A/N: Personally, this is my favorite chapter so far. I hope you guys enjoy it. Leave me a review even if you hate it ;)
A couple days later, after Sam had been able to rest, Carmen awoke to the buzzing of her cell phone in the early morning. Sam was still fast asleep, his whole body entangled with hers. The full nights of sleep from the past two nights had done him good; the bruising on his face and over his arms was already starting to fade and the wounds on his chest were healing. Carmen picked up her phone and flipped it open to find, not to her surprise, more coordinates.
Carmen forwarded the message to Dean. He was staying in another room, separate from Sam and Carmen, but she was sure he wasn't lonely. The previous night, she had seen him with a girl on each of his arms while entering the motel room. She assumed they provided exactly the type of company Dean craved.
The trio spent most of the day in Sam and Carmen's motel room, allowing Sam as much time to rest as possible before they got back out on the road and started the next hunt. Carmen said it was for Sam's benefit, this short break that they were taking, but it was for herself as well. Spending time alone with Sam had healed her from the draining hunt where she was forced to face her past. Although Carmen could never recover from what happened to her during her childhood, having Sam by her side made the memories bearable, and sleeping enfolded in his arms kept the nightmares at bay.
"So, how ya feeling, Sammy? Ready to get back on the road again?" Dean asked as he unpacked lunch later that day.
"I've been ready. And I've been researching the coordinates Dad sent us." Carmen looked up from her sandwich. "It's not far from here, about a five hour drive. The town's called Cooper, in Pennsylvania. Local legend says there is a real live haunted house there. The town's people won't go near it, but every once in a while the police get reports of a break in, usually kids trying to scare themselves. Never anything weird, however, last week, a young woman was found hanging from the ceiling."
"Suicide note?" Carmen asked.
"No. Worth the ride, I think."
After lunch, they were on the road heading to Pennsylvania. Carmen slept for most of the ride. Although she felt well rested from the break, it felt good to be able to sleep without nightmares, so she gorged herself on it, knowing it wouldn't last forever.
Dean woke Carmen after dark, when they had found a motel. It was no different from the last one they had stayed in. They carried in their bags and Sam grabbed his laptop.
"Carmen and I will go check out the house. Sammy, why don't you go to the library, see what you can find out about the house's history."
"Dean, I've been sitting cooped up in a motel room for over forty-eight hours."
"Yeah, so?"
"So, I don't feel like spending any more time sitting on my ass." Sam tossed his laptop at Dean's chest. "Carmen and I will go check out the house, you do the research this time."
Dean groaned. "Fine," he grumbled. "Drop me off."
Carmen and Sam arrived at the apparently haunted house. The place definitely looked haunted. It was located on the side of a mountain that gave Carmen the chills. It was bleak, clearly abandoned, and structurally unsound. It may have been the only civilization on the mountain; there was nothing else for miles. They got out of the Impala and stealthily scoped the place out. Sam shined the flashlight inside the dirty windows, but they were opaque and nothing could be seen. Carmen tried the door; it was locked but not bolted.
"Sam," she whispered. She motioned him to the door. He kicked it; it opened with a clang and then splintered apart. Carmen aimed her gun, but there was no one around.
"I'll check upstairs," Carmen whispered. "You get the basement." Sam nodded, and they split up.
Sam encountered the rusty basement door. It hung open, but he could see only darkness behind it. He opened it fully to shed what little light he could, and then descended the stairs.
The dank basement smelled dingy and molded. Jars of human remains lined the shelves; small bits of fur and hair littered the floor; he even found a fingernail lodged into the wall. A glint of silver caught his eye: it came from a small knife sitting on a table with a ruby hilt. The blade was so short that he doubted it would do much damage in a fight. The basement smelled of rotting wood and blood, although he could see no traces of red. He searched around the walls and shelves but found nothing alive.
Sam jumped when he felt something touch his leg, but it was only his phone vibrating in his pocket. It was Dean's number on the I.D.
"Hey, what'd you find out?"
"Well, I talked to the dead girls friends, and they say she was depressed. And I don't mean boyfriend break-up depressed, I mean really, clinically depressed. She was taking medication, but it looks like she stopped towards the last few weeks. I think she killed herself, Sammy. It's a sad story, but it doesn't look like anything supernatural was going on there."
"What about with the history of the house? Anything off beat?"
"Nothing. It was built in the early 19th century, so of course it's going to be creepy and decaying, and no strange deaths have ever taken place there. I don't think this is a supernatural gig, Sam."
"Then what was Dad's purpose in sending us here? You think he just made a mistake?"
"It's possible."
"You sure man? Because this place is really creepy." Sam picked up one of the jars and examined a floating eyeball.
"Yeah, well some of those kids who broke in must have fixed it up that way. I'm pretty sure about this one."
Sam groaned. "Alright, I'll grab Carmen and meet you back at the room." Sam flipped the phone shut.
He turned to ascend the stairs, but a noise made him suddenly turn and aim his gun into a dark corner. He grabbed his flashlight and illuminated the space; Carmen was standing with her back to him and her arms across her chest. He lowered his weapon.
"Jesus, C, you scared me."
"Hello, Sam," she said ominously. She turned, and her eyes were a glistening, terrifying yellow.
And suddenly, Sam remembered those eyes. He flashed back to when he was a baby, to the night his mother was killed. He was in his crib, the music from his radio lulling him to sleep. Then he saw those giant, yellow, bulbous eyes over his head. The Demon took out a knife and sliced the flesh on its own wrist. The blood ran red, Sam remembered it, and he remembered the taste as The Demon squeezed the blood into his mouth.
"You!" He exclaimed. He aimed his gun between Carmen's eyes.
"Ah, ah! You don't want to hurt your little girlfriend." The demon taunted.
"Get out of her." Sam said.
"Why would I want to do that?" The demon asked with a mocking tone. "It's so soft, and warm inside her body...but you already know that, don't you Sammy?" It cackled.
"What do you want with her?" The anger in his face and his voice was evident.
"Oh, I don't want anything with her. It's you that I want, Sam. Everything that is happening here revolves around you." Sam scrutinized the bright yellow eyes.
"Why do you want me dead so badly, huh?" Sam screeched.
"Oh, I don't want you dead! I want you strong. I just came to have a little chat, Sam. I think it's important that you know what I have planned for you. You see, you're special. These visions you've been having? They're courtesy of the power I gave you."
"You mean when you spilled demon blood in me?" He bellowed.
"A little gratitude would be appreciated! I made you strong. In return, I'm going to need you to do something for me."
"I'm not doing anything for you." Sam spat.
"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. I am aware that you think you can resist. But you can't. I am going to take everything from you, Sam. I'm going to kill everyone you've ever loved, until you have nothing left, until you are so broken that you'll have no other choice but to fulfill your destiny."
"Which is what, to turn evil? What is one more evil demon going to do for you, how will that help you?"
"Your destiny isn't just to turn evil, Sam. Your destiny is to lead evil in the war against humanity. But you can't do that if you're tied down to all these people who love you. And little Carmen here? I'm going to make sure she's the next to be slaughtered. I already got mommy and pretty little Jess out of the way. Dean, and John, and Bobby are all on the list as well."
"Don't you dare hurt them," Sam warned through gritted teeth.
"Or what? You'll kill me? Let's see if you can." The bright yellow color disappeared from Carmen's eyes and her body fell to the ground, temporarily uninhabited. Sam raced over to her, but she was up again before he could help her.
"Sam." She stared at his worried face. "Sam, it's in me, the demon's still inside me. You have to kill it!"
Sam was shocked. "What? No, Carmen, I'm not-
"Sam, you have to shoot me! Come on, we have to kill it! Do it!" She grabbed the barrel of the gun and put it to her forehead. "Sam, pull the trigger!"
"No!"
"Sam!"
The intense light in her eyes suddenly went out and her body was on the floor again.
"Carmen!" He knelt next to her and put his hand to her heart. But before he knew what was happening, an invisible force threw him up against the wall, where he was pinned and immobile. The demon stood up and faced him.
"Oh, Sam. I knew you wouldn't hurt her. She's just too precious, and you're just too predictable." It came so close to Sam's face that he could smell Carmen's flowery perfume. "But you should have killed her."
With Sam unable to move, the demon slowly grabbed the blade with the ruby hilt. It flashed Carmen's perfect white teeth in a taunting smile before thrusting the blade into her side.
"NO!" Sam shouted. Then the demon left her body and she was back.
Carmen held her side where the blade stuck out with shock on her face. Sam was released from the invisible chains holding him back and he rushed to her side. She ripped the blade out of her torso and fell to her knees.
"Carmen!"
"Sam, I'm fine. Shut up," she barked, gritting her teeth from the pain. She was breathing heavily and a pool of blood was forming on the floor. "The Demon didn't hit anything vital."
"We have to stop the bleeding. I've got to get you to Dean." He lifted her off the ground and carried her to the Impala.
"Shit, Dean's going to kill me for bleeding all over his seats." Carmen panted as Sam gently set her down in the Impala. Her face was becoming pale and sweaty.
"Here, hold this against the wound." Sam pulled a cloth from the backseat and gave it to Carmen.
"Thanks," she winced.
Sam was cloaked by the darkness as he carried Carmen back to the motel room.
"Dean!" he called. Dean jumped up from his seat as the motel room door slammed shut behind Sam.
"What happened?" He exclaimed as he took in Carmen's bloody figure in Sam's arms.
"Sam got me stabbed." She joked as her head lulled into Sam's chest.
"The demon was possessing her." Sam corrected as he laid her on the bed. "It made her stab herself."
"He was in her? You had it in your sights; why didn't you take it out?" Dean said.
"Because he's a bitch." Carmen replied weakly.
"Because I wasn't going to kill you, Carmen!" Sam shot angrily.
"Alright, alright!" Dean yelled over Sam. "Carmen, take your shirt off."
"Dean, this isn't the best time to be hitting on me." She removed her shirt with Sam's assistance.
Dean ignored her and examined the wound. "Sam, get my duffel."
"Am I going to live, Doctor?" Carmen asked.
"Not if you keep talking like a smart ass." He looked at her and smiled warmly, but with worry in his eyes.
"Dean, just patch her up." Sam ordered. Dean cleaned the gash, which hurt like hell, but Carmen knew it was nothing compared to what was coming.
"Sam," Dean gave Sam a look that Carmen couldn't see, and Sam knelt beside her.
"Just hold still, alright?" Sam looked into her eyes with remorse. He held one strong arm over her chest to prevent her from moving, and Dean pierced her with the needle.
"AH! Son of a bitch!" Carmen interlocked her fingers with Sam's and squeezed; it only helped a little.
After Dean was finished, Carmen was no longer bleeding. A throbbing pain in her side was the only thing that persisted.
"You okay?" Sam asked when Dean was finished. She nodded weakly.
"Here, take these, they'll help with the pain." Dean tossed her a prescription bottle. "Sam, you ready?" He asked. Sam nodded, but looked sadly back at Carmen. He didn't want to leave her there alone, but they had to search for The Demon. They had never been this close before, and Sam wanted it dead now more than ever.
"And, what, I'm just supposed to lay here?" Carmen said incredulously.
"That's exactly what you're supposed to do." Dean said firmly. He reminded her, for just one second, of John.
"But that blade barely even did any damage, I'm fi-"
"You're staying here." Dean cut her off. "I don't want you walking around; don't even get up until Sam and I get back, you hear? You don't want to be pulling those stitches out; I'll have to torture you all over again." Carmen looked as if she might argue, but changed her mind and just nodded.
Sam returned without Dean at three in the morning. After they had battled The Demon, Sam knew the trail was cold, and he wanted to get back to check on Carmen. But Dean wasn't ready to give up. He stayed and tried to track it. Sam quietly unlocked the motel room door and placed his bag on the chair. His shirt was ripped in several places and his cheek was throbbing and bloody; he could feel a bruise forming where The Demon had struck him.
He thought about what The Demon had said to him today. It threatened every person that meant everything to him. It didn't even give him an ultimatum. It was a straight threat. Should he tell Dean and Carmen? What would they think, what would they say if they knew The Demon was planning to turn him evil? This thing needed to be killed.
Sam glanced over at Carmen; she was sleeping in the exact spot where they had left her hours before. He could see the rise and fall of her chest underneath the pistol she was clutching to it. He recognized it as the one she usually kept under her pillow. He carefully lifted her hand and removed the gun from her grasp.
He stared at her peaceful face for a moment before going into the bathroom. Without turning on the light, he examined himself in the mirror. How could they let The Demon escape? It was there, in their grasp, and they let it get away. Dean would say that it was for a second time that night, but Sam knew that if Dean were put in his position, he couldn't have hurt Carmen either.
To escape from his reflection, and because his body and mind were in pain, Sam knelt down below the sink, resting his head against the cool tile. When he stood up, he saw Carmen looming in the doorway, watching him. She understood that the night had not been successful. Without a word, she slipped between Sam and the counter. She looked up into his eyes, and placed her hands on either side of his face. She gently moved his head so the purple bruise caught the moonlight. She examined the injury, then raked her eyes over his bloody, mutilated shirt, gently running her fingers over the places that were cut. She glanced up at his face – he was watching her intently. She lifted his shirt up over his head for a closer examination of his wounds.
They didn't look too bad. Carmen took the peroxide from the counter and a clean cloth and cleaned the cut on his chest, then the one on his hip. He did not make a sound, nor did his face betray any pain. She took a rag, drenched it in cold water, and took it to the bloody bruise on his face. All the while Sam watched her.
To clean the cuts on his neck, Carmen stood with her arm around him and her body pressed against his. She slowly stroked the wet rag from behind his ear down to his collarbone, pausing with the rag resting on his chest. She could feel his eyes on her, and he unconsciously turned his face down towards hers. She looked up at him, and slowly, so very slowly, he closed the gap between them and his lips found hers. The kiss was sweet and unsure at first, but then they both became dangerously passionate.
Carmen's lips were soft and they held their own as Sam pressed his against them. Putting both hands around her waist, he lifted her up onto the counter so she wouldn't have to reach up to his lips. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he kissed her even more eagerly. He removed her t-shirt and his lips grazed her body and then came back up to her mouth.
Sam lifted Carmen from her seat on the counter and strongly carried her to the bed. He was on top of her in an instant. His hands were all over her – in her hair; on her body; behind her back; tracing her lips. Then she was on top of him. He didn't expect her to be so sexy; the innocent, tentative lover he knew before was now all grown up and making him feel things that he never had before.
The dark night passed in a rush of passion and sensation until it was light.
The next morning was dreary as rain poured down outside the motel window. Dean came back into the room and found Sam and Carmen lying in bed together, and he guessed at what had gone down the night before. They were both still asleep. He silently chuckled to himself at finally finding them together. He picked up a tin bowl off the motel table and dropped it to the floor with a loud clang.
"Shit!" Sam exclaimed, bleary eyed, aiming a gun at Dean. "DEAN! What the hell are you doing!"
"Being an immature ass, as usual." Carmen sighed as she laid her head back down, covering her exposed body with the sheet.
"Well, look at you two." Dean chuckled again. "This has been marinating for a long time. A long time. Ha! I can't believe it!"
"Leave, Dean." Carmen ordered, but she gave Sam a sly glance.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going. But we're leaving in less than an hour so get your nude asses out of bed and dressed. I'm so done with this town." He left, grumbling.
Sam sighed. He kissed Carmen on the forehead. "I'm going to get in the shower."
"Want some company?" Carmen flashed him a smile. He chuckled and went into the bathroom. She watched him go. But before he could start the shower running, his face reappeared from behind the door.
"I wanted to ask you…" He grinned. "When did you get that tattoo?"
Carmen laughed loudly. "Dean and I got rid of a poltergeist that was tormenting a tattoo parlor. The owner was so grateful, he said we could get anything we wanted for free so…"
Sam just laughed as he disappeared into the bathroom.
But when Carmen got up to follow him, she nearly fell right back down on the bed. Vertigo overcame her and she wobbled on her feet. Her vision blurred, so she laid back down.
"What happened?" Sam asked Carmen after he got out of the bathroom. She was still laying down.
"Sorry. I just feel a little weird."
"Oh. Well, I guess it's normal to feel awkward, but-"
"Sam, no, not about that." She chortled. "I mean physically. I feel…weak and dizzy. I had to lie down."
"You've been taking those pain meds?" He asked her.
"Yeah, I took two a little while ago."
"Well they're going to make your mind a little fuzzy. Those, combined with a bad nights sleep-"
"I slept fine," she said with a wicked smile.
He grinned. "Fine, a short night's sleep then. I'm not surprised you're feeling this way. You can sleep in the car though." He kissed her on the forehead, dropped his towel, and started dressing.
An hour later, they were packed and in the Impala. Dean still had a smug look on his face as they drove away from the motel. Conversation passed between Sam and Dean, but all the while, Carmen was silent in the back seat. Something didn't feel right. At first she leaned her head against the cool window, but eventually she was lying down with her head on the leather. Every once in a while, Sam would reach back and put a hand on her leg, or glance back to give her a wink.
They hadn't made it far out of town before Carmen realized that something was seriously wrong with her. She couldn't hide it any longer. She tuned in to the brothers' conversation.
"Well how the hell did The Demon find you, Sam, how did it even know what state we were in?"
"I don't know, Dean, maybe he can track us somehow!"
"Sam," Carmen whispered weakly.
"How the hell could he be tracking you? Did you check yourself, make sure you're not bugged?"
"Dean, he's a demon, he's not going to put some technological tracking device on me!"
"Sam," she whispered again.
"So then what? How the hell did he find you? We can't let this happen again."
"Sam," Carmen said with as much force as she could muster.
"What!" He yelled at her, heated from arguing with Dean.
She didn't answer, or rather, couldn't answer. When she was silent, Sam glanced back at her. The state she was in made him do a double take.
"Carmen?" He exclaimed. All traces of anger in his voice were replaced by distress.
Dean read the worry in Sam's voice and hastily glanced back at Carmen. "Oh, my God." He whispered. Her face was almost pure white, and her veins stood out blue against her papery skin. Sweat dewed up over her face, and her lips were just as pale and white as her skin. Hollow circles had appeared under her eyes, making her look distinctly grave. The way she looked shot terror through Sam's chest.
"Dean, pull over." Sam said, and Dean obeyed. Sam jumped out of the car and opened the back door. Placing his hands on either side of her face, he discovered the cold. "She's freezing."
"Why, what happened?" Dean asked frantically.
"I don't know!" Sam examined the delirious Carmen. He lifted her shirt and found that her stab wound was infected. "Dean, look at this." The stiches had disappeared altogether, blood was oozing from the wound, and the skin around it was red and scabbed. "What's happening to her?"
Dean shook his head. They were in the middle of nowhere, on a deserted road out of town, with no knowledge of what was happening to her. All Dean knew was that she was in bad shape. He could see her becoming paler and weaker by the second. He jumped out of the Impala, whipped out his phone and called the only person he could think of.
"Bobby? Bobby, I need your help."
"Carmen," Sam whispered as he tried to get her to see straight. His throat clogged up with emotion, and his eyes stung with tears. "Carmen, listen, you have to look at me." Her eyes focused for a moment on his face. "You have to stay with me, okay? Dean's getting you help."
"Yeah," she breathed. Her whole body was shaking. Sam removed his jacket and placed it over her like a blanket.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam asked.
"I thought it would stop. I'm sorry." She closed her eyes, but Sam forced her to open them again.
"It's the blade." Dean exclaimed. "It's the blade, it was poisoned. We have to go back."
"We don't have time. Dean, we won't make it in time!" Sam's heart raced; he couldn't lose Carmen now, not like this. He looked down at her, and she was lucid. She knew she was in danger.
"Get in the car, NOW!" Dean ordered. It was obvious that Sam couldn't think clearly. He got in the backseat with Carmen, who laid her head upon his lap. She was still shivering, so Sam held her close, trying to warm every part of her with his hands.
"Keep her awake, Sammy." Dean reached back to feel Carmen's skin. "Carmen, stay with us, alright? Where are we?"
"Pennsylvania," she muttered.
"Good. Why are we here?"
"Hunt," she breathed.
"Sam, keep talking to her. Don't let her slip away, come on Sam." He coaxed.
"Carmen, talk to me. Think about your mother. Tell me about her."
Carmen sighed and closed her eyes. "She wanted me to be happy," her voice trembled harder than her body. She looked up at Sam. "She wanted me to f-fall in love. She said it was the most important thing. That there's no-nothing like it." Carmen let out a shaky laugh. "She was right."
Sam did his best to hold back his tears, but it was useless. He bent over Carmen, gathered her up in his arms and rocked her like a helpless child.
After a moment of quiet, Dean sped the car up to as fast as he could push it. He was terrified, but he knew he had to keep a clear head. Sam certainly couldn't. He had to find the knife, and do what was necessary. He just hoped it worked.
Horror shot through Sam as he felt Carmen suddenly fall limp in his arms. He looked down at her, panicked. "Carmen? No, Carmen wake up, come on, don't do this to me now, we're close, we're so close!" But she didn't wake up this time. "Dean!" Sam cried.
Dean ran the Impala as close to the building as possible and jumped out. He charged inside, not even drawing his gun. He had a one-track mind – get the knife. He took the basement steps two at a time, and his eyes caught the glint of the ruby hilt. He grabbed it and bolted upstairs and out to the car. He was out of breath and scared, terrified. "Move, Sam!" He exclaimed, and Sam stumbled out of the way. Dean did exactly as Bobby had told him – he jammed the blade into the exact spot that the demon had stabbed her before. He stood back and waited, panting, next to a distraught Sam.
For a moment nothing happened, and Dean's heart sank. He was too late to save her, he thought. He dragged a rigid hand over his face and turned his back. This wasn't happening. His mind could not process this…
But then he heard her draw a long breath, and when he turned around, he saw the color return to her face. The blue veins that were prominent before were hidden again below the surface of her skin, and the yellow of her eyes became white once more. Next to Dean, Sam let out a long sigh of relief.
Carmen sat up, and her hands grabbed the hilt of the blade that protruded from her waist. A confused look crossed her features.
"Why am I removing this thing from my side a second time?" She winced as she dislodged the blade again. Sam swiped the tears away from his eyes, dropped to his knees next to her, pulled her towards him and kissed her until her lips were blue.
"Oh, I should get stabbed more often." She said as she put her arms around him.
"No, you shouldn't." Dean's stressed voice came from over Sam's shoulder. "Come on, we've got somewhere to be."
"We do?" Sam asked.
"Yeah. Just get in the car, I'll explain on the way."
Dean had packed the ruby hilted blade in the trunk for safekeeping. There was no way to destroy a powerful item such as that, but they could make sure it would never be found, and could never hurt anyone again. Bobby had wanted him to keep it, and not just leave it in Pennsylvania where anyone or anything could stumble upon it.
Sam sat in the backseat of the Impala with Carmen for the duration of the ride. After Dean patched her up (again) they were on the road. Bobby told Dean on the phone earlier that he needed them in Iowa. He said that after they got Carmen right again, they should get on the road ASAP.
Bobby had given them an address to go to, which turned out to be an old abandoned cabin in the middle of the woods. It was so far out of the way that Dean had trouble finding it. The drive took them nearly an entire day, and Dean was exhausted by the time they got there. There was a faint light that illuminated the windows, so Dean was cautious when he opened the door.
The man sitting at the shabby table in the far side of the room looked up, and all three of their jaws dropped.
Dean was the first to find his voice. "Dad?"