers," Sam said. "We can start out at the lumber yard, see if there is anything there worth looking at. That's where the bodies were found."
"You want to hang around a lumber yard on the off chance that this..."
"Shantak," Sam supplied.
"Yeah, that. You want to hang around in case it shows up?"
Sam shrugged. "It's the only idea I have."
"Fine," Dean said with a sigh. "But we can do that in the morning. I want a beer and food in that order."
Sam stood. "You want me to bring something back, or shall we go find a bar?"
Dean stretched and yawned. "Nah, I'll come with. I saw a place called Duke's on the way into town. We can go there."
Sam grabbed his jacket and the Impala keys. He had a feeling he would be the one driving tonight, as Dean had the look in his eyes that foretold of copious amounts of alcohol.
When they got to the bar, they found it was busy already, despite the early hour, and judging by the abundance of flannel and the scent of sawdust, it was largely patronized by the loggers they were there to protect.
They weaved through the crowd, finding a booth at the back of the room by the pool table. Dean threw himself into the booth and rested his elbows on the sticky table. Sam sat beside him, and rested his palms in his lap. He didn't want to get covered in other people beer.
A waitress bustled over to the table and flashed them a wide smile. "What can I get you, boys?" she asked.
Dean leaned back in his seat and a slow smile crept across his face. "Hey there. We'll take two beers and I'll have a bacon cheeseburger, please."
"Sure thing, hon," she said and then turned to Sam. "You hungry?"
"A club sandwich, please."
The waitress winked at him and walked back to the bar with a sashay in her hips.
"I think you're on there, Sammy," Dean said.
Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and Lucifer would just love that."
"Aren't you allowed to have fun anymore?" Dean asked,
Sam sighed. "It's not like that, Dean. When you have someone you love, you don't want anyone else."
"That's how it is, is it? Just you and Lucifer now."
"He's my everything."
Dean's jaw tensed. "I'm going to go play some pool. Call me when our food gets here."
Sam watched him go, confusion creasing his brow. He didn't understand Dean's sudden mood change. Was it a surprise to him that Sam wasn't interested in waitresses now he had Lucifer? He should have known that by now. Now Sam had his angel, he had no need of flings with random women. Maybe Dean thought he was judging him for how he lived his life. Whatever the reason, he had apparently annoyed his brother, when he was striving to do the opposite.
Sam was halfway through his beer and thinking about exchanging it for a belt of whiskey when their food arrived. He caught Dean's eye at the pool table, but Dean waved him away. Apparently, he wasn't hungry anymore. That or he didn't want to be with Sam anymore. Either way, it didn't improve Sam's feelings of guilt and confusion.
He took a couple of bites of his sandwich before he pushed it away. Draining his beer, he got to his feet and headed towards the bar. He pulled up a stool beside another man, and waited for the bartender to notice him.
"Not local, are ya?" a rough voice said.
Sam turned and saw that the man he had sat beside was eyeing him curiously.
"Just passing through town," Sam said. "On a road trip."
"Well, you picked a great place to come. Hammonton is a great town... at least it used to be."
Sam's brow furrowed. "It seems fine to me."
The man raised an eyebrow. "You've not noticed the destruction then." Seeing Sam's confusion, he continued. "The Barrens. They used to be the local tourist trap, but since they started clearing the way for the new development, people have stopped coming." The man pulled open a flap on his duffel and pulled out a green pamphlet. He held it out to Sam, who took it and read over the cover quickly.
"'The destruction of nature's beauty,'" he read aloud.
"Damn right," the man said, holding out a hand. "I'm Finn, and I'm one of the few remaining free thinkers in town."
"Sam." They shook hands and Sam turned the pamphlet to read the back. It was a passionate diatribe against the 'lawless development of the people's land'. "So, you're not on board with the development."
"Hell no. It's going to destroy the town. All people are seeing at the moment are the dollar signs the development and loggers are bringing into the town, but when it's all died down, and there are no more Barrens to enjoy, people will regret it. Half of these people in here aren't local. Just transient loggers coming in to destroy what's good and green. That's why you can find me, every day, protesting at the gates of their yard."
Sam had met many protesters in his life, especially at Stanford where students were always lobbying one cause or another, but he'd never met anyone quite as impassioned as Finn. He truly believed what he was saying.
Sam was about to question Finn about the murders when a logger passed behind them, knocking him into the front of the bar and knocking his drink over. It could have been an accident, the guy was huge, but Finn seemed to take it as a personal attack. He leapt out of his chair and grabbed the passing man's arm.
"Hey, asshole! Why don't you look where you're going."
The man turned and fixed Finn under his steely glare. "You got something to say to me?"
"Damn right I do. You made me spill my drink."
There was no denying Finn's bravery, he was tiny compared to the behemoth he was facing, but Sam did question his intelligence. He would get battered if it came to a fight. Sam stood and laid a hand on Finn's shoulder, sensing rather than seeing Dean coming to stand on his other side.
"Nobody wants any trouble," Sam said, turning to Finn. "I'll buy you another drink, and we can forget anything happened."
"Yeah, Finn," the logger said. "Let your boyfriend buy you another drink and we can forget all about this."
Finn surged forward, and Sam caught him around the arms, effectively holding him back. "Finn! Calm down."
"How's about we all calm down." The waitress that had served them before had come back and she was flanked on either side by two burly guys. "Now, Anslow..." She addressed the logger. "You owe Finn a drink."
The logger put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a crumpled bill. "Take this, you can keep the change. Put it towards your pamphlet campaign."
Finn surged forward once again, and for a small guy, he was pretty strong. Sam struggled to hold him. One of the guys beside the waitress clapped an arm around his shoulder and led him towards the door. "I think it's time you got some sleep, Finn."
Sam watched as Finn tried, unsuccessfully, to twist and squirm his way out of the man's grip. They disappeared out of the door and Sam breathed a sigh of relief.
"You okay?" Dean asked.
Sam nodded. "Yeah, I'm good, but I'm getting out of here. That's enough excitement for me for one night."
"I'll see you back at the motel then," Dean said.
Sam pulled out his wallet and held out a bill to Dean to cover their bar tab. Dean raised a hand.
"I don't need your money. I've got some, and I can hustle the rest."
"We don't need to hustle," Sam said. "We've got—"
"I'm not Lucifer's bitch, Sam. I don't need his money. I'll get my own the way I always have."
Sam stood with his mouth ajar. He was stung by Dean's harsh jibe, but before he could call Dean on it, he'd turned away and walked back towards the pool table.
Sighing to himself, Sam headed out of the bar and set out back towards the motel.
xXx
Sam was woken in the early hours of the morning by someone slapping his leg. "Wakey wakey, Sam. We've got shit to do."
Sam jerked upright. "I'm awake. What's happened?"
"Another killing."
Sam rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and watched his brother as he flopped down onto the opposite bed and untied his bootlaces. "When?"
"No more than a couple of hours," Dean said. "I saw the fallout on my way back here. You know the logger guy that was screwing with your buddy?"
Sam nodded. "Anslow I think they called him."
"Yeah, him. Well, he's the town's latest fatality. I caught a look at the body; it was a real mess."
Sam sighed. Anslow may have been a jerk but he didn't deserve to die.
"Where was this?" he asked.
"In an alley a block down from Duke's," Dean said.
Sam frowned. "You sure it was the shantak? Its only taken people in the forest before now."
"I'm telling you, Sam. It was no human killing. Whoever did this had some serious claws and teeth going on. Unless your buddy Finn was hiding..." He trailed off looking blank. "Finn!"
"What about him?"
"He's the thing, the shantak or whatever you want to call him. I bet you the Impala that it's him. You said it was a skinwalker, right?"
"Yes," Sam said slowly. "But that doesn't mean it's Finn. It could be anyone."
"Anyone with a grudge against loggers, one logger in particular. I'm telling you, Sam, it's him."
Sam's mind rebelled against the idea. He didn't want to think of Finn as a monster that they would have to kill. He'd seemed like a nice, normal guy.
"We'll talk to him," he said. "Ask him where he was last night. He might have an alibi."
"And he might have been chowing down on Anslow," Dean said. "Think about it. The shantak is supposed to be tame, right, living in the forest, but these loggers are taking out the forest. It has to be pissed that its home is being destroyed."
Sam nodded thoughtfully. It did all add up, even though he wished it didn't. The fact that the attack happened in town rather than in the forest as the previous ones had pointed towards Finn, too.
"We'll talk to him," he said.
"Talking's not gonna cut it, Sam, we need to know for sure whether it's him. You said it's part demon, you think holy water would work?
Sam shrugged. "I guess so. Lucifer never mentioned it."
Dean grinned. "Then we'll load up and sprinkle your buddy with a little of the good stuff, see if it fizzes." He looked pleased that they had a plan of action. He toed off his boots and threw himself down onto his bed. "Get some shut-eye, Sam. We've got a busy day ahead of us."
Sighing to himself, Sam clicked off the lights and climbed into bed.
xXx
When morning came round, Sam dragged his heels as much as possible, insisting on showering and having breakfast before they went out after Finn. He wasn't ready to face and possibly kill the man he'd met and liked. Eventually, he ran out of excuses to delay, and they set out for the lumber yard.
Dean was in an exceptionally good mood. If Sam didn't know better, he would have thought that Dean was looking forward to killing Finn. He hummed along with the radio and beat a rhythm on the steering wheel as he drove.
The lumber yard was on the outskirts of town, bordering the forest. Finn was there, at the entrance with a megaphone in his hand shouting to no one as the yard was empty. Sam guessed most of the work happened in the forest. It was to their benefit that it was empty, because it would mean less witnesses for them to avoid.
Dean pulled the car over at the side of the road and climbed out. Sam swung open his door, and followed with a heavy heart.
Finn greeted him a with a smile. "Sam, how's it going."
Sam opened his mouth to reply, but Dean got in ahead of him. "I'm Dean, Sam's brother."
Finn held out a hand for Dean to shake. "Good to meet you. What are you guys doing here?"
Dean grinned. "Sammy was telling me all about how the town is being destroyed by the logging, and as an amateur journalist. I was hoping you could tell me more about it. This would make a great article for my blog."
Sam was both amused and impressed by Dean's cover story. He'd clearly put some thought into it. It made a change from posing as cops.
"Sure!" Finn said excitedly. "Would you like me to show you what they're doing? We don't have to go far. The damage is apparently only a few hundred yards in."
"That'd be great," Dean said, putting a hand on Finn's shoulder. "Let's go."
Sam trailed after them as they rounded the yard and walked into the trees. Finn kept up a running commentary on the history of the area as they walked. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, as was Dean. The only one that wasn't having fun was Sam as he knew what was coming next.
"This'll do," Finn said, coming to a stop in the middle of a patch of trees.
"This'll do for what?" Sam asked, They hadn't come to any of the destruction yet, this was an area like any other.
Finn smiled. "There's no need to pretend, Sam. I know what you are."
Dean stiffened. "What do you know about us?"
"That you're hunters. And that you're here for me."
"I'm right then," Dean said with satisfaction. "You're the thing that's been killing people."
Finn shrugged. "I've been seeking retribution for my home, yes."
Sam sagged. He hadn't wanted to hear this.
Dean slid his hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the demon knife. "Well, on behalf of both of us, I would like to thank you for making our job so easy. Not only did you bring us out here, away from any witnesses, but you confessed. We've never had such an easy hunt."
Finn stretched his arms wide. "There will be nothing easy about this." With a sick ripping sound, he transformed. His eyes blazed red and his spine lengthened and bowed over with the weight of his large head. The closest descriptor Sam could think of was a dragon, but that didn't do it justice.
He had all of a second to process what he was seeing before the creature bowed its head and locked eyes with Dean. "Please, we don't have to do this!" Sam pleaded as he watched it crash into his brother, sending them both toppling to the ground, the demon blade falling from Dean's grasp.
Before he knew what happened, Sam felt a searing pain running across his chest and arm. He put his hand to the wound and his fingers came away slick with blood.
"Sammy?" Dean shouted.
"I'm good," he said pushing himself to his feet. "You?"
"I'm just fine," Dean said through gritted teeth, circling the creature with the demon blade gripped tight in his hand.
"Finn," Sam said, pushing himself to his feet. "You don't have to do this. Change back and we can talk."
The creature threw back its head and screamed. Lucifer's lore hadn't been wrong. The sound was like nothing Sam had ever heard in his life. It chilled him to the bone.
"Finn, please," he said again. "Don't make us do this."
Finn looked at Sam, and for a moment, he thought he had reached him. He wasn't advancing on them anymore at least.
Sam licked his lips and tried to think past the pain to work out what to say next, but it was too late. Dean used the moment that the creature was focused on Sam, and he lurched forward and stabbed Finn in the chest. He pulled back his arm and stabbed again and again. It was the demon in the alley all over again. He was a man possessed, and his eyes were dead.
One moment, it was the reptilian creature writhing in pain in the ground, and the next Finn was human again, though still mortally wounded. He raised shaky hands and looked up at Dean who was standing over him with the blade raised.
"Please," Finn choked. "Don't..."
"Too late," Dean snarled. With a practiced movement, he swept the blade through the air, cutting Finn's throat.
Sam stared in horror as the blood pooled around Finn's body.
Dean straightened and wiped the blade of the knife on the leaves of a fern. Looking at Sam and grinning, he asked, "We done here?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah, we're done."
