AN: Sorry if there wasn't as much Sam in this chapter. But there's a couple twists and turns here; let me know what you thought! ;)
Do You Recall
III: Dead or Alive
"One bacon cheeseburger with fries, BLT with coleslaw, and a turkey Panini with onion rings," the waitress rattled off as she set down each plate. "You guys need anything else?"
"Nah, we're good," Dean said to the brunette with a wink. She gave him a smile that showed her dimples and walked away. Sam, far used to this by now, just tucked into his sandwich after dumping a few forkfuls of coleslaw between the bacon and the top bun of his BLT.
"I forgot you did that," said Elena, squeezing a packet of mayo onto her Panini bun.
"What?" Dean asked innocently. She raised a brow at him and took a bite of her sandwich.
"Chase every skirt within a five-mile radius." Sam coughed and had to take a long sip of his drink to flush down the food that caught in his throat.
"I reserve the right," Dean said around a mouthful of burger. She couldn't quite keep the disgust from her expression.
"I'm sure you do," she said.
"What, is it illegal to talk to beautiful women?"
"No Dean, but you're intentions aren't exactly subtle."
"My intentions?" They were on a hunt, he wasn't looking for a lay right this second. But he was a man, and women liked him, and he wasn't ashamed of using it to his advantage with a little harmless flirting. There would always be an after…at least for now, and he would enjoy it while it lasted.
"Dean," she said with a tired smile, "Forget it."
"What, Elena? If you're trying to tell me something, by all means," he said, gesturing widely with one hand while the other held his burger.
"Look, sorry. Forget I said anything. It's none of my business," she said when she noticed how touchy he was becoming. She had expected him to make a big joke of it, maybe even call her bullshit on forward women who do the same thing. Not raise his hackles and get all defensive.
"Damn right, it's none of your business," he said, and popped a fry into his mouth. She leaned away, taken aback.
"Hey, I said I was sorry, all right? No need to give me the third degree."
"Just eat your sandwich."
"Just tell me what your problem is. Why are you so pissy all of a sudden?"
"Guys," Sam interjected, his tone placating, "This isn't really the time for—"
"For what, Sam? We're having a conversation," said Dean. His nonchalance was beginning to grate on Elena's nerves, and Sam noticed.
"No, you're having a hissy fit. I was just joking," she said. Dean gave her a long look.
"Cut the bullshit, all right. You were saying I'm a skirt-chasing pig. So go ahead, continue."
"I wasn't," she said defensively. "I just mean you're a flirt, that's all."
"Right," he scoffed.
"You know what?" she said, dropping her sandwich onto the plate in front of her, "I'll be back. Gotta go powder my nose."
The sarcasm was evident in her voice, and inwardly Dean sighed. Sam measured his brother with a look Dean knew all too well.
"Dean."
"What, Sam?"
Sam didn't have to say anything; his bitchface said it for him. Dean rolled his eyes.
"Stop staring at me."
Sam thought Elena could lighten up a little (Dean was Dean, and she had to know by now that he was a shameless flirt), but she didn't deserve to be driven away from the table before she finished her food.
"She doesn't know about the deal, Dean." And there it was. Leave it to his brother to voice his thoughts.
"I know."
"I get why you have a short fuse right now, but—"
"All right, Sam."
Sam exhaled deeply through his nose and continued with his iced tea. "Well uh, you gunna go talk to her, or…"
Dean gave him a deadpan look. Sometimes, Sam could be a real pain in the ass.
"Shut up."
Sam smiled to himself and pretended not to watch his brother leave the table. He still can't tell what Elena is to his brother, but he has a feeling Dean doesn't know the answer to that yet either.
Unsurprisingly, Dean didn't find her by the bathroom. She was standing by the old-fashioned juke box in the corner, flipping through each song absently. He knew she noticed him come up behind her, but she didn't acknowledge him. Instead she fished fifty cents out of the wallet in the back pocket of her jeans and pressed a button. Soon, the strains of familiar power chords filled the small diner.
"I've made a lot of bad moves"
It took all he had not to laugh when she turned around with a knowing smirk.
"I know you could walk away, but you never do"
"Just admit that you liked it."
He looked down for a moment, not quite being able to fight a smile. When he looked up he was straight-faced, save for the way his eyes were dancing.
"Don't tell Sammy."
"Deal."
They did return to Sam at their table, allowing everyone to finish eating in peace without reference to the past ten minutes. But considering they had another five hours to wait, Sam made his way over to the bar to order them some drinks. Just one each though. It wouldn't do well to get shitfaced on the job, especially one this important.
"So tell me something," Elena began, reaching across the table to steal one of Dean's leftover fries. "How did you know Vick was holding back from me?"
"What do you mean?" Dean hedged, and he was almost successful in coming off honest.
"It was like your Spidey-sense was tingling or something," she said around a mouthful of fry, "My dad's known him for years, why would he lie to me?"
"That's kind of the problem."
"How do you mean?"
Dean toyed with the straw in his glass of coke for a moment before answering, this time sincerely.
"I remember what your dad was like. Rode your ass pretty hard, right?"
She scoffed in agreement.
"Never wanted you at the flashpoint of anything, and I understood that. You were still kinda new to the Job and he was trying to keep you safe…but if you were going to be a part of the hunt, you have to survive the hard shit," said Dean. Elena stared at him pensively.
"That's pretty much what John said to my dad about it," she said. "I think it was the only reason he let me on the skinwalker chase."
Dean didn't say anything, but his expression told her he already knew that.
"But what does that have to do with now?"
"He might've told Vick not to say anything, so you wouldn't up and follow him," said Dean. Her brows furrowed as he watched her take that in, then contain the following anger it caused.
Then Sam came back with much needed beers, and they had that to occupy the next half an hour.
"I called Bobby last night," said Elena.
"What'd he say?"
"That he should be able to come down tomorrow, and that's if he catches a plane," she said flatly. "Which he probably won't." Clearly she was disappointed, but she tried to pass it off with good-natured sarcasm.
"You told him not to bother, didn't you?" Dean asked knowingly.
"No, but I did tell him the situation. He said he would try to get here as fast as he could."
"Well, it's just us then. But we're used to that," said Sam.
"It's just the endless fucking waiting," Elena said in aggravation, then lowered her voice. "Are we seriously going to sit here all afternoon while my dad is out there? He could be God knows where. Hurt, or…"
She pursed her lips and sat back against her chair, ran a hand through her dark hair.
"Just relax, okay. I know you're frustrated. Believe me, I know how this is," said Sam. "But we're going to find him tonight, no doubt about it. We just need to be patient for a little while longer."
She knew that.
But Patience was a bitch, and Time could go fuck itself.
It was nearly 4:30 when Dean finally agreed to drive by the building where Greenwood worked. It was another hour when the man in question (or at least, who they believed to be based on Vick's descriptions) walked out to his car, swinging his keys around his finger. He wasn't a particularly tall man, but even at their safe distance away, Dean noted the superior way he carried himself as he walked. Physically he was fit, tan and sporting an almost casual business suit and stylish sunglasses.
"This guy already looks like a dick," Dean muttered, but followed the car at a sedate pace, careful not to get too close. They hadn't been driving five minutes when Greenwood pulled into an unfamiliar neighborhood and stopped in front of a small, yellow house. Dean parked a couple streets over, as usual.
"You think this is it?" he asked. "What happened to a cabin in the woods?"
"I don't know. You wanna wait?" said Sam.
"Not really, but you think it's smart to go in now?"
"We technically have the advantage of surprise," Elena pointed out. "And a statistical advantage of three on one."
"Yeah, but he's a witch, so you can't really count that," said Dean. "What will work is a bullet he doesn't see coming."
"So we're going in then," said Sam.
"Yeah, let's get the stuff from the trunk."
Elena whistled lowly when Dean unlocked the arsenal.
"I forgot about this," she said.
"Got all the party favors," he said with a grin. Sam held out a gun for her. He hadn't seen one on her earlier and she hadn't taken one out of her bag.
"Here's an extra if you need it."
"It's all right," she said.
Sam looked over at her with thinly veiled confusion, while Dean nodded. She hadn't told him why, but he remembered her being adamant against touching one.
"What?" Sam asked.
Elena opened her jacket that held two silver knives. Both brothers raised their brows, but it was Dean who said, "That's not gunna do much against a witch. Take the crowbar and cuffs, their iron. We'll need him alive if your dad isn't here."
The two grabbed knives and guns and loaded them with iron bullets, just to be safe.
Once in front of the house, Dean motioned for Sam to find a backdoor entrance while he and Elena took the front. On the silent count of three, Dean burst through the door with Elena hot on his heels. The last he saw was Greenwood standing in the living room, palms outstretched, before his vision faded and nothing else mattered.
Dean blearily woke, groaned at the pain in his head shooting between his eyes. At first he thought something was wrong with them, but then his vision focused more and he realized he was in relative darkness. There were fire-lit torches hanging on the walls that helped illuminate the room, and it looked like the inside of a cave.
Told you, Sammy.
And then he looked around. He didn't find Sam, but Elena was sitting slumped against the wall next to him with her hands and feet tied with thick rope, like Dean was.
"Lena." She stirred a bit after he said her name a little more persistently. She blinked, frowning down at her tied self before looking over at him.
"Where the hell are we?" she asked weakly. Her eyes were wide and scared.
"Good question," said Dean. He noticed the look on her face though. "But hey, it's gunna be okay. We'll figure a way out of here."
He paused as he saw Elena's eyes widen, filling with hope. He followed her gaze to his left, where a hunched figure leaned against the wall.
"Dad?" she choked out. The man was a mess. Bruises on his face and tattered clothes, and blood streaming from a cut on his hairline and above his left brow.
"Dad," she called more earnestly. With a little difficulty, he raised his head. His gaze met hers and widened in surprise.
"Elena?"
"Hey, Dad," she said with a shaky smile. Jack looked over at Dean, who nodded at him in greeting, then back to his daughter.
"What…what are you doing here?" he asked, then turned to Dean. "Did you bring her here?"
Dean gave him an incredulous look, but Elena beat him to it.
"What the hell are you talking about?" she exclaimed, voicing Dean's thoughts. "We're here because you didn't call in two weeks. Of course I was going to check if something was wrong!"
"You shouldn't have come," he said with a sigh, slowly shaking his head. "You don't understand—"
"Oh good, you're all awake," said Greenwood, who finally made his appearance. He was still in the suit, and in Dean's opinion, looked like more of a dick up close. "We've been hanging out here, Jack and me. Just chatting."
"What is this, your Batcave?" Dean quipped. "Where the hell are we?"
"Somewhere secluded a couple miles east of the highway. But you knew that already, didn't you?" said Greenwood. He stood in the middle of the sparsely furnished room with his arms crossed.
"I usually prefer wining and dinning before a kidnapping," Elena blurted. She was trying and failing to get a handle on the well of helplessness mounting and couldn't help but ramble. This guy was dangerous, and smart, and God knows how he had seen them coming for miles away.
Greenwood raised an amused brow at her.
"Yes, well, do excuse me. I don't believe we've properly met. Maybe that's because you so rudely broke into my girlfriend's apartment and tried to kill me." He gestured behind him with a sweep of his hand.
A young woman was tied up similarly to them, unconscious. Suddenly Elena felt nauseous, that poor thing. Then she noticed something.
"Um…is it just me, or…" she trailed, and looked over at Dean. He looked just as weirded out as she was.
She looked slender, fair in complexion with long black hair framing a pretty face.
It was nearly as if a shapeshifter had copied Elena.
But on further inspection, there were a few differences. Even sitting down, she could see this woman was taller with longer legs, and Elena's hair was not as dark, just on the side of brunette.
"If she's your girlfriend, why's she tied up and knocked out?" Dean asked flatly. Greenwood smiled.
"Well, obviously she's not my real girlfriend. But Rachel here is just what I need: feisty, though you can't really tell right now, resilient, and nearly the spitting image."
"Of who?" asked Dean.
"My Mirah, of course," said Greenwood, with a grandiose gesture of his hands, as if they were supposed to know exactly who he was talking about. After a second, Dean's eyes grew wide.
"You've gotta be kidding me," he deadpanned. "You're summoning a demon."
"Not exactly a demon," said Jack. "Kind of a demon's cousin."
"Who happens to be his undead lover," Elena muttered, more to herself than anything. "How did I end up in Twilight?"
"If that's true, then why'd it take you five tries to summon her?" Dean asked. Greenwood let out a longsuffering sigh.
"I couldn't find the right host. All of their hearts gave out," he said. "Not resilient enough. And this spell is so particular."
Which is why he had to wait twenty-five years to try again. It sounded like this had been a longtime frustration for him.
"So you made them look like suicide, or accidental," Elena surmised. The nausea was getting worse by the minute.
"Hmm, yes. I'm glad we got all that cleared up, but I have a few things to do before midnight rolls around in," Greenwood checked his watch, "Half an hour. But you all can amuse yourselves in the meantime."
He began walking away, but then turned back as if suddenly remembering something.
"And, um…don't bother trying to get out of those bonds. Magically sealed and all that," he added. "And you're bound to where you sit. But don't worry! I'll be right back."
"Asshole," Dean muttered when the witch finally left the room.
"No kidding," said Elena, but then she pinned Dean with a sharp look. "You knew, didn't you? About the witch wanting a host that fits nearly my exact physical description, thing. And you didn't tell me."
"No, I didn't know," Dean said honestly, but now he felt like an ass now knowing why Jack was glaring at him.
"Are you two happy?" asked Jack in frustration. "Now if he needs a spare sacrifice, he has one."
"Listen, if you would have just told me what was going on, we wouldn't be in this mess," she said, and met her father's glare with her own.
"You and I both know that wouldn't have made a difference," he said sourly. "If anything, it would have gotten you here faster."
"And maybe if I had, we would've had more time to plan a rescue."
"You're too fucking stubborn for your own good, you know that?"
"Right back at you," she spat. "You know, I'm sick and tired of you trying to control my life while pushing me away at the same time. I'm not a little girl who needs her hand held!"
"That may be true," said Jack, "but like it or not, you're not cut out to be a hunter."
Elena's eyes widened, and she wasn't quite able to mask the hurt quick enough. Dean saw it though.
"You've got the skill, even the head for it," Jack clarified, and stared at his daughter with stone-cold sincerity. "But you don't have the stomach for it."
For a moment, it was quiet. The echoes died on the hard stone walls, but the tension remained. Until Elena eventually found her voice.
"If that's true," she said evenly, "maybe I'm better off. I'd hate to end up like you…sad and bitter, and determined to be alone."
Jack pursed his lips, his jaw clenching in anger.
"Look, stop it, all right?" Dean said firmly, his voice boding no argument. "We need to concentrate here. I don't know where Sam is, but we've only got a little bit of time to figure out what we're going to do."
Sam had reached the back of the house, but turned quick when he heard his brother's shout of alarm. Around the corner he saw a flash of white, and cautiously made his way toward the side window. The curtains were peeled back enough so he could see into the living room. It was a small, but homely place with frames on the walls and, among other furnishings, shelves and a couch. A young woman lay unconscious on it, her arm hanging off the side.
On the verge of what he could see, Sam saw his brother and Elena on the floor, also unconscious, with a man staring down at them pensively. And then, with a flick of his hand, their bodies raised from the ground and floated through the front door, followed closely by who Sam could pretty much assume was Greenwood.
He silently retraced his steps to the back of the house and watched from a safe distance as Greenwood packed the two hunters and the woman into an SUV, first tying their hands and feet together before shutting the doors and climbing into the driver's side himself.
Sam sighed.
Dean would kill him for hot-wiring the Impala, but without the keys, he was shit out of luck.
"W-What…what am I doing here?" croaked a scared voice. The three of them turned to the young woman, now awake, but wide-eyed and confused. "What the hell?"
"You're Rachel, right?" Elena asked gently. The other woman nodded.
"Nick…he knocked me out," she said, tears welling in her eyes. "Where are we?"
"We're somewhere east of the city," said Dean, "Don't worry though. We're getting out of here."
"Yeah, keep telling yourself that," said an annoyingly familiar voice. When Greenwood stepped out from a doorway back into the room, he was met by four similar glares. "Wow, tough room."
"You're a sick bastard!" Rachel shouted and stood up as well as she could with her ankles tied together, but was unable to move forward more than a step before an invisible force stopped her. Her face was the picture of utter confusion as desperate tears began to stream down her face.
"Yeah, yeah. Sit down and shut up." With a wave of a hand Rachel was forcibly sat on the ground against the far wall. She still glared at him angrily, but gave up on shouting expletives.
In his hands he held two bowls filled with ingredients that he began strategically placing in the center of the room. Dean recognized most of it as seriously bad hoodoo. Eventually, Greenwood stopped to admire his handiwork, then looked down at his watch.
Midnight.
"Right on time." He turned behind him to grin at Rachel. "Your turn to shine, sweetheart."
"Don't!" Dean shouted, but Greenwood ignored him completely. He dragged Rachel, literally kicking and screaming to the center of the room and forced her into a kneeling position.
Where the hell are you, Sammy? Dean thought furiously.
"Goddamn it!"
Sam slapped the wheel in frustration. That was the third SUV that disappeared right before his eyes, just as he was getting close to it. The witch had placed trigger-spells on his trigger-spells to make sure he wasn't being followed, which meant Sam was already halfway out of the city going north, and now no closer to finding his brother.
Unless…
Shit…I'm an idiot.
He stopped on the side of the road and pulled out his phone, and after dialing in a couple different codes, he successfully activated a GPS map and location of where Dean's phone was heading.
Fifteen minutes southwest.
Sam sighed, locked the car into drive, and pulled an immediate u-turn.
Greenwood stretched out his hand and began the incantation in Latin, and the farther he got the more Rachel began to shake. Her tears fell and dried, and then her eyes opened wide as Greenwood's voice grew louder. From the contents of the bowl, now ash as a result of the spell, rose a plume of red smoke. It coiled through the air for a moment until entering Rachel's mouth.
She slumped forward and Greenwood caught her, removing the magic seal on her binds then ripping them off with a knife. He cupped Rachel's face in his hands and brushed the hair away from her face. After a few seconds, her eyes slid open, her mouth curving into a soft smile.
"My love?" Greenwood whispered reverently. Her hand came to rest over his left.
"Yes." Already her voice was different from the scared young woman she was before. It was deeper, calculated and smooth as silk. "You've saved me."
"Did you ever doubt that I would?" Greenwood said with a tender smile. "My Mirah." Dean rolled his eyes as the two shared a passionate kiss. This was why he steered clear of soap operas and chick flicks.
"Ugh, if you're gunna use tongue get your own room," he said, attracting the monster's attention. For that was what it was now. Rachel may still be buried down there, but there was no way to tell.
"And who is this?" Her voice was as velvet smooth as her movements as she rose to a stand with Greenwood unnecessarily assisting her. Her eyes fell on each captive. "Are these for me?"
"Dean Winchester, according to his wallet," said her lover. Dean glared. "And yes, if you want them."
"You took my weapons and pickpocketed me?"
"Winchester," Mirah said pensively. "I know that name."
After a moment, a slow smile graced her features.
"Ah…I remember now. Your dad is a famous one in the pit."
Dean stiffened, but outwardly didn't allow himself to react to her words.
"Yes, you're the family that tried so hard to kill Azazel," she said. "Too bad it didn't quite work out like you hoped, huh?"
Dean remained silent, but his cold look spoke for itself.
"Hmm, I don't have to read you to know about your little family hardships. Practically every demon in hell knows about the Winchesters," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "But then again, I'm not really considered part of the family."
"Why's that, if you're supposed to be so special," Jack interrupted. It was his attempt to stall for time; the creature's entertainment wouldn't last much longer when she got hungry.
Mirah glanced over at Jack with what was at first disinterest, but the more she looked at him, curiosity grew in her features.
"My, my. You look half dead already." She sent Greenwood an amused glance. He shrugged.
"I was bored," he said casually. "He thought he could sneak up on me."
Mirah sighed, then finally addressed Jack's question.
"Not that it matters terribly, but my kind were created by Lucifer long ago. The name your language gave us is…strange and tacky, if you ask me. But your folklore has most of its facts correct," she said absently.
"Sounds like you're just B-list entertainment for Hell," Elena muttered. Jack sent her a warning look, but it was too late to put the thought back inside her head where she hadn't intended it to come out. Oops.
"Well, you're rude," said Mirah, her mouth curving in a smirk. "Was this supposed to be an alternate vessel, Nickolas?"
"No. She came along with that one," said Greenwood, gesturing over at Dean. Mirah drew nearer to Elena with an inquisitive gaze.
"Hmm, I like the body I have on better. It's taller, more athletic. This one is darker, more dull-looking." Sharp blue eyes met fearful gray.
"What, shopping for eyes?" Elena snapped. Mirah's smirk deepened.
"Sure, want to trade?" She grabbed Elena's face with one hand, nails biting into her cheeks. "Or I can just take them."
"Stay away from her!"
Mirah tilted her head to the side and gave Jack a cursory glance. She turned back to Elena, and something clicked in her mind.
"Ah, I see we have a family reunion here." She looked over at Jack. "Was this supposed to be your rescue party?"
Jack's furious glare was answer enough. To both his and Dean's relief, she let go of Elena and backed away slightly.
"And what are you?" she asked Dean.
"What's it matter to you?"
"Wait, wait…don't you have a brother?"
"He didn't come."
"I highly doubt that."
"Believe what you want, but I left him five states over."
"If he's here, we won't have to worry about him. I spelled my truck," Greenwood chimed in. "Gave whoever tried to tail me something to keep them going for a while."
Dean only barely reacted, but Mirah caught it and laughed.
"It's adorable sometimes, humanity."
"Shouldn't you take offence to that?" Elena asked Greenwood, who so far had done nothing but stand leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
"Why should I? It's not me she's referring to."
Mirah looked over at Elena, something passing through her expression that Elena couldn't name.
"You're a curious one."
"Must be my magnetic charm," she quipped.
"More like an inflated sense of self."
"Oh bite me," Elena said with a roll of her eyes. At a speed she couldn't follow, Mirah appeared crouched in front of her, wearing a smirk that curved wickedly.
"Fine."
She gripped Elena's face firmly under her chin toward her jaw line, and both their eyes closed as the creature stole the information she sought. The force of the invasion took Elena by surprise, the lore hadn't said anything about creepy X-Men powers. But Mirah's grip kept her from being able to struggle much. Elena wanted to shudder at the feeling of inky claws probing through her mind, and a small, strangled whimper escaped her at the strain of it. Distantly she thought she heard her father's angry shouting, and while Mirah ignored him, after a few seconds she let go and stepped back. There's was a contemptuous smile on her face when she looked down at Elena.
Mirah shuddered slightly. "It's like swimming through mud in there."
Elena was still trying to breathe easier, but she managed out, "No one asked you to come barging in." Son of a bitch, that hurt.
"You okay?" Dean asked, and she saw the concern in his eyes, as well as Jack's.
"M' fine." Mirah laughed at that.
"Oh, my dear. That's actually almost funny," she said, and crouched in front of Elena, peering deeply into her eyes. She spoke softly, but her voice was ice and poison. "I see now. A frightenedchild, still clinging to a shadow of a memory. Of a family."
Elena looked away, but Mirah grabbed her face again.
"But didn't that end a long time ago?" she asked. Her eyes widened in mock surprise. "Oh…you killed someone."
Elena froze.
"…You bitch," Jack cursed lowly, leaving Dean to stare at Elena in confusion. He saw the way her expression remained blank, other than her jaw clenching and her eyes turning hard, versus Mirah's devious smirk. It was almost like looking at a dual reflection, with one side fractured and wrong.
"Don't tell me you don't remember," Mirah cooed, and wrapped a strand of Elena's hair around her finger. "No one likes a liar."
"That's not what happened," Elena said, the tremor in her voice the true indication of how the creature's words were affecting her. Mirah smiled in response and let the coil of hair fall against Elena's cheek.
"Let it happen. Pull the trigger." She straightened and stepped away with a shrug. "Same thing."
"That's not what happened." Mirah spun on her heel and gave a cold sneer.
"Then what did happen?"
Elena's eyes grew distant, haunted. Dean felt helpless. Where the hell was Sam?
"Lena," he called, but if she heard him she didn't acknowledge him.
"That's…that's not what happened," she repeated. Her voice was coarse.
"You were supposed to be watching him," the creature pointed out, and crossed her arms.
"Three minutes, was it?" Mirah taunted. "Enough for Jamie-boy to find Daddy's glock and choke on some Russian roulette."
Dean watched as frustrated tears spilled down Elena's cheeks, and he looked over at Jack, who he thought was being too damn quiet. He was almost angry at the man for not even trying to stick up for his daughter, to protect her, but the older man's eyes were clouded with an old pain, and guilt.
Dean didn't have the time to think about that, though—he bristled when the creature grabbed a fistful of Elena's hair and yanked her head back against the wall, ignoring the grunt of pain it elicited from her.
"Hey!" The creature ignored his shout and continued her onslaught. Jack was struggling furiously in his bonds, futilely, while Greenwood continued to watch with obvious amusement.
"You were the older sister, right," she reminded. "You were supposed to protect him, watch out for him, save him."
The tears fell freely now, but she refused to give into the hopelessness she felt. Sam was still out there somewhere. There was still time for him to find them.
"Don't you see?" Mirah shook her head. "Try isn't good enough. It's weak, and always too, too late…right, Dean?"
Now Dean really wanted to stab this bitch in the face.
"Go fuck yourself."
"Ooh, testy," she teased. "But the truth is, you know all about that don't you? It wasn't enough that you failed John Winchester, but Sam too?"
Dean felt Elena's eyes on him, but he avoided meeting her stare, even as Mirah invaded his personal space. He'd rather her attention be on him now.
"And you just couldn't take it," she said, and her voice was incredulous, as if she was marveled by humanity. "That's why your head is on the chopping block now, right?"
"My God, do you ever stop fucking talking?" said Dean. He'd had enough of the demon-psychoanalysis they liked to throw around at the drop of a dime. All it did was waste time, and severely piss him off.
Mirah rolled her eyes and looked back at Nickolas with a questioning look. He shrugged and stepped out from the background to stand beside her.
"Hmm, well," she said, "Perhaps that's all the entertainment I can scrounge from you. I've never been one for fast food, but—"
And then everything happened at once.
A single gunshot rang through the air before the intruder was caught, his gun falling out of his hands and sliding across the ground.
"Sam!" Dean called out, though there wasn't much he could do but stand up, with Mirah standing a foot in front of him. Nickolas pinned the younger Winchester with the raise of his hand and began choking him, but the witch soon slid to the floor as two out of three iron bullets embedded themselves into his back. Mirah cried in outrage at seeing her lover lying dead in a pool of his own blood, and whipped around to face the culprit.
Elena would have pulled the trigger again, but the other woman moved with inhuman speed and knocked the gun out of her still bound hands. Her eyes widened and she tensed, waiting for the finishing blow.
But the creature spun around, catching the knife headed toward her neck by the hand that held it and twisted, eliciting a sharp yell. Her other hand closed around his throat.
"Dad!" Elena shouted, but couldn't move very well with the way she was bound around her ankles, nor would she with Mirah holding Jack as a human shield against Sam and Dean, who'd by now freed himself from his bonds with Sam's help. Mirah's eyes were wild as tears trailed down her face, but she laughed like the demon she was.
"You know what's so utterly satisfying about this?" she asked Elena. Everyone stared, waiting for the moment to end the stalemate. "I don't have to kill him."
Elena couldn't beat down the flutter of hope that swelled in her chest.
"You already feel like an orphan."
Jack's eyes widened, surprise and hurt piercing the mask of his features, then understanding, and guilt.
"But I will anyway."
Mirah let go of him, but stabbed her arm all the way through Jack's middle, then yanked it back out. Elena screamed, Jack gasped a bit for air and fell to his knees before his daughter.
Sam and Dean pumped the creature's body full of bullets before she could come near them, but both knew it wasn't enough. Elena had sunk to her knees, and her clothes became more and more soaked with blood as she tried to hold her father and support his torso to try and get some air into his lungs. It wasn't any use. But unlike the movies, there were no famous last words.
There was no last minute apology. For either of them.
There were only three dead bodies, and Elena sobbing on the floor, covered in blood that wasn't her own. After a few seconds, Dean put his gun away and knelt down next to her. She stiffened when he touched her shoulder, but he finished cutting the ropes from her wrists and ankles so she could freely cling to her father.
Sam knelt on her other side, squeezing her shoulder in support. They stayed where they were until her tears subsided, until she was spent.
That night, they burnt each of the bodies, of Rachel and Nickolas Greenwood, and everything in the cave. They gave Jack Hayes a hunter's funeral, burning his body surrounded by the hills and sparse trees of Utah. Sam and Dean allowed Elena some time to herself by the fire as they put away their weapons into the Impala.
"Tell me something, Sam," said Dean. "Where were you?"
"He sent me on a wild goose chase, Dean. I followed his car for miles around town before I finally caught up with it," Sam said tiredly. "It was an illusion spell to keep me off his tail."
"How did you find us then?" Dean asked after a moment. Sam scratched the back of his head.
"Well…when that didn't work, I tried the GPS on your phone. Greenwood must've forgotten to turn it off."
"Lucky it fell out of my pocket in the car." But Dean didn't feel very lucky. "We should probably head out, get our stuff out of the motel. I gotta call Bobby…could you go get her?"
Sam nodded and looked over at the woman standing with her head bowed, arms wrapped around herself. A conflicted look passed over his face for a moment, before he started walking over to her. He made sure to let gravel crunch under his foot so he wouldn't take her off guard, and hesitantly stepped next to her.
"Are we going?" Her voice was coarse and small.
"Only if you're ready," Sam said gently. Something twisted in his gut, rose up his chest and into his throat.
If I'd just figured out he was playing me sooner…
"I'm so sorry, Lena."
Sorry I wasn't able to save him. Sorry you have to get on in life like the rest of us.
"Sam, when…when it was you…and Dean…how did you walk away from here?"
He paused, confused. She caught the look out of the corner of her eye.
"From standing here."
When it wasn't Jack Hayes slowly turning to ash. Sam finally understood.
He let out a long breath, turned his face up to the sky. It was full of stars, and he wondered if his dad was at peace now. Now that he wasn't in Hell. He knew what it was like not to end on the best of terms…well, he knew she wouldn't want to hear about that any time soon.
He set a gentle hand on her shoulder, tried to meet her gaze, but Elena's was turned downward, allowing a tear to escape her eye.
She let him guide her back to the car.