Nobody's Fault But Mine
Part 2
Back to present day…
Mischief managed, Dean snuck outside to calm his nerves. Sam was still out like a light, an exhausted, geeky, behemoth of a light that needs his freaking rest, is more like it. He watched his breath rise in front of him as he reconsidered the excuse he'd planned on using for his electronic subterfuge. Keep it together, Winchester. God, I'm tired of this…
The cherry on his cigarette was the only light for miles. For just a moment he let the cold fill his senses and overtake him relishing in the feeling of goosebumps covering his body before he quenched the sensation focusing inward to drive out the cold and seeking a numbness within. His ability to ignore the cold was just another attempt to seek control over his surroundings. It had served him well on many a hunt, it wasn't supernatural or even superhuman just a need to be in control of himself if nothing else. Dean took a drag from his cigarette feeling it burn all the way from his throat to his lungs. He hated smoking, the taste, the smell, all of it, but with 6 months left to live it wasn't like it'd kill him and every sensation good and bad was just another reminder that he was alive, that he had a job to do and a brother to protect. He felt the presence behind him before he heard her boots crunch on the gravel parking lot.
"Isn't it a little chilly out here for your kind? I always figured you hell skanks preferred the hot-ass crossroads of Nowheres-ville, Arkansas or Assbackwards, Mississippi."
A heady chuckle flitted across the frozen courtyard, "Oh, I promise you, Dean, this little number is hot enough to withstand even your cold shoulder."
"If she's anything like the last couple crossroads demons I've met, I don't doubt that, but I'm not so sure that poor girl you're riding feels the same. How 'bout we cut the crap. What do you want?"
Dean could hear the smile in her voice as she proceeded, "Straight to business. I like that, Dean. I'm just here to make sure you're keeping your end of the bargain. We can't have Sammy go off and break the deal by saving you now can we. You know that if we find out that he's succeeding, then we'll make sure you fail… again. I'd hate to have to see the light go out of his eyes again so soon after-"
Dean spun around fixing her with a glare that brighter creatures than her would have shrunken away from, "You shut your mouth, bitch." Dean took a step towards the demon. He was too angry to reach for his weapon, but at this point, he'd just as soon throttle the demon with his bare hands. "If you can't read my mind, how bout you read my lips. I'm. doing. my. part."
"But I can read your mind. Your little pea brain isn't even a challenge. Sammy, Sammy, pie, my breasts, my ass, pie… and Sammy. He really is your alpha and omega, isn't he? Honestly, it's a little creepy… Ooh, here's something interesting. Little brother still thinks there's hope for you." Her soft chuckle cut through the frigid air. "They're so cute when they're young and innocent aren't they?" Dean's death stare shifted to the horizon, breaking every rule his dad had taught him about dealing with demons, to lean against the fence once again.
His white knuckled grip on the fence was the only thing keeping him from reaching for his gun, "If you're done with my performance review, can I get back to enjoying my last few months on earth?"
He could picture the smug look on her face as she released a smoky laugh from deep in her throat. "Oh, but you don't seem to be enjoying it very much, Dean." Her words were silk wrapped steel, they would have sounded sympathetic if the demon bitch were capable of empathy, "It must be excruciating to watch little Sammy try so hard to save you. Seeing it break him, bit by bit. The hope slowly leaving his eyes as he searches in vain for your salvation. So I ask you, Dean Winchester," she regarded him with a look that on any other being would have been compassion, "are you really enjoying yourself?" Dean didn't say anything. He could taste the blood as he bit his lip to keep himself from exorcising this demon and to hell with the consequences, literally.
"If you'd like I could end it all for you right now." Dean could swear he heard a howl in the distance and his entire body involuntarily stiffened at the sound, "You don't have to watch Sam's futile efforts to save your tarnished, gutter soul. He can go on and live his life free from big brother's baggage.
"I'm more of a cat person, actually." It was lame retort, yeah, but he needed to hear his own voice, to make sure he was still capable of retaliating. His cocky remark didn't do as much to bolster him as he was hoping, maybe if Sam were here rolling his eyes or telling Dean to shut up…
Dean hadn't noticed the demon make her way towards him, his mind still trying to wrap around her words. Her cold, unfeeling hand began a slow track up to his shoulder from the base of his spine, imitating a lover's caress "Or maybe you're regretting our pact. Is little Sammy turning into something you're not so fond of? Word on the street is he's becoming quite the little firecracker."
Her hand knotted in his hair, tugging at the short strands as his neck snapped back,"That was an associate of mine he shot, you know. You were practically celebrities at the water cooler on Monday." Her hand resumed its previous soothing circles across his back. She pressed in close wrapping a leg around his as her pelvis made a slow counter-rhythm to her hand against his hip, "And the way he took out Jake...," she let out a moan of pleasure, "Barbaric… Inhuman. Maybe it's about time to put a bullet from that fancy gun of yours where it really belongs," her lips were inches from his ear, her breath ghosting across his skin sending excited shivers down his body as his lip curled in revulsion. "Tell you what, big boy. I'll give you an out. A peck on the cheek," she demonstrated the gesture, leaving him feeling violated, "and I'll let you out of your deal. True, Sam'll drop dead, but you'll be free to live your life. No more evil little brother to worry about. The way nature intended. What's dead, should stay-"
"I swear to fucking God if you don't get out of my face in 10 seconds, I will shoot you where you stand. I am not giving my brother up, now get out of here before I have to bury another tight ass little seductress's body." Enough was enough.
The demon, however, was unfazed. She had dropped back a step, but her chest was thrust out in a way that was more inviting than affronted. "Now Dean I don't think we need to resort to threats. This is nothing more than a business proposition."
"Ten." Dean reached for the newly restored Colt that he brought with him nearly everywhere nowadays and leveled it squarely with the demon's forehead.
"Well, if we're going to be tossing threats around," before Dean could move the demon was in his personal space, "maybe you should see a little bit of the threat you'll be facing all too soon." One hand fisted in his shirt, the other wrapped around his head pulling him down toward her lips. The disgusting cigarette was like freaking ice cream compared to the demons ash and sulfur flavored kiss.
There was a continual screaming that caused his head to resonate with pain and agony. It only seemed to stop when he took a few ragged breaths. Yet he could hear a deep, gravelly chuckle in full high definition stereo overlaying the screams. He couldn't see the demon, but he knew it was her laughing at him as he screams his guts out. But more so than anything else he feels isolated, cut off, a deep-seated, foundation-shaking sense of being completely alone, and that's what really breaks him.
He screams again only to feel the scrape of gravel on his face. Dean blinks once… and then again to clear his vision as the absence of pain seems to fill his senses. He swallows in a futile attempt to catch his breath only to begin gagging at the taste in his mouth. Dean looks over to see a puddle of rapidly freezing vomit, which explains one of the nauseating smells currently assailing him. He slowly makes his way to his feet, knees threatening to give out on him.
"How was your first glimpse of hell, Dean? Still think little Sammy's worth-"
"One." The demon dropped in an ungraceful heap as the bullet hole seeped grisly black smoke. Dean spat and swiped at his mouth, the taste of vomit and cigarette combining to make his stomach threaten a repeat of his earlier emesis session. "And yes, he is, bitch."
XxXxX
The sound of a gunshot brought Sam from zero to alert and oriented in fractions of a second. "Dean?" A quick scan of the room yielded an absence of one giant asshole of an older brother. Sam was groggy and definitely not as conscious as someone should be with the amount of coffee he'd consumed, but he was certainly conscious enough to kick his brother into next week for slipping him decaf. Sam didn't bother putting his shoes on, just grabbed his keys and his gun and ran outside in the hopes that he'd be the only one stomping his brother tonight.
End of Part 2
AN: Hope you like it so far. I'll try to get the next part up soon, but I haven't written it yet… sorry. Next time… Sam probably finds out about what Dean's been up to.