And if I can last thirty rounds
There's no reason you should ever have your head down
Six foot five, two hundred and twenty pounds
Hailing from rock bottom, loserville, nothing town
Text book version of a kid going nowhere fast
And now I'm yelling, "Kiss my ass"
It's gonna take a couple right hooks, a few left jabs
For you to recognize you really ain't got it bad
Until the referee rings the bell
Until both your eyes start to swell
Until the crowd goes home
What we gonna do ya'll?
Give em hell, turn their heads
Gonna live life 'til we're dead.
Give me scars, give me pain
Then they'll say to me, say to me, say to me
There goes the fighter, there goes the fighter
Here comes the fighter
That's what they'll say to me, say to me, say to me,
This one's a fighter
SIN CITY
Bobby's House
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
It was like a production line at Bobby's; time to replenish the ammunitions which we'd been going through lately. Dean and I had hit up all the pawn shops while we were in Vegas, always a good place to get cheap jewellery and other silver items. Sam had ditched us on day three in Vegas, fed up with the silver hunts and craps table. He found himself a car and took off, ending up at Bobby's.
Free of our third wheel, Dean and I had decided to go on a bit of a road trip up to Reno when we were done in Vegas, hitting the pawn shops there too. I had always preferred Reno to Vegas. We didn't make it to the Grand Canyon, there was something a little too final about going there, like it would be the final good bye or something. Eventually we found our way back through Salt Lake City, past Mount Rushmore and the Badlands, arriving at Bobby's. We'd been gone almost four weeks, and with the exception of Dean getting sick with the flu for almost a week, we'd had a great time and were feeling completely rejuvenated.
Dean was melting down the silver we'd acquired on our travels over a bunsen burner, popping out silver bullet after silver bullet. I was on salt ammo duty, pouring rock salt into the empty shotgun shells in front of me. I looked at the shells curiously, raising an eyebrow.
"What's up?" Dean asked, seeing the expression.
"Hmmm, wonder if we could do this with Holy Water..." I said with a grin, and he chuckled.
"Not a bad idea, we might have to try that...don't know if the guns would like it though," he answered.
"Maybe we should start carrying high pressure water guns," I said with a laugh.
Bobby looked over at the pair of us from his desk and shook his head like we were mad, but you could see the smile on his face.
Bobby was working on the Colt, he had been for months. He had a diagram in front of him, and a magnifying glass as he tried to figure out how it worked.
Sam entered the kitchen, glancing over at the three of us. "Hey," he greeted us.
"Hey, what's up?" Dean said to him.
"Might have found some omens in Ohio. Dry lightning, barometric-pressure drop," Sam answered, pouring himself a drink from the sink.
"Well, that's thrilling," Dean said sarcastically, concentrating on what he was doing.
"Plus, some guy blows his head off in a church, and another goes postal in a hobby shop before the cops take him out," Sam said, joining us in the library and watching us.
I shrugged, looking at Dean. "Might be demonic omens," I said.
"Or just a suicide and a psycho scrapbooker," Dean said dismissively. I looked at him curiously, wondering why he was so hesitant to jump back into work, surely he had to be itching for a hunt?
"But it's our best lead since Lincoln," Sam said to him.
"Where in Ohio?" Dean asked, still watching his hands as he continued to create silver bullets.
"Elizabethville. It's a half-dead factory town in the rust belt," Sam answered.
Dean grimaced. "There's got to be a demon or two in South Beach," he said and we all chuckled.
"Sorry, Hef. Maybe next time," Sam said with a smirk.
"Damn, was hoping I could get Beth in a two-piece and all," Dean said with an appraising glance at me. I laughed and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek.
"We could always pretend we're in South Beach," I suggested with a grin. We'd pretty much commandeered Cole's attic bedroom since she'd taken off, it was a cozy little getaway for the pair of us. Dean grinned at me and raised an eyebrow.
Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head at us, choosing to ignore our conversation and instead focus on the Colt rebuild. "How's it going, Bobby?"
"Slow," Bobby answered, his usual chatty self when it came to the colt, the truth was, it was starting to do his head in.
"I tell you, it's a little sad seeing the Colt like that," Dean commented, frowning at the pieces spread across Bobby's desk.
"The only thing it's good for now is figuring out what makes it tick," Bobby commented.
"So what makes it tick?" Sam asked, and received a stern look from Bobby for his efforts.
Dean grinned over at Bobby. "So, if we want to go check out these omens in Ohio...you think you can have that thing ready by this afternoon?" Dean asked as he stood up, teasing the older man. Sam grinned and I bit my lip, fighting back a laugh, no way was I getting into this conversation.
"Well, it won't kill demons by then," Bobby said, looking up at Dean, not amused. "But I can promise you it'll kill you." He pointed the gun at Dean and grinned.
Dean smiled, grabbing his bag and looking over at me. "All right, come on, we're wasting the daylight," he said. I put my last shell down and nodded, grabbing my own bag off the couch beside me, and hoisting it over my good shoulder. The left one still kind of ached from the bullet wound, though I was starting to think it was phantom pain.
"See you, Bobby," I said as I started to follow the boys out through the kitchen.
"Hey. You kids run into anything – anything – you call me." Bobby said and we nodded at him.
Church
Elizabethville, Ohio
I don't know why Dean had been so concerned about the daylight, wasn't like we were getting to Ohio before sundown. In fact, we drove through the night, arriving in town way before sunrise. We checked in to a motel for a few hours sleep and waited until dawn.
Nine in the morning found us on the steps to the church where the man had shot himself. We'd met with Father Gil, the priest who had seen it happen.
"There's not much left for the insurance company," Father Gil said, referring to our cover story of being employees for the company. "It was a suicide – I saw it myself."
"Well, this shouldn't take long then," Dean said to him, following him as he stepped down from the front steps near the altar and followed Father Gil toward the back of the church.
The father stopped and pointed up to a balcony above the pews. "That's where Andy did it. It's the first time I'd seen him in weeks. He used to come every Sunday."
"When did he stop?" I asked, looking up at the balcony.
"Probably about two months ago, right around the time everything else started to change," he answered, looking at us.
"Change how?" Sam asked, frowning.
"Let's just say this used to be a town you could be proud of. People...cared about each other," Father Gil said, glancing up at the balcony again. "Andy sang in the choir, and then one day, he just wasn't Andy anymore. It was like he was..."
"Possessed?" I prompted.
"You could say that," Father Gil said with a nod. "Gambled away his money, cheated on his wife, destroyed his business. Yes, like a switch had flipped." I exchanged a curious look with Dean who was writing in his notebook.
"Father, did you know the man who killed those folks in the hobby shop?" Sam asked.
"Sure, Tony Perkins," the Father said to us. Sam nodded, looking at us.
"Tony Perkins. Good man," Sam said.
"Would you say that his personality suddenly changed one day, too?" I asked gently.
The father looked at me, contemplating. "I never thought about it that way, but … yes. About the same time as Andy – about two months ago."
"Well, thank you, Father. Appreciate your time," Dean said to him, finishing up his notes.
Sam was pensive as we left, talking in hushed tones.
"Two months ago, we open up the devil's gate, all of a sudden this town turns into Margaritaville? It's no coincidence," he said urgently to us both.
Motel Room
Dean chuckled as soon as he saw the mirrored ceiling in our room. He sidled up behind me, sliding his hands around my waist and pulling me back into him where he gently ground his hips against mine. "Fun..." he said with a kiss to the back of my neck. "Hey Sam, you might need to..." his words trailed off as the door across the hallway opened and a young man stepped out wearing a grey fedora, and brown and white jumpsuit, the whole thing was finished off with a thick gold chain across his neck.
"Richie?" Dean asked, still holding me in his semi-compromising position. The guy looked over at us, and we walked up to him.
"Hey, Dean... Winchester, right? And Beth?" We nodded as a scantily clad girl appeared next to Richie. "This is my sister, uh, Cheryl," Richie said weakly.
"Hey," Cheryl said dismissively to us.
"Cheryl," Dean said, giving her the once over, I smirked and shook my head.
Richie pulled out a wallet and handed Cheryl some money.
"There," he said, as we all watched her sashay down the hallway in high heels. "Well, you know... step-sister," Richie said with a grin to Sam, who had appeared behind us.
"Come on in," Dean said. "This is our brother, Sam."
"Hey, how you doing?" Richie said with a smile, shaking Sam's hand.
"Not too bad. How do you guys know each other?" Sam asked, looking at me curiously and closing the door.
"It was while you were in school," I said to him with a smile.
"It was that succubus, in Canarsie right?" Richie asked, looking over at Dean.
"Yeah, yeah," Dean said with a nod, pulling his shirt out of his pants to hang loosely around his waist. I found myself getting distracted by the idea of mirrors on the ceiling, and Dean in a suit, with a tie.
Richie turned to Sam, his eyes lighting up. "Oh man. You should have seen the rack on this broad. Freakin' tragedy when I had to gank her."
My mouth dropped, now hang on a minute!
"Whoa, whoa. Wait. Who killed her? If I remember, your ass was toast until we showed up," Dean said, gesturing between me and himself.
"Oh, I forgot what a comedian this guy was," Richie laughed, looking at us. He glanced down at his phone when it started to ring. Dean talked right over the top of the tone.
"Richie, Richie, I told you then and I'll tell you again – you're not cut out for this job. You're gonna get yourself killed," Dean said and I was nodding my agreement.
Richie glanced at Dean and put the phone to his ear. "Talk to me," he said to the caller. He then looked at Dean and said: "FYI Winchester – words hurt." He shrugged and turned away slightly, listening to his phone. "No, it's not a good time, baby. Later."
Dean was throwing me an incredulous look, I shrugged, slipping out of my jacket, revealing my red halter top underneath. I looked in the mirror and checked out the scar from my latest gunshot wound, grimacing. Dean grinned and turned back to Richie who had taken a seat on the couch.
"You find anything in this town, anyway?" He asked the wannabe-hunter.
"Uh, no. I got nothing," Richie said. "Oh wait a minute. You mean as in demons and whatnot?"
"Yeah," I said with a raised eyebrow. What the hell was he talking about?
"Yeah...no, I got nothing." Richie said with a grin.
"Typical," Dean said, moving to start pulling some regular street clothes out of his duffel. "What about your sister back there?"
"Honestly, she definitely had the devil in her, but she wasn't no demon, you know what I'm saying?" Dean looked curious. "Right. Seriously. Church guy, hobby-shop guy – they were lunch meat by the time I got there. Maybe they were possessed, but I can't prove it." Richie stood up, eyeing me off as I pulled some jeans out of my own bag.
"You know Beth, you're looking particularly … devilish yourself... in that top," he said to me, raising his eyebrow and winking at me. I smirked and shook my head.
"Sorry Richie," I said, slipping my arms around Dean's waist, "I'm a one-guy kind of girl, got my own brother to attend to." I laughed, Dean looked surprised at the reference, it'd been a while since I called him my brother – I was completely playing up the whole Richie – Cheryl – siblings scenario. Dean grinned, putting his arm around me.
"Naughty," he whispered in my ear, and I giggled.
"Well you know, the offer is always there... whenever you want to upgrade to a real hunter," he said, looking at me confidently. Dean rolled his eyes and Sam decided to jump in and rescue Richie before either Dean or myself hit the man.
"Yeah, well, let's just say the demons are possessing people in this town... you know, raising hell..." Sam said.
"But why would a demon blow his brains out?" Dean asked, looking over at Sam.
"For fun?" Richie suggested. "He wrecks one body, moves to another. Like taking a stolen car for a joyride."
"Anybody else left in town who fits the profile – nice guy turned dick – that's still breathing?" I asked. Dean sat down on the bed and pulled off his shoes with a grunt. He stood up again and moved to the head of the bed, noticing for the first time the Magic Fingers attachment to the bed, he threw me a salacious look and I shook my head with a smile. Dean loved those things.
"There's Trotter," Richie said, drawing our attention back to him.
"Who's that?" Sam asked.
"He used to be head of the Rotary Club. Then he turned bastard all of a sudden. Brought in the gambling, the hookers. He practically owns this whole town," Richie said.
"Know where we could find him?" Sam asked.
"Oh, he'll be at his bar in a few hours," Richie said.
Dean clapped his hands, getting everyone's attention.
"Excellent! Great! Well, Sammy, sorry dude but you are on your own tonight, time to get you another room," Dean said and Sam sighed, looking at Dean.
"Dude, I just unpacked!" Sam said, gesturing to all his clothes on the bed.
"Hmmm," Dean said thoughtfully, looking over at me. "Maybe we can book out the honeymoon suite?"
I laughed and shook my head, "I'll see what I can arrange," I said, pulling my jacket back on and heading for the door. "You get the bags!"
"Man," I heard Richie say as I started to pull the door shut behind me. "You have it made!"
Dean laughed, "Yes, yes I do man." He said.
I shook my head, well, one couldn't say life was ever dull around Dean and Richie.
Motel Room
A couple hours later
The mirrors on the ceiling were starting to make me self-conscious now we were just lying around in bed cuddling. I pulled the sheet over the top of me and Dean groaned. "Awwww, I was enjoying the view," he said, turning to lie on his side next to me, running a hand idly over my hip. The vibrations from the Magic Fingers, which he'd just put on, were giving me all sorts of naughty ideas.
"Huh, is that right?" I asked, grinning and sliding in a little closer, edging my knee in between his legs, snuggling right up next to him.
Dean groaned and ran his hand down my back and over my buttocks pulling me snugly against him. "Think we can send Sam on his own to this bar? I'm sure Richie could back him up," he said as he started to kiss along my collarbone and up my neck.
"Uhhh, no, not really... Richie is more likely to get him killed," I murmured, wanting nothing more than to go along with his plan.
"That Richie, man, I can't believe he is taking the credit for killing that succubus!" Dean grumbled.
I laughed. "Must suck to be shown up by a girl hunter," I said, tracing big circles along Dean's back, softly rocking my thigh against his groin. He responded with a groan, rolling on to his back and pulling me to lie on top of him. I propped my arms on his chest and looked down at him, smiling.
"You can show me up anytime cherry-pie," Dean said with a smile. "So long as you give me something to ease my poor ego."
"Something like this?" I asked, trailing kisses along his jaw to his lips, gently nipping on his bottom lip before sliding my tongue in to slowly circle his own. When I pulled back Dean moaned, and nodded.
"That's good," he said, "that helps a lot."
There was a knock on the door and I groaned, looking up at it. Sam let himself in and stopped short, seeing the pair of us on the bed, wrapped in nothing but a sheet.
"Geez guys! You've had two hours already!" He complained, turning his back to us.
Dean laughed and smacked me on the ass, moving to sit up as I slid on to the bed beside him.
"Well you know, mirrors man, gotta try every position," he teased Sam with a chuckle.
"Dude, just shut up, all right?!" Sam said, shaking his head. "All right, you know what, just... meet me at my room in fifteen minutes, okay?" He didn't even wait for an answer, storming out the door and pulling it shut.
Dean glanced down at me and grinned. "Something we said?"
I laughed and shrugged. "You'd think he'd be used to it by now," I said with a grin. "Shower?"
The suggestion left Dean with another wicked look on his face. "Oh yeah, shower sounds good," he said, chuckling.
Trotter's Bar
I think we were all a little flabbergasted when we got into the down-town area. The boarded up little factory town of Elizabethville was vibing, full of people walking around drinking, flirting, laughing and having a good time. Sexy girls in short skirts and low-cut tops were everywhere – it was like Mardi Gras.
"I thought you said this was some boarded-up factory down," Dean said as he got out of the car, taking in our surroundings.
"It is," Sam said, looking at a girl in front of him who was practically falling out of her halter top. "At least, it's supposed to be."
Dean smirked and then raised an eyebrow at me with an appreciative look at the red halter top I was wearing with jeans. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's do some research."
We headed for the inside of the bar, passing a car with the door open, a woman who was all legs and little more gestured to Dean in a suggestive manner; Dean couldn't help himself, stopping and taking in the legs. I gave him a second and then gently took his arm, pulling him away. He slipped his arm around my waist and shook his head with a smile. Oh yeah, this was going to be fun.
Trotter's was even busier inside than it was out on the street, people were crammed into every nook and cranny, slamming back shots, chatting, flirting, dancing, having an all around good time.
Richie came wandering up to us wearing a fresh outfit of white tank top with a pale orange and yellow Hawaiian looking shirt on, he'd lost the hat and had his hair slicked back.
"Oh Richie, look at you," Dean said, nodding at him.
"Hey," he said to us with a smile.
"Bringing satin back," Dean commented about his shirt.
"Oh, you like this? Try Thai silk – Canal Street. You have to pay $300 for threads like these, easy. Cost to me – fuggedaboutit," he said.
"How much is 'fuggedaboutit'?" I asked, raising my eyebrow at him.
"Ah, forget about it," Richie said with a wave of his hand. "That's Trotter over there. He sits there all night. Can't touch him." He pointed to a middle-aged man with a shaved head, wearing a black suit over a black shirt, up on a second landing that overlooked the bar.
"So, what do we do now?" Sam asked, looking around.
"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I think I'm gonna do a little investigating with that bartender," Dean said with a grin, looking at the sexy woman pouring shots at the bar; I smirked and nodded, a drink right about now sounded good, but I was seriously going to have to find myself a sexy man to flirt with to get some back at Dean shortly – I contemplated just how many phone numbers I could get tonight, it was time to get back in the lead with our phone numbers competition.
Richie looked at Dean and shook his head. "Easy. Me and her, we got a little somethin'-somethin' lined up for later," he said to Dean, who smirked disbelievingly at the man.
"Yeah, right," he snickered, checking out the girl again.
"Stings, don't it?" Richie said. "All right. I got to hit the head, release the hostages. Be back in a few." Richie wandered off and Dean looked at me confused.
"No way he gets a girl like that. I mean, look at her. You could fit that ass on a nickel," Dean said, making his way up to the bar.
"You think so?" We turned to see Father Gil sitting at the bar next to us, looking around.
"Oh. Sorry, Padre," Dean said, looking a little sheepish.
"Knew you kids would find your way here. They all do," the Father said to us.
"No offence, but what are you doing here, Father?" Sam asked.
"Like it or not, you go where your flock is," Father Gil said, casting a concerned look around at the bar's patronage.
"Plus the clergy drinks for free," the bartender said, pouring him a drink with a grin.
"True," Father Gil said with a smile, "and a certain bartender owes me a confession."
"Not in this lifetime, Father," she said with a smile, taking a shot of tequila herself.
"I better see your butt on Sunday," Father Gil said, turning to stand up and look at Dean. "Nickel or no nickel." He looked back at the girl. "See you Casey."
"What can I get you guys?" Casey said to us, leaning on the bar.
"What's your speciality?" Dean asked with a grin.
"I make a mean Hurricane," she said without missing a beat.
"I guess we'll see about that," he said then glanced at me. "We'll take two."
Sam snickered and looked at us both. "You guys drink Hurricanes?"
Dean smirked and looked at me, I turned to Sam. "We do now," I said with a cheeky grin. Sam laughed and looked around the bar. His expression changed almost instantly and he grabbed Dean's arm.
"Hey," he said, and we all turned to see a man at the pool table brandishing a gun.
"Hey, what are you doing?!" The man playing pool exclaimed, taking a step back at the sight of the gun. We all moved quickly through the crowd for the man, but were too late. A gunshot went off and I saw the pool player fall to the ground before the shooter turned the gun up and pointed it under his chin.
Dean tackled him to the ground before he could pull the trigger and Sam pulled out a flask of holy water, splashing it on the guy. There was no reaction, he wasn't possessed.
"What are you doing?" The man said to us, confused. "He slept with my wife. That bastard slept with my wife!"
"Somebody call 911!" I called out to the crowd and Casey reached for the phone. I looked up at Trotter who was standing on the next level to the bar, watching the scene unfold with a cold, unreadable expression.
A short time later the bar was cleared of people, and the police were cuffing the man and leading him away.
"Too many cops here. I say we roll," Sam said anxiously beside us.
"Just be cool," Dean cautioned, leaning against the bar and watching the shooter as he was taken outside. "Poor jerk. Only thing possessing him was a sixer of Pabst."
"So what's the deal then? People in this town getting possessed or not?" Sam asked.
"I don't know. Maybe it is just what it is – town full of scumbags," Dean said with a shrug. I was leaning against him, looking at my nails.
"Yeah, maybe," Sam said. I shivered at the sudden cold now there was a lack of body heat to keep one warm. Dean looked over and me and shrugged out of his leather jacket, draping it around my shoulders. I slipped my arms into it and smiled, sliding my arm around his waist.
A police officer came up to us with a smile. "You boys ready for your mug shots?" He asked, Dean and Sam shifted nervously. "The photographer's gonna be here in a few and take your picture for the local paper," he explained.
Dean softened and looked at the officer with relief. "Be an honour, officer. What a thrill." When he walked away, Dean and Sam exchanged a look.
"Yep, time to go," Sam said and we all stood.
"Wait a second. Wait a second," Dean said quietly, looking around.
"What?" I asked, looking up at him.
"Where's Richie?" Dean asked, I paused and looked around. The man simply hadn't come back from the toilet earlier, it was very unusual.
Trotter's Bar
Next Morning
Dean was sitting at the table, a large burger in front of him, completely untouched as he looked at his phone again for the umpteenth time.
I thanked the bartender and took our beers in hand, returning to the table and putting them in the middle, sitting down to my own burger and taking a bite. Dean ignored both the burger and the beer, a concerned look on his face. I swallowed my bite and looked at him.
"You do realise there's red meat within striking distance, right?" I asked him, and he looked over at me with a sigh.
"How many times I got to tell Richie, he's gonna get himself in trouble?" Dean asked.
"Dean, you're assuming he's missing. I mean, maybe he just bailed," Sam said. I shook my head.
"He's a moron," I said, taking a sip of beer. "He's a sweet moron, but he's not a coward. I don't think he'd just bail."
Dean nodded his agreement. "Yeah, we got to go find him," he said.
Sam sighed and looked at us both. "All right. You guys do that, meanwhile I'm going to trail this Trotter guy."
"Yeah?" Dean asked as I took another bite of my burger.
"I don't know. Something about the way he looked at Beth last night," he said, glancing over at me. I raised my eyebrow.
"You saw that?" I asked, and he nodded.
"Maybe there is something going on here," he mused.
Trotter's Bar
Later that night
We'd looked all over for Richie and now we were on our way back to find Sam. I dialled Sam to see whether he'd found anything new, and he answered the phone anxiously.
"Beth," he said quickly.
"Sammy, hey," I said.
"Yeah. Hey. I can't talk right now," he whispered.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just meet me at the bar in twenty minutes, okay?" He hung up without waiting for an answer.
"Sam!" I said into the dead phone.
"What?" Dean asked, looking over at me.
I shrugged. "He said to meet up at the bar in twenty minutes."
Dean frowned and got that look about him that almost always meant he was plotting something dangerous.
"Okay, good idea, well I have a plan," Dean said. "But you ain't gonna like it." He looked at me with a grin, and I stared at him, sighing.
Five minutes later we were standing out the front of the bar.
"You know what, you're right, I don't like this plan Dean," I said to him, grasping the lapels of his jacket in front of me as I looked at his chest.
"Oh come on, what are you jealous?" He asked with a grin, grabbing me at the hips and pulling me in to him.
"Of course I'm jealous! The girl is hot, Dean. But that's not my point. It's dangerous, we don't know what happened to Richie, we don't know what we're dealing with here." I said, concerned.
"Exactly, but we're fairly certain it's a demon, so we need to act quickly before it jumps bodies and we lose track of it. Now she was the last one we know of who saw Richie alive." I sighed, he was right. I still didn't have to like it.
"Come on, I'll have you backing me up. Nothing is going to go wrong," Dean said, leaning in to kiss me, trailing his fingers along my chin. I moaned, and pulled back.
"Dammit I hate when you do that," I said with a smile. He chuckled and kissed me again on the forehead.
"Come on, let's do this," he said. I nodded.
Trotter's Bar
Dean's POV
I left Beth at the back of the room in a shady corner where she wouldn't be noticed easily, then made my way up to the bar. I took a seat and it wasn't long before a woman approached me, leaning against the bar and flirting shamelessly. She had on a tight pink top that showed off her rack just nicely.
"I got to tell you – every woman in this place – they want to eat you up," she said with a husky voice to me.
"Oh, anybody could have tackled that guy... and wrestled the gun away... prevented mass murder," I said to her with a grin.
The woman looked at me with a thinly veiled look of lust. "Here's what I'm gonna do. Normally, I charge $400 a night," she said. She leaned in to me with a grin. "Why don't we call it an even deuce and get the hell out of here?" She whispered in my ear.
I gave her an incredulous look, did I look like a man who paid for sex? "What do I look like?" I asked her with a frown. She stepped back, giving me an appraising look.
"What do I look like?" She asked, turning her back on me. "Cheapskate!" She tossed back at me before walking away. I smirked and shook my head.
Casey was tending bar and turned to me once I was alone. "Did I just see you strike out with a prostitute? How's that work?" She asked.
"Well I just told her I had a thing for the bartender, pretty easy," I said to her with a trademark Dean Winchester I'm a sex god smile.
"Who says the bartender's available?" Casey questioned with a raised eyebrow.
"That's a good question," I said, sitting back a little. "You got something going with some guy about yea tall, wears a sweat suit?" I asked, holding my hand in the air around Richie's height.
"Who?" Casey asked, non-committally.
"No. My mistake. What do you say you and me grab a drink after your shift?" I asked her, flashing her a smile.
"I say why wait... when we can go right now?" She said, I twitched my mouth slightly, now we were talking.
Casey grabbed her jacket and shrugged into it as we were leaving. I cast a look over at Beth who was watching us like a hawk, and winked at her as we left the bar. I was certain I saw her roll her eyes, even if she didn't actually do it.
House on the outside of town
Dean's POV
Casey took me back to her place, and led the way down some wide cement steps into a gothic looking basement. I glanced around at the interior, and raised an eyebrow at the dust and mildewed walls.
"Looks like the maid's day off," I commented. Casey stopped, glancing around and seeming surprised. I smirked. "Everything okay?" I asked her.
She turned and kissed me, lingering her mouth over mine. "Make yourself comfortable," she said, stepping away.
"Oh, I forgot to mention... Richie was a friend of mine," I said to her, she stopped walking, turning to look back at me. "When I realised I could track the GPS in his cell phone, I swung by earlier. Gave him a proper burial. It's better than rotting in some skank's basement."
She launched herself at me, but came up short, repelling backwards as if she'd hit an invisible wall. I crouched down in front of her, moving the rug to reveal the devil's trap Beth had painted underneath earlier.
"Whoops," I said. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Isn't that a buzz kill? Sorry, sister, but you're going back to where you came from."
"I don't think so," Casey said. I raised an eyebrow and pulled a book out of my jacket and flipped through the pages to find the exorcism I needed.
"Spiritus in mundus un glorum suarum umitite palatum iram domine," I started to read in Latin.
Casey closed her eyes and started to concentrate, suddenly all the pages from my book ripped free of the binding, flying around the room. I turned at the sound of a creaking groan and saw the entrance to the basement cave in. Casey started laughing and I shook my head at her.
"What are you laughing at, bitch? You're still trapped," I reminded her.
"So are you... bitch," she smirked.
Damn, where the hell was Beth? She should have been down here by now.
I started to light some of the candles around, examining the rock fall that was now blocking the only way out.
"Lose something?" Casey asked, crossing her arms.
"All you demons have such smart mouths," I said, looking back at her.
"It's a gift," she said.
"Well, let's see if you're smiling when I send your ass back to Hell," I threatened her, giving her an amused look.
"Without your little exorcism book? Hey, go ahead," she said, calling my bluff.
I stood up, walking over to her. No problem, I got this.
"Spiritus in mundus...Spritus..." I paused, what came next?
"Having a little trouble there, sport?" Casey taunted and I renewed my efforts. I was silently kicking myself for not paying more attention when Sam and Beth had been memorising the exorcism rites.
"Spiritus in mundus un glorum suarum umitite palatum..." I said, grimacing, I had no idea what I was saying, not really.
"Nice try, but I think you just ordered a pizza. I guess you should have paid more attention in Latin class," Casey said with a smirk.
"Hey, I don't know what you're smiling about," I said, walking over to the only part of the building where light was filtering through, a grate that had bars over the top of it. "You're not going anywhere," I pointed out.
"And, apparently, neither are you," Casey said.
"Yeah, but I got someone coming for me, and, uh... she did pay attention in class," I said proudly.
"Oh, right – Beth. Everyone says she's the brains of the outfit, more than just a pretty face," Casey said, tilting her head to the side.
"Everyone?" I asked, feeling I should get some credit at least for being the oldest.
"Sure. You Winchesters are famous. Not Lohan famous, but, you know..." Casey shrugged.
"Well, that's flattering. I'll be sure to let Beth know when she gets here," I said, starting to feel a little worried as to why she wasn't already here.
"If she shows up first," Casey said, and I stopped to look at her. "What? You thought I was flying solo?" The look on my face clearly told her I had. "You shouldn't underestimate Dean. It might be the death of you."
I stared at her with my narrowed eyes, suddenly not happy with my predicament.
"You can give me hard eyes all you want, but the fact remains, we just have to wait and see who shows up first – the cavalry or the Indians. And I have a feeling the cavalry might have had a welcoming party waiting for her back at the bar," Casey smirked.
I swallowed, oh this wasn't good.
Trotter's Bar
Beth's POV
I got up to follow Dean and Casey once they had exited the bar, not hurrying because I didn't want to seem too eager. The truth was I was feeling sick to my stomach whenever I looked at her, I knew it was because we suspected her of being a demon, so I had my litany going on repeat inside my head.
The sickness passed as I headed toward the motorcycle I'd 'commandeered' for the evening. I jumped on, about to pull on my helmet when two sets of hands grabbed me from behind, pulling me from the bike as if I weighed nothing more than a bag of feathers. The nausea hit me again hard, and I fought the urge to vomit.
"Let go of me!" I cried out, struggling against their grips but unable to break free. I recognised the two men who had me as having been hanging around the bar. They grinned at me and blinked, their eyes turning black.
"What do you want?" I asked, stopping the struggle, it was useless and I was only going to exhaust myself. I needed to bide my time to figure out a way free.
"Oh, just letting your boyfriend get away with the girl, she doesn't want any disturbances while she's busy with him," said the one who seemed to be in charge, he was tall with a shaved head.
"Listen, Baldy, if she thinks she's got the upper hand on him, she's got another thing coming," I said with a smirk, hoping I sounded a lot more confident than I felt.
"We'll see," he responded, looking me up and down. "In the mean time, we get to have some fun with you." The demon holding on to me started to laugh and I felt sticky hot breath fan across my neck and I shuddered in revulsion. Great, just great.
My phone started ringing in my pocket and I resumed my struggle against them, trying to grab it. Baldy's hands roamed over my hips and down into my pocket, pulling the phone out.
"She's busy," he said into the phone, not even waiting for the caller to speak.
"Dean! Sam!" I yelled, not caring who was on the other end, I used the phone distraction to step on the insole of the man holding me, and he cried out in pain when I jerked my arms free, thrusting my elbow back and punching him in the groin. He doubled over and I ran down the alleyway, heading for people. I had to get away from them, and quick.
I rounded the corner and collided with a couple making out in the middle of the street.
"Sorry!" I muttered, moving around them. Suddenly their eyes turned black and the man grabbed at me, the girl turning her head to the side and smiling.
"Gotcha!" She said with a grin. I looked back to see the bodies that the demons had been inhabiting discarded on the ground in the alley. Damn!
"Come on sweetheart, we're not going to hurt you, unless you want us to. We're all about the love," said the new, much more attractive demon. She slid her hands around my waist and up my back. She leaned in to kiss me and I headbutted her, hard, hearing her nose crack from the impact. She reeled back and roared at me, slapping me across the face.
"Bitch!" She snapped, and grabbed me around the neck, pulling me close. "Just for that, I'm gonna make you watch while I use your body to do all kinds of unmentionables," she said with a chuckle. She bit my lower lip and used her tongue to force open my mouth.
There was a pressure, like gas trying to pass from her mouth into mine, but nothing further happened. She reeled back, looking at me, curious. A burning noise popped and sizzled between us and smoke poured up from under my shirt as the demon made contact with my rosary, the amulet to ward against demon possession attached to it.
The demon holding me spun me around and ripped open my shirt to reveal the amulet, he reached for it, but a charge of electricity zapped out to sting him on the hand.
"No demons allowed," I said with a grin, using the moment to start running again.
Trotter's Bar
Sam's POV
It had been over forty minutes since I'd told Dean and Beth to meet me at the bar. I was looking around anxiously, it wasn't like them not to show up when we'd made arrangements.
A pretty woman in a pink top was eyeing me off, it was making me feel very uncomfortable.
"You look kind of tense. You know, I know a sure fire way to relax," she said suggestively to me, sucking on a cocktail onion on a toothpick as she leaned on the bar.
I tried not to recoil at the idea and smiled. "Maybe later. Excuse me," I said, turning to the other section of the bar. The barman turned around to serve me.
"What can I get for you?" He asked.
"Um, you remember the guy I was with last night? We sat right here," I said, gesturing to the stool next to me.
The man grunted. "The big hero who jumped on Reggie," he commented.
"Yeah, yeah. The – the big hero. Right. Um, have you seen him around at all today? Or maybe my sister, the pretty girl that was with us?" He looked at me and raised an eyebrow.
"Maybe. Depends," he said.
"Depends on what?" I asked. He simply raised another eyebrow at me. I shook my head, pulling some cash out of my pocket.
"Oh, my – does everyone around here have their hand out?" I asked, handing him a fifty dollar bill. The man simply smirked and tucked the money into his shirt pocket.
"He left with Casey about an hour ago," he said to me.
"What about the girl?" I asked, wondering why Beth wouldn't have been with Dean.
"Didn't see her," he commented with a shrug. I frowned, not like her at all.
"Any idea where they went?" I asked, might as well start looking for Dean then.
"Her place... for Bible study," the barman said with a smirk. I looked at him and raised an eyebrow.
"You got an address?" I asked.
He looked at me with an expression of amusement. "What's wrong with you? You think I'm gonna give you a co-worker's address just so you can go over there and get your freaky peeping-tom rocks off?" He asked. I sighed and pulled another fifty dollar bill out of my pocket, handing it over. The barman took it quickly.
"Corner of Piermont and Clinton. Have fun," he said without even batting an eyelid.
Basement
Dean's POV
I rolled an old wine barrel under the barred grate and climbed up on it, pulling out my phone and waving it up near the entry, trying to get a signal.
"Why don't you relax?" Casey said, now reclining back on the ground, looking comfortable in her containment.
"Why don't you kiss my ass," I said back to her.
"Why, Dean, you're a poet. I had no idea. Look, we won't have any effect on the outcome of this. We might as well be civil," she said.
I gave up on the signal and grasped at the bars instead, pulling on them and seeing if they'd budge.
"Civil, huh?" I grunted. "Killing Richie – that was civil? The guy was harmless," I said to her.
"That knife he pulled on me didn't look so harmless," Casey said.
"A knife wouldn't hurt you," I said, looking up out the window again.
"No, but it would damage this body and Casey has such a fine body, I wouldn't want to see it ripped," she said to me, looking herself over.
I jumped down off the barrel, laughing. "A demon with a heart. Well, you know, there's a bunch of dead people in town that might disagree with you."
"Hey, I didn't pull any triggers," Casey said, offended.
"Yeah? You did something," I said sceptically.
"You want to know what I did – what I really did? I had lunch," she said, staring up at me. I looked back at her, frowning.
"Lunch?" I asked.
"Me and Trotter. He had a cheeseburger, I had a salad, and I just pointed out the money that could be made with a few businesses that cater to harmless vice. So Trotter built it, and man, did they come," she said with a grin. "Supposedly god-fearing folk, waist-deep in booze, sex, gambling. I barely lifted a finger."
I took a couple of steps toward her, barely believing my ears. Surely it couldn't be as simple as that?
"That's it?" I asked.
"You don't get it. All you got to do is nudge humans in the right direction. Some whiskey here, a hooker there, and they'll walk right into Hell with big, fat smiles on their faces. Your kind is corrupt, Dean. Weak. Our will's stronger. That's why we'll win," she finished with a sigh.
"And that's how it ends?" I asked her.
"No, that's how it begins," she answered, a smile on her face.
"So, demons take over. I thought the meek shall inherit the earth?" I asked, sitting down on the barrel.
"Oh, according to your Bible. It's only a book Dean," Casey said.
"Not everyone would agree," I argued, thinking of Beth in particular.
"Because it's God's book? Do you believe in God, Dean? I'd be surprised if you did," she asked me, a curious look on her face.
"I don't know," I said, thinking about it. I thought about Beth and Sam, their ridiculous faith in something greater than themselves. "I'd like to," I said honestly.
"Well, I don't see how you and your god have done such a bang-up job. War, genocide – it's only getting worse. This past century, you people racked up a body count that amazed even us," she said. "It's our turn now, and we're gonna do it right this time."
A noise sounded from above us, and I jumped, looking up toward the grate.
"Don't be hopeful, Dean. You're not delivered. It's only the wind," Casey said with a smirk.
Main Street, Elizabethville
Beth's POV
I'd been running flat out for a few minutes. I knew I couldn't keep it up. Rounding a corner I saw a young girl on a mobile phone, and without slowly down I grabbed it from her hand, ignoring her cries of complaint as ran on. "She'll call you back!" I said, hanging up the phone.
Dialling and running isn't easy, but I managed, slowing down to a jog as I looked around me. I was in a deserted street, no streetlight, and it had an eerie feel to it. I had to find transportation and get to Dean before those demons caught up with me.
"Hello?" Sam's voice came over the phone.
"Sammy! Thank God! Where are you?" I said into the phone, testing the handles on a few cars that I passed. One of them was open, so I stopped, getting in behind the wheel and looking around for a key.
"Beth?! Where are you?!" Sam asked in response and I rolled my eyes. We could be here all night with this discussion.
"On the run from demons. Dean is with Casey, we have to get to him." I said.
"Yeah, I've just been at her place, they weren't there," Sam said, "Where are you?" he said.
"I'm getting a car, but listen..." My instructions on how to find Dean got interrupted as a big burly man grabbed me out of the car, smashing the phone against the brick wall of the shop nearby. I found myself hoisted up in the air by the throat, spots forming in front of my eyes as his rage overspilled.
"Let her go," a voice sounded from behind us and if I could have, I would have sighed in relief, recognising it anywhere. The male demon turned around to glare at the intruder.
"Make me," he said and I smirked, looking over at dear old Bobby, standing there, Colt in hand.
"Oh, I can do better than that," Bobby said with a grin, cocking the Colt and pointing it at the demon. The demon paused, realising what it was Bobby was holding, and it looked to me like he turned a shade paler.
"What is that?" The second demon with him asked. I found myself suddenly dropped to the ground, gasping for breath as the demon exited his body, a cloud of black smoke moving up and away from us, demon number two followed suit, and I was left sitting on the ground between a very confused couple of men, looking over at Bobby, who was putting the gun into his jacket.
"Are you ok?" He asked, and I nodded as he helped me to my feet. I felt a little shaky, but otherwise unharmed.
"We have to hurry, Dean is in trouble," I said. "Where's your car?"
Bobby led me toward where he'd parked and we got in, I knew where to find Dean, I just hoped we weren't too late if Casey knew he was on to her.
Casey's House
(Ten Minutes Earlier)
Sam's POV
I was starting to feel the tell-tale signs of panic by the time I found the house according to the address the barman had given me. All my calls to Beth and Dean went through to voice-mail. I didn't know where to start looking for Beth so I had to trust that she could handle things herself, while I found Dean – at least I had a lead on him. It was dark and quiet, no one seemed to be home. The door was open, so I let myself in, walking quietly through the house.
"Dean?" I called out, hoping I'd hear him or he'd come around the corner at any moment. Nothing. There was nobody home.
I pulled out my phone and called Beth back again, waiting as the phone rang and rang, going to voice-mail. I frowned, it wasn't like her to not answer her phone, unless she was physically unable to.
I took one more look around the house, there was a photo of Casey and a guy in a frame on a table, I picked it up to look and then noticed something that made me freeze. A yellow powder was on the table behind where the frame had rested. I reached down and ran a finger through it, raising it to my nose and grimacing.
"Sulphur..." I murmured to myself.
I had to get some back up here, and now.
Ten minutes later I was back at Trotter's bar, calling Bobby, his phone went to voice-mail too, where the hell was everyone?
"Bobby, it's Sam. We got a big problem. I found some sulphur, and now I can't find Dean or Beth. Call me as soon as you get this," I said, hanging up and turning to the barman.
"Hey, excuse me. They weren't there," I said to him. He smirked at me and shook his head.
"I guess you got to catch your jollies another night. Here," he said, starting to pour a shot of whiskey in front of me. "Why don't you have a drink and relax?"
I sighed in frustration. "I don't want to relax! What is it with the people in this town?" I asked.
"Suit yourself – princess," the barman said to me with a shrug, downing the shot himself.
I turned around, looking for a familiar face, wondering if perhaps Beth would just walk up to me at any moment, Dean in tow.
My phone suddenly rang, I looked at the number and didn't recognise it, answering it just the same.
"Hello?" I said,
"Sammy! Thank God! Where are you?" Beth said on the other end of the phone. She was breathless and talking quickly.
"Beth?! Where are you?!" I asked in response
"On the run from demons. Dean is with Casey, we have to get to him." She said.
"Yeah, I've just been at her place, they weren't there," I said, "Where are you?"
"I'm getting a car, but listen..." She never got any further, suddenly the line went dead and I stared at my phone. That didn't sound good, and there was nothing I could do to help her, I had no idea where she was. I glanced around the bar urgently, wondering what my next move was. Father Gil was sitting in a booth, looking over his 'flock', and I wondered, maybe I could get some help after all.
"Father," I said, coming up to the man.
"Yes?" He asked.
"Um... can I talk to you for a sec?" I asked.
Basement
Dean's POV
"You're piling it pretty high there, sweetheart. I'm not sure I'm buying," I responded to Casey's claim that the demons were going to take over the world. I'd started pacing the room again, restless.
"Why would I lie?" She asked, standing up.
"Demons lie," I said, it didn't get much clearer than that.
"Some do, some are true believers," Casey said, looking at me.
"Believers in what?" I asked. I found it hard to believe that demons had faith in anything, they were nothing more than random chaos, looking to do harm wherever they could. What could they possibly need with belief in something greater than themselves?
"You think humans have an exclusive on a higher power?" She said, watching me with her dark eyes.
"You have a god?" I asked, looking at her sceptically.
"Sure. His name's Lucifer," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"You mean the Devil?" I asked.
"Your word, not ours," she said, narrowing her eyes at me, obviously displeased with the term. "Lucifer actually means 'light bringer'. Look it up. Once he was the most beautiful of all God's angels, but God demanded that he bow down before man, and when he refused, God banished him." She smirked, shaking her head. "Tell me Dean. How do you like bowing before lesser creatures?"
I was still trying to get my head around the whole devil thing. "Lucifer's really real?" I asked.
"Well, no one's actually seen him, but they say that he made us into what we are, and they say that he'll return," Casey said.
"Oh, yeah?" I asked with a chuckle. "And, uh, you believe that?"
"I've got faith," Casey said. I shook my head, she was starting to sound like Beth. "So you see? Is our kind really all that different than yours?" She asked.
"Well, except that, uh, demons are evil," I pointed out to her.
"...and humans are such a lovable bunch," she said, rolling her eyes. "Dick Cheney," she said.
"He one of yours?" I asked.
"Not yet," she answered. "Let's just say he's got a parking spot reserved for him downstairs."
Downstairs. That got me thinking. I moved around the devil's trap, coming to lean against a stone pillar. "Hey, speaking of downstairs... what's it like down there?"
"What, Hell?" She asked.
"Yeah," I said with a nod, trying to appear casual, but my heart sped up just thinking about it.
She looked curiously at me. "That's right. You booked a one-way ticket with that deal. You're not gonna like it, Dean. And, um, judging from the trouble you've caused, I don't think you'll be getting the presidential suite." She looked at me with what seemed like sympathy in her eyes. "No, it's a pit of despair. Why do you think we want to come here?"
I swallowed, I don't know what I'd expected to hear, but the reality of my situation was starting to hit home with me, and that despair she was talking about, it was already sitting heavily on my heart.
Trotter's Bar
Sam's POV
Father Gil was entertaining my questions with a bemused look.
"So, the – the bartender the other night, Casey, you know her pretty well?" I asked him.
He nodded with a smile. "Since she was in pigtails," he answered.
"Well, um, she and my brother, they, uh, they left tonight. Together." I said to him, not sure how to broach this subject.
"Well, not that I approve, but they are consenting adults," Father Gil said to me.
"Right," I said, not sure how to continue.
"I'm sorry. You said 'brother'. I thought you were insurance investigators?" He asked me, and I almost cursed.
"Right, right. Well, we are. Um, it's like a family business you know?" I said dismissively. "Anyways, um, so I went to Casey's apartment, and they weren't there. I just have this feeling that they – that they might be in trouble."
"What kind of trouble?" The Father asked.
"Just trouble. Please, Father, I need your help. Is there anything you could tell me about Casey – any place she'd go, maybe?" I asked. I tried to put Beth's current whereabouts out of my mind. There was nothing I could do for her if I didn't know where she was. Chances are, if she was okay, she was headed to wherever Dean was, if she knew.
"Yes, there is a place," Father Gil said to me, starting to stand. "Let me get my jacket."
"No, wait, Father. I can do this by myself," I said, standing with him.
"Son, if Casey's really in trouble, then there's nothing to talk about," the Father said, pulling on his jacket. "Shall we go?" I didn't see that I had much choice, so I nodded, and let him lead the way out of the bar.
Basement
Dean's POV
We'd been down here for so long I'd started to lose track of time. I didn't like sitting around waiting for some external force to call the shots on my life. I wanted to take action, mould the future for myself, but here I was, sitting with a demon, waiting.
"Kind of funny, don't you think?" Casey asked. "You and me, sitting here like a couple of regular folk?"
"It's hilarious," I said sarcastically. "You know – in that apocalyptic sort of way."
"You're all right, Dean," she said to me. "The others don't describe you that way. But, you know, you're – you're likeable."
I smirked. "A demon likes me. Sorry, I don't know how to respond to that," I said, shaking my head.
"You could say thanks. That deal you made to save Beth – a lot of others would mock you for it, think it was weak or stupid. I don't. I think she's lucky to have someone who loves her that much." Casey smiled, a slightly nostalgic look to her face.
I looked at her, thinking about the deal, and how we'd all come to this point. I don't know how lucky Beth was really, seemed we'd done nothing except mess up her life since the day we'd entered it.
"I'm not sure Beth would agree with you there," I said with a half-smile. "But, I wasn't about to let her go to Hell for saving Sam."
"Still, a year only. You're not scared?" She asked.
"Nah," I said, shaking my head, hoping I appeared more laissez-faire that I felt. Truth be told it was starting to terrify me, but I had to be strong, this was my lot, and I'd made my bed – I'd eventually have to lie in, regardless of how I felt.
"Not even a little?" She asked.
"Of course not," I said, all bravado.
Bobby's Car
Beth's POV
"I don't know where he was, do you have a phone?" I asked Bobby, talking about Sam, as he steered us toward where Dean and I had found Richie's dead body earlier. It had to be where Casey was taking Dean, there wasn't a moment to lose.
Bobby handed me his phone and I dialled Sam from memory, waiting as the phone rang, and rang. Sam finally answered, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Sam! The house you need to go to is 54 Hillcrest Road, they'll be in the basement," I said quickly, just in case we got disconnected again.
"Yeah, we're on our way, we're almost there," Sam said.
"Wait, what do you mean, 'we'? Who are you with?" I asked, frowning over at Bobby.
"Father Gil," Sam answered. "I'll meet you there, okay?" He didn't wait for me to answer, hanging up on the spot.
"He's on his way there with the priest from yesterday," I said to Bobby. I felt sick to my stomach, and it wasn't car sick. "I have a bad feeling about this," I said to the older man.
Bobby grunted, and nodded, kicking the car into a higher gear and rocketing us faster down the road, we were minutes away, hopefully it would be enough.
54 Hillcrest Road
Sam's POV
I hung up from Beth, her concerned voice echoing through my head.
"Sorry about that, our, uh, sister... she's been out looking for Dean too," I said weakly. Father Gil looked impressed.
"Wow, it really is a family business," he said.
"You have no idea," I muttered, shaking my head.
"So, insurance investigating. You enjoy the work?" Father Gil asked.
"Yeah. I … like being able to help people." I said.
"Ever think about doing anything else?" He asked randomly, I found it to be an odd question.
"Like what?" I asked, looking over at him.
"Mmm, anything. You seem like a pretty smart kid. Somehow I see you out in front of the pack. You could do some great things," he said with a smile.
I shrugged, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the praise. "I don't know. I like doing what I'm doing, I guess."
"Well, it's your life. Does, um... Dean?" Father Gil asked, faltering on the name.
"Yeah, Dean," I confirmed with a nod.
"Does he find trouble often?" He asked.
"Yeah, yeah. Dean finds his fair share," I said with a chuckle.
"And what about your sister?" He asked, looking over at me. I smiled and shrugged, chuckling again as I looked down at my hands.
"Oh, usually she's in as deep as he is, probably why she's freaking out now," I answered, smiling slightly. Poor Beth, she didn't like being separated from Dean at the best of times, she especially didn't like it now he was hot on Hell's hit list and holding a one-way ticket to fire and brimstone.
"Well, it's a good thing they have you – their keeper," he said with a smile.
I smirked and shook my head slightly. If only that were true. They'd spent so long being my keepers, looking after me, that I was afraid they didn't know how to do anything else.
Basement
Dean's POV
Casey was lying on the floor, stretching out before me. I was staring toward her, but I wasn't really seeing her.
"Why Dean, if I didn't know better, I'd say that was lust in your eyes," she said, rolling on to her side and propping her head up on her hand. "Well, it would be one way to spend the time, but I don't think you'd respect me in the morning."
I grinned at her, shaking my head. "That's okay. I mean, hey, I barely respect you now," I answered, raising my eyebrow at her. She chuckled, flashing a friendly smile at me.
"Hey, can I ask you a question?" I asked, deciding I might as well go for broke.
"I'm an open book," she said.
"So, the Gate opened. The Demon Army was let out. What now, huh? I'm not seeing a big, honking plan here." I said.
"Honestly, there was a plan. Azazel was a tyrant, but he held us all together," she answered, sitting up and crossing her legs.
"Azazel?" I queried.
"You think his brothers just called him 'Yellow Eyes'? He had a name. After you did him in, it all fell apart," she said.
"Sorry about that," I said insincerely. "So what? No chain of command?"
"There was. It was Sam. Sam was supposed to be the grand pooh-bah and lead the big army, but he hasn't exactly stepped up to the plate, has he?" She said, raising an eyebrow.
"Thank God for that," I said with a smirk.
She laughed. "Again with God. You think this is a good thing? Now you've got chaos, a war without a front, hundreds of demons all jockeying for power, all fighting for the crown. Most of them gunning for your brother." She said, her face turning serious. "For the record, I was ready to follow Sam."
Hillcrest Road
Sam's POV
"Dean?!" I yelled as soon as we arrived, I knocked on the door but there was no response. "Check that way," I said to Father Gil and he nodded, going in the opposite direction.
"Dean!" I called out again, and then I heard him. It was faint, but definitely Dean.
"Sam!" I followed the sound of his voice to a grate leading down to the basement.
"Dean?" I said, waiting to hear if I was going in the right direction.
"Sammy, down here! The basement caved in!" Dean's voice carried up from down under the house, I looked down the grate and could just make him out.
"Dean, hold on, okay? We're coming," I said to him.
"Who's we? Is Beth with you?" He asked, and I shook my head.
"No, I'm here with the father," I said.
Dean frowned, looking back at someone else in the basement, and then up at me again. "Sammy, be careful," he warned. I frowned at him, and then got up, reaching for the holy water in my pocket as I went back around the side of the house.
Father Gil was standing in front of me, his eyes were now black as tar pits. He moved toward me and a shot fired, missing him and breaking a statue behind him. I turned around to see Bobby standing there with the Colt. Father Gil reached out a hand and using his own powers, flung Bobby to the ground several yards away. I flinched, and before I could even think about getting the lid off the flask, I felt myself lifted up and thrown against the windscreen of the Impala, smashing it.
Hillcrest Avenue
Beth's POV
I watched as the Father flung both Bobby and Sam through the air, cringing at the sound of the windscreen breaking on the Impala.
Pulling my own flask of holy water out of my jacket pocket, I stopped long enough to see that they were both okay before rushing after the Father. I had to get to Dean.
The demon smashed his way down to the basement from inside the house, and I followed in his wake.
"Stop!" I heard Casey call out and I rounded the corner to see her point to the devil's trap she was caught in before the Father stepped in to it as well. The Father paused, then knelt down to smash the floor, cracking the trap and releasing the power. Once free, Casey reached out and the Father grabbed her in an impassioned kiss.
Dean struggled to his feet after having been flung across the room, and shook his head.
"You two?" He asked, pointing at them.
The Father turned to him. "For centuries. We've been to Hell and back, literally."
"Leave him be," Casey said and I stepped into the room unnoticed, opening my flask of holy water. I just had to buy some time for someone to get down here with the Colt. I cursed myself for not waiting.
Father Gil grabbed Dean by the throat and lifted him up in the air.
"Don't kill him. Let's just go," Casey said to him. "Please."
"Hey!" I called out to the demons, advancing into the room. Father Gil turned to face me and I sprayed the holy water in his face, he dropped Dean and turned to face me, reaching out and flinging me across the room into a wall. Sharp pain ran up my arm and shoulder where I hit, and I groaned.
A shot fired and I looked up to see Sam had appeared with the Colt, killing the Father, a flash of red light running over his body. Sam pointed the gun at Casey.
"Sam, wait!" Dean called out. Sam ignored him, pulling the trigger. His face cold and impassive as he stood there, Colt in hand, looking at the dead people before him.
Dean was instantly at my side, helping me up.
"Are you okay?" He asked worriedly as he checked me over with his hands and eyes. I nodded, still staring at Sam. Dean looked back at him too, and then met my gaze, a worried look in his eyes. Pulling me into his arms for a tight hug, Dean turned to look down at the bodies of the Father and Casey lying dead in the devil's trap.
"Where the hell did you get the Colt from? Since when does it work?" Dean asked, confused by what had just happened.
I sighed, leaning in to his body warmth, my head against his chest. "I'll explain everything once we get out of here," I murmured, just glad to have him back safe and sound.
Main Street, Elizabethville
The Next Morning
Beth's POV
Dean and I were walking down the street with Bobby, looking around at the town which looked like it was still in the throes of Mardi Gras.
"Well, what do you think, Bobby?" Dean asked, his hand resting casually around my waist as we crossed the street, making our way back toward the garage where the Impala's windscreen was getting repaired. "What we did here, you think it made a difference?" He asked, gesturing to all the half-clad women walking around.
"Two less demons to worry about. That's not nothing," Bobby said, all practicality.
"But Trotter's still alive," Dean said.
"Humans ain't our job," Bobby said.
"Yeah, but you think anything's really gonna change? Maybe these people really do just want to destroy themselves. Maybe it is a losing battle," Dean said. He sounded less hopeful than he had a few days ago, tired and jaded.
"Is that you or the demon girl talking?" I asked softly, looking up at him.
"Oh, it's me. Demon is dead, and so is that hot girl it was possessing," he said, looking down at me. I smirked, rolling my eyes at the hot girl comment.
"Well, had to be done," Bobby said. "Sam was saving your lives."
"Yeah, but you didn't see it Bobby. It was cold," Dean said, looking over at the older man. "Bobby?" He stopped walking, and Bobby turned to face us both.
"Yeah?" He asked.
"Back in Wyoming, uh, there was this moment. Yellow-Eyes said something to us," he looked down at me and I nodded. I'd been wondering the same thing since seeing Sam take out the demons.
"What did he say?" Bobby asked, curious.
"That maybe when Sam came back from wherever, that... maybe he came back different," Dean said, squinting against the sun, and shifting uncomfortably with the idea.
"Different how?" Bobby queried the both of us.
"I don't know," Dean answered. "Whatever it was, it didn't sound good."
"Do you think something is wrong with our brother, Bobby?" I asked the man, and he looked at me; he thought about it a moment and then shrugged.
"No," he answered, shaking his head. "Demons lie. I'm sure Sam's okay."
"Yeah," Dean said, less convincingly. "Yeah me too," he added, nodding. I felt a bit more sceptical about it, but I had to believe that he was all right. I had to believe that everything we were going through wasn't in vain.
"Come on, let's get you lot back home," Bobby said, starting to walk away again. "You left my house a right mess!"
I smiled at the grumpy old man and Dean laughed, pulling me with him as he followed Bobby toward the garage.
My rosary swung around as we walked and Dean reached out to take a hold of the amulet attached to it. We stopped walking again, and he looked down at me.
"You know a stronger demon might have been able to yank this off you," he said quietly. "There's a whole lot we didn't realise about these things that we're starting to find out now."
"Well what do you suggest Dean? We need to wear them," I said, running my hand down his chest and tracing the amulet he was wearing through his t-shirt.
Dean looked around us, thinking. Then he got a cheeky grin on his face, his eyes alighting on a shop across the road. Hazel eyes twinkled as he looked at me. "I got an idea," he grinned, and I turned to look in the direction he was facing.
"Hmm," I said thoughtfully, grinning back at him. "Let's get Sam," I said with a raised eyebrow. This was going to be fun.
Motel Room
Sam's POV
I was packing my things up when Ruby walked through the door.
"Leaving so soon? We haven't even had a chance to celebrate," she said to me.
I turned and looked at her, suspicious of the fact that she'd just shown up in South Dakota and helped Bobby to fix the Colt. Just what was her endgame?
"Yeah, well, you can celebrate without me," I said to her, zipping up my bag.
"You're not gonna get all pouty on me, are you? Come on! You killed two demons today," she said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
"Yeah, well, maybe you don't care, but I killed two humans, too." I pointed out to her, and it had been weighing on my mind.
"Sam, you know what happens when demons piggyback humans. They leave them road hard and put-up wet. Chances are those two would have died a slow, sticky death. You probably did them a favour," Ruby said, sitting down on the bed opposite me.
"Did them a favour? You're a cold bitch, you know that?" I asked, turning around to pick up the Colt off the bed.
"Yeah, and this cold bitch has saved your ass a couple of times now. Some respect might be nice. Especially if you want me to help you out with Dean and his little problem."
"You know what?" I asked, turning to face her. "You keep dangling that, but last I checked, Dean's still going to Hell," I said a little angrily.
"Everything in its own time, Sam. There's a quid pro quo here. We're in a war," Ruby said to me.
"Right, but for some reason you're fighting on our team. Now, tell me, why is that again?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Go screw yourself. That's why. I don't have to justify my actions to you, Sam," she retorted. "If you don't want my help, fine, then give me the gun and I'll pass it on to someone who will use it." She stood up to face me and I pointed the gun point blank at her chest.
"Maybe I'll just use it on you," I said to her, eyes narrowed.
"Go ahead," she dared, "if that makes you happy. It's not gonna do much for Dean, though." We both paused a moment. "So, what's it gonna be?"
I thought about it, realising that we didn't have a lot of options right now, and unfortunately for us this bitch seemed to be the best one we had at the moment. I sighed, and lowered the gun, glaring at her.
"That's my boy," Ruby smirked. "This won't be easy, Sam. You're gonna have to do things that go against that gentle nature of yours. There'll be collateral damage... but it has to be done."
"Well, I don't have to like it," I said to her.
"No. You wouldn't be Sam if you did. On the bright side, I'll be there with you. That little fallen angel on your shoulder."
Tattoo Parlour
Dean's POV
"You guys come up with the strangest ideas sometimes," Sam said to me as I wandered the interior of the tattoo parlour, looking at all the different designs we could choose from.
Beth was in a massage-like chair, leaning forward, her arms draped across the back as she took in a few deep breaths. She'd wanted to go first, and was now half way through getting her ink. I walked around and looked at the pentacle half-formed at the back of her neck.
"You know, you could have got it on your chest like Sam and I are," I said to her, sitting on the chair in front of her and looking into her brown eyes.
"And ruin this beautiful body with that ugly thing?" She asked with a chuckle. "Bad enough I had these damn bullet wound scars," she added. I chuckled at leaned in to kiss her.
"What scars?" I asked, smiling. I never even noticed them.
"You're blind," she laughed, and shook her head, grimacing a little against the pain of the needle as the tattoo artist worked.
"So you lot getting the same thing, is it some kind of club you're in?" He asked, looking up at us like we were the oddest collection of white bread people he'd seen in a while.
"You might say that," I said to him, not elaborating further. He nodded and went back to work.
A few hours later and we were all sporting matching tattoos. Beth's on the back of her neck, Sam and I had ours on our left pecs, almost over our hearts. Beth grimaced, watching me with a suggestive look while pulled my shirt back on.
"You should have put yours at your neck too," she complained. "Now I have to look at that ugly thing every day." I laughed and pulled her in close.
"I'm sure I can do something to distract you from it," I said, kissing her with a hunger that was building inside of me again.
I pulled back and looked at her, quiet, calm, somehow holding it all together even though I was sure she was falling apart. 302 days to go. I sighed. 302 days and not a day more. I had to start making each one of them count.
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Song for this chapter is: Fighter by Gym Class Heroes
I couldn't get my inspiration happening for the short piece, this ended up coming out instead. So enjoy :D I'm feeling a little uninspired at the moment, and I'm trying not to have to take a break in order to get it back, I'll just keep plugging away. I hope I managed to do this one justice :) Did you like the tattoo moment? They had to get them sometime I figured, and canon never covered exactly when, so I'm saying it was now!
I might tackle Dead In The Water next, which is a flashback to early Dean & Beth relationship, it's Beth's POV of EarthhAngel's most recent chapter to her story How To Save A Life titled Dead In The Water – Holy Water.
Or I might do one I've been thinking of for a while, which ties into them having found the storage unit, and Beth stumbles across an old journal of John's from when she first joined them, and maybe tell that story :)
Or I might just go on to the next episode. I don't know yet! haha
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Please leave a review, it only gets me motivated even more! :D And you know I love it.
P.S. I generally try to respond to all the reviews (unless I'm short on time), but if you post as a guest, there's no way I can reply - I'm not replying in A/N anymore to anon posts. It's not hard to get a hotmail address and sign up to leave a review if you want a personal reply :) Hope you all understand.