When Angels Fall
Author's Note
Secret Santa fic for Kaly of SFTCOL(AR)S continued…Merry Christmas!
Again the Caleb here is Ridley C James creation, not mine, I wish I were that talented lol! Any inconsistencies to her creation are my failings as a writer, and certainly no reflection on her. This story is post In My Time Of Dying and sligly AU -well John, Caleb and Pastor Jim are still around so maybe a tad more than slightly...
Thanks Ridley for your wonderful work.
Thanks to Geminigirl- Beta extroadinaire…
Thanks again to everyone that has read and reviewed so far…please continue to do so. Hoping you are still enjoying this one!
Summary
One brother makes a bargain that may ultimately cost the Winchesters more than they are willing to pay. This will be slightly AU as will eventually include John, Caleb and Pastor Jim.
Disclaimer
Still own nothing Supernatural related excepted the DVD's and an ever-growing odd collection of research books…oh and I guess the obsession owns me now lol!
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Chapter 3
Sam took their bags from the trunk of the Impala while Dean went to the door and knocked.
He was surprised when Caleb opened the door.
"You look like shit, Deuce."
"And yet still I look one hundred times better than you, Reaves." Dean's shit-eating grin lit his face.
Caleb grinned at the elder brother. "'Bout time you got here. The Pastor's wearing a hole in the carpet – he was expecting you yesterday."
"That was before Sam's last bright idea went wrong and we had to spend three hours cleaning the motel." For some, reason the picture of a wall of soapsuds came to Caleb and he spluttered – Sam hadn't…
"You cleaned Deuce? What, you couldn't find a woman to do that for you?"
"Well, Sammy helped so, technically, yes…"
"I heard that."
Caleb's senses were alert as he lightly scanned the older brother- technically what he was doing was impolite and Dean would try to kick his ass if he knew, but Jim was right – there was definitely a rabbit off somewhere.
Dean was genuinely pleased to see the older hunter. His aura was bright with his zest for life, though there was an inexplicable eddy of weariness, as if he was recovering from serious injury or illness. But again, his aura declared him healthy- disgustingly so. Caleb could clearly see deep reds of strength and energy, black, reflective of the protective nature of the elder hunter. However, reading deeper, there was an imbalance there- not in Dean's health or state of mind, just an imbalance of energies. They were a little off-kilter, but seemingly correcting themselves as the white eddies appeared to flow with increasing strength. It baffled Caleb.
He turned to the youngest Winchester, who was making his way from the car.
"So, Runt, is Deuce here finally allowing you to drive his baby?" He called.
Sam's face jerked towards Caleb's voice and a beaming grin lit his face. The brat was as warm and welcoming as the sun – Caleb had forgotten how bright and unrestrained Sam's grin was- not to mention contagious. He could feel lips tugging in response – dammit he had a reputation to maintain.
He reached his mind out to Sam to see if he could sense anything to justify Jim's concern. And for a brief instant, he picked up a nauseating mixture of deep-seated terror, sorrow and curiously, a tremendous relief at the sight of Caleb. The older psychic pushed further, but could only identify an overwhelming devotion to Dean and then Sam shut down. Completely.
Stunned, Caleb looked at Sam – he knew the youngest Winchester lacked any control over his abilities. More than anything, they were in control of him, rather than the other way around. But somehow, Sam had shut Caleb out entirely. He could probably force the issue, but that could cause pain and possibly injure the young man and he wasn't willing to risk it just yet. Sam's aura though – again, there was that unbalance, the colours muddied and fluid. Healing and compassionate greens intermixed with the growing level of indigo and black of psychic ability and quiet strength. Worryingly, the balancing spiritual white seemed to be mysteriously dwindling.
Just what the hell is going on here?
Dean had noticed Caleb's gazed fixed on his brother, a slight frown marring the man's normally smooth forehead.
"Cal? What's wrong?"
"Is everything alright Dean?" He claimed Dean's bag as the two brothers followed him in.
"All's fine."
Everything he had picked up from Sam screamed denial of the phrase, but Dean was being open, truthful. So as far as Dean was concerned, everything was fine. Which meant that Sam was keeping something from his brother, and that could only mean trouble.
"Sam?" Cal turned to the youngest Winchester.
"Fine." Liar.
"You sure?"
"Positive." Again Caleb's senses slid over the cold, hard surface of a shield Sam was obviously hiding behind.
But from what?
The young hunter's face was a study of puzzlement, earnestness and innocence. Caleb opened his mouth to say something else when Jim joined them.
"Dean, Sam – glad you boys could make it. Your old room is free if you fancy it, or if you prefer I could give you separate ones?" Both brothers shook their heads. Even during his college years, Sam had missed his brother's presence. He never completely relaxed, was never fully at ease, unless Dean was nearby. And Dean, well yes he liked to be able to keep a big brother eye on his sibling, but he too rested easier knowing Sam was safely nearby.
Jim smiled knowingly. They were worse than twins, these two. How Sam had actually managed to leave Dean to go to college; how Dean had managed to let him go was a mystery. But then again, they each would do anything to ensure the other's safety and happiness, so maybe it wasn't so hard to believe after all….
Sam's lanky frame quickly took him to the top of the stairs to the room he and Dean had shared on their infrequent stays.
Infrequent, but some of his fondest memories were from the times they had spent here. When John was away, Jim would encourage them to be boys, not warriors in training. They would climb trees, play soccer and basketball, fish. They had built rafts until that unfortunate incident where Sam had nearly drowned and they had discovered that garden twine, rough logs and a boisterous thirteen- and nine-year-old were not an ideal combination. Especially when said twine was older than the Pastor…
"Hey, Tinkerbell - you asleep up there or what?" Dean called up to Sam. He must have been daydreaming, lost in his memories, for longer than he had thought.
Oh yes, and how could he forget Dean's Peter Pan phase? At least Caleb had made an entertaining Captain Hook – he had even taught both of the brothers how to swordfight. He was probably the reason why Sam still preferred a knife to a gun. It was more controlled, there was less risk of collateral damage and it was more reliable when wanting to incapacitate rather than kill. Not to mention easier to defend against if disarmed.
Dean, on the other hand, had quickly been swayed from his fascination with swords as soon as he had seen Indiana Jones dispatching the sword-wielding villain with a single shot. Probably where his fondness for the leather jacket and smart-ass comments had come from too...
"Hey Runt – get your freakishly long-legged ass down here and grab Dean's bag!" Caleb shouted up the stairs, sounding disgruntled. That said, Dean's attitude could be down to Caleb's influence too….
Sam couldn't help the grin on his face though as he made his way back down and for one instant looked happy and unguarded, an old reflection of the open and amicable child he used to be.
"What?" He stopped halfway down the stairs at the collection of faces grinning up at him.
"Did Dean stick something on me again?" He twisted around to try to get a glimpse of his back. The grins grew wider.
"What?!"
"You are so easy to wind up, brat." Caleb chuckled.
"Do you mind stop calling me brat?" Sam asked a tad testily.
"Dunno." Caleb turned to Dean. "Has he stopped being a brat, Deuce?"
"Dude, you should see the tantrums he throws these days."
"I do not throw tantrums."
"Hissy fits then."
"Dean!"
"See? His pet lip is out already. Seriously, he pouts better than Marilyn Monroe when he starts."
"I do not pout."
"C'mon Sam - you know you could brood for your country. If there was a Sulk Olympics, Sammy here would be holding the gold."
"Just because I don't turn into Mr Sunshine when I come across a decapitated head…"
"Mr Sunshine, no – Mr Needs Bucket, yes."
"That was weak, dude."
"You know you find me funny, Sam- stop fighting it."
"I will if you do."
"I do what?"
"Stop fighting being funny."
"If you have to explain it Sam, it ain't funny."
Sam shook his head and stalked away while Dean and Caleb shared a smirk. Sammy-baiting had always been a favourite pastime.
The dark-haired man sat back from the scrying bowl – a hand wiping across his tired eyes.
The Winchester brothers reminded him a lot of how he and his brother had been before . . ." Angrily, he stopped the painful thoughts as he tipped the herb-infused water out from the bowl and poured blood into it. He delicately swirled his fingers through the viscous fluid, the copper tang for the first time actually twisting his stomach.
"The brothers are with the Priest." He reported, clearing his mind. "Yes, the plan is underway." A pause. "No, the elder brother suspects nothing. I had to run interference with the psychic." A question. "No, he thought it was the younger brother." He paused again, listening. "Yes, Sam Winchester's soul will soon be yours. All will be ready." A comment. "Thank you, Father."
Nick finished the ritual and rocked back. He pulled a talisman from under his shirt and murmured a brief incantation. Light flowed from the corner of the room, and the slight figure of a woman emerged.
"Nick." She acknowledged, tilting her head slightly as she warily watched the man in front of her.
"Laurel – is everything in place?" His palms were sweating, he could not afford for anything to go wrong now.
"The exchange is in motion, the covenant in place."
"The talisman will hold?" That was probably the most important aspect – if it didn't, his Father would be unforgiving and his punishment swift.
"Yes. Are you sure this is the path you wish to take?"
"I have no choice."
"You lied to me, Nick. You used that man's love for his brother to trick him. You used me, too." Anger laced her words.
"Again, I had no choice."
"There is always a choice."
"Fine, it was the only choice I was willing to make." Nick said bitterly.
"What hold does that Demon have on you, that you would do such a thing?"
"He's my Father."
"So you do this out of love?" She mocked.
"Yes." Without question.
Laurel looked at him closely. "I don't believe you."
"I do it because I wish to." Nick knew he sounded less than sincere.
Laurel remained silent, her sceptical expression relaying her thoughts as clearly as if she had spoken.
"The trade will take place as planned. Sam Winchester will die, his soul forfeit."
"Your plan could still work Nick – you don't have to do this." Laurel tried desperately. She knew she could not alter the bargain itself; the contract made was final and binding.
"You cannot change your nature. I am who I am. I cannot change that." And with that he murmured a second incantation and the light filled the room once more, and then faded, taking the image of the young woman with it.
Nick knew that time was on his side now - all he had to do was wait. I hate the waiting. That's the hardest part. .He sighed. And I need a drink
Across town Dean stuck his head into his and Sam's room. "Cal and I are thinking of heading into town – you want to come?" Half expecting Sam to say no, he was pleasantly surprised when Sam nodded with a smile.
"Sure, just let me get changed."
The Winchesters and Caleb entered a rather seedy looking and smoky bar set off the main road – what is it with Dean and biker bars? Must be the leather…Sam muffled a snort…
"I'll get this round." Sam gestured towards the pool table. "Grab that before it's taken." Dean was taken further aback –sure, Sam had been a heck of a lot more sociable the last few days, but Dean had expected Jim's library to be an irresistible temptation to his younger brother since he used to have to bribe him to get him to leave it. And normally, he would sit back and watch everyone around him having a good time while he nursed one of his two beers. However, Sam the last few days had been actively seeking out activities that were normally more Dean's cup of tea – not that Dean was complaining. In fact, Sam was a lot like the pre-college version of his brother, the kid keen to be a part of his big brother's life, the mischievous and life-loving younger brother from back before the demon had shattered his heart by killing Jessica.
Dean's eyebrows rose still further when Sam returned with three bottles of beer and three whiskey chasers.
"You're actually drinking the hard stuff, Sam?"
"Dude- I'm 23."
Caleb and Dean looked at each other, confused. This just wasn't like the younger hunter at all. Dean shrugged; the prospect of a drunken Sam was always entertaining.
He rose to set up the pool table.
A dark-dressed figure wandered over from the corner. He stood an inch or so shorter than Sam and seemed for some reason vaguely familiar. His short dark hair was fashionably spiked and startling green eyes lit with mischief as they assessed the group before him. "Care for a game?" he asked Dean.
Dean hesitated, his senses telling him to walk away from the stranger, but although Caleb looked suspicious, it was just their normal hesitation with strangers rather than something ominous. Man I need to relax. "Maybe later." The other man grinned, shrugged and headed off to the bar.
Dean and Caleb were playing their third game when Sam's easy laugh erupted from behind him, almost causing Dean to miss his shot. He looked across at his brother and groaned.
Sam was obviously drunk and was chatting animatedly with the stranger from earlier. The elder Winchester potted the last ball to lead two games to one and grinned at Caleb.
"Losing your touch, old man?"
Caleb gestured rudely at Dean. "Really dude – sore loser or what." He wandered casually towards his brother.
"So, Sam, gonna introduce us to your friend?"
"Hey, De." Yup, his kid brother was wasted. "Nick, this is my big brother De, I mean Dean. Dean this is Nick."
Nick held out a hand to the elder hunter. "Nice to meet you Dean."
Dean shook his hand; however he couldn't seem to shake the feeling that there was something familiar about the young man in front of him. He couldn't seem to shake the feeling that he had seen him somewhere before – but where?
TBC
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A/N.
Alrighty - a little more of a cliff hanger - hope I haven't disappointed! Posted early just for you Kaly! See the fear I live in lol!
So, what do you think? Please let me know…..
Just in case I do not have the chance to finish the next chapter before Christmas Day, please let me take this opportunity to wish everyone a wonderful Christmas! Best wishes to you all!