Thanks again for the awesome reviews! I love you guys so much!
Hope you enjoy this chapter...it's chock full of angst and action!
Oh, and here's my language warning...there's language in this chapter
Big thanks to Bayre, my awesome wonderful beta!
Let me know what you think!!!
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Dean came to with a start.
Quickly pulling himself to a sitting position, he took a couple of moments to let the queasy feeling in his stomach pass. The pounding in his head beat out a steady rhythm, almost as if a drum solo was taking up residence there. He shook his head, ignoring the sharp spikes of pain as he glanced around the cemetery and remembered where he was. Glancing down at his watch, he saw it was nearly two-thirty in the morning, meaning he'd been unconscious for the last two hours. Confusion began to settle in as he tried to remember why he'd been in the graveyard.
Slowly getting to his feet, he took a few seconds to make sure the ground stayed under him. Darting his eyes all around, he tried to pull the events of the last few hours from his foggy memory when his eyes finally rested on Marie Laveau's tomb—he and Sam had a fight; Sam ran off; he came here to gather his thoughts; Maggie showed up; said things about Sammy; then, darkness.
SAM!
She had mentioned something about Sam, about him coming to see her after their fight, that she was taking care if him. Dean had a pretty good idea of how she took care of Sam, but he would worry about that later. She had said something else, about using Sam against him, using Sam to hurt him. That alone scared Dean to death, because he knew what could happen to Sam in order to achieve that goal. He knew what lengths people and demons and ghosts would go to in order to use Sam against him, they'd shown him before. They knew Dean was at his most vulnerable when it came to Sam and keeping him safe, protecting him.
Before he'd lost consciousness, Maggie said she was going to check on Sam, that Dean would know where to find them. The only place Dean could think of was her apartment—it's where Sam would go if he went to see her earlier. How could he have been so stupid? Why didn't he fight Sam on this harder, make him see what kind of person Maggie was? Instead he'd let him run off to the very woman he was trying to protect his younger brother from. He'd let him run off into the arms of a possessed psycho woman and now Sam was going to end up paying for something Dean had done. Dean couldn't accept that, he had to get to Sam and now.
But then another thought troubled Dean—Maggie said she wasn't going to kill him because she still needed him for something. So, what the hell did that mean? What could Dean possibly do for her and what the hell made her think he would do anything for her? She'd argued he wouldn't have a choice, but he couldn't stand there and wonder what that meant, not when Sammy was at risk.
Locating his shotgun and flashlight a few yards away, he quickly scooped them up and ran to the Impala. He had to get to Sam before it was too late, before Maggie…Dean couldn't even let himself finish that thought. Sam was not dead, not yet anyway. He'd feel something if Sam was gone, something inside of him would let him know if it was too late. That alarm wasn't sounding yet and Dean wasn't going to let it have the chance.
Throwing his gun and flashlight onto the passenger seat, he climbed in the car and sped towards Maggie's apartment.
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Sam was getting really tired of being in this position—tied up and at the mercy of a complete psychotic. Why was it he always had to be the damsel in distress, awaiting rescue from his knight in shining armor, riding his noble steed? Except in his case, that knight was Dean and the steed happened to be a 1967 Chevy Impala. Sam chuckled at that, seriously thinking he was starting to lose his mind. And maybe he was—after all, he always managed to get himself into these very uncomfortable predicaments, always putting himself in harm's way. Maybe Dean should really invest in a collar and leash for me. Hell, even a GPS chip installed in me may be a good idea. We'll definitely have to look into something…
"You look like you're thinking awfully hard about something, Sam." Maggie was standing by the window, glancing out every so often. Now she had her attention focused on him, a smile on her face.
Sam shrugged as best as he could. "What can I say? When you're tied up, it gives you time to think about things."
Maggie nodded. "Care to share?" She turned her head to look out the window again.
"Honestly, I'm thinking about what a huge jackass I am for allowing myself to sleep with you tonight. I mean, I must have been really desperate, right?"
Maggie walked away from the window and slowly approached Sam. Straddling him, she sat down and softly stroked his face. "You weren't desperate, Sam, you were lonely and I played on that. If it makes you feel any better, you were really good. The best I've had in a really long time."
"Sorry, that doesn't make me feel better. But it was a good effort."
She pushed away the hair from his forehead. "Come on, Sammy…don't be like that. A girl doesn't like to hear her talent's been wasted, makes her feel kind of bad."
"Believe me…you're not like any girl I know."
Maggie smiled. "You got that right, baby." She leaned down and kissed him hard on the lips, then moved down to his neck.
"Didn't you get the memo? This relationship's through."
Maggie pulled back from him and laughed. "You really are cute, Sam. It's a shame you're going to die."
"Then why don't you do it already? I don't see what you're waiting for."
Maggie stood up and walked into her bedroom. When she came back out a few seconds later, she was holding a handkerchief. "I told you, Sammy, we're waiting on your brother. He plays a big part in this and I'd really hate for him to miss out."
"Leave Dean alone."
"You boys are the same, I swear. Always telling me to leave the other alone, trying to protect each other. It's kind of a turn-on, if you ask me." She walked over to the door and flipped off the switch, bathing the apartment in darkness.
Just then the loud rumble of a V-8 engine could be heard approaching in the distance. Maggie walked behind Sam and put the handkerchief in his mouth, trying it behind his head. "Can't have you calling out to big brother, can we?"
Sam struggled anew with his bonds, but they refused to budge. Maggie just shook her head and put a finger to her lips, telling him to keep quiet. "It's show time, Sam."
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When Dean pulled up to Maggie's apartment, he felt a chill go down his spine. Something was eating at him, telling him something wasn't right, that whatever he was about to walk into was not good. But then again, since when was walking into a completely darkened building a good idea? He'd learned long ago never to expect good things when walking into a dark building especially when said building was the current residence of a psycho voodoo ghost. Yep, this wasn't going to be good at all…
Before getting out of the Impala, Dean grabbed his shotgun he had discarded on the passenger seat. Then, he walked to the trunk and began to pack his small duffel with various weapons—holy water, rock salt, a couple of knives, and other defenses. Satisfied with what he had, he shut the trunk softly and began making his way towards the apartment. He was secretly glad it was the middle of the night; he'd really hate to have to explain to the neighbors what was going on since he knew there was no way they would ever believe him. Who could really blame them, anyway?
Dean quietly made his way up the spiral staircase, being careful not to alert anyone to his presence. He just needed to get in, get Sam, get out, and then get back to the cemetery to salt and burn Marie's bones. He knew he probably should have done the salt and burn before he left the cemetery, but honestly, the thought never crossed his mind. The only thing he could think about was getting to Sam and getting there fast. Sam was what mattered most and after he assured himself his kid brother was safe, then they could worry about Marie and her bitchy ass.
As Dean stepped off the second story landing, he checked the hall to make sure there weren't any stragglers loitering around. Satisfied there wasn't anyone, he knelt down as he pulled his lock picking kit out of his pocket, and began to work on the door. A couple of seconds later, he heard the sweet sound of the release of the lock. Stuffing the pick back into his pocket, he pulled out his .45 and pushed open the door. The sight that greeted him scared him and relieved him all at once.
Sam was tied in a chair, staring at him with wide eyes.
"Sammy!" Dean forgot about the possible threat of Marie as he rushed to his brother's side. Sam grunted through the gag and Dean tore it off. "Are you okay, Sammy?"
"Dean, you were right, it was Maggie the entire time. She's still in here. Don't worry about me—go get her."
"Sam, we need to get you out of here…we can worry about Maggie in a bit."
Sam was about to argue further when they heard a noise coming from the back of the apartment. The brothers exchanged quick glances and Sam nodded, telling Dean it was okay. Dean gave Sam's shoulder a reassuring squeeze and slowly made his way to the noise. He didn't know what the hell he was thinking leaving Sam like that but he knew Sam would be angry if he didn't get rid of the threat first. Sam always put his safety behind everything else and it annoyed the older hunter to no end how his younger brother could be so selfless.
Walking as quietly as he could in his boots, Dean approached the bedroom, where he and Sam heard the noise. Keeping the .45 pointed ahead of him, Dean checked every corner, alert for any noise or movement as his eyes darted all around. Entering the bedroom, he found it was completely dark with only the moonlight illuminating the interior of the small room.
"You kept us waiting long enough, Dean."
Dean whirled around at the sound of Maggie's voice, keeping his aim on her steady. "Well, you did give me a little knock on the head. That kind of takes time to recover."
"I thought you were a little more hard-headed than I gave you credit for." Maggie smiled. "But that's okay…you're just in time for the main event."
"Yeah, and what event is that?"
Maggie shook her head and took a step towards Dean. He tightened his grip on the gun and all of a sudden her body jerked as if she were having convulsions. Dean took an involuntary step backwards, not really sure what was going on. But he kept his eyes on her in case this was another one of her tricks. As he watched, Maggie's eyes widened in fear and her body fell to the ground as Marie's spirit left her. Dean barely had time to track the spirit before she floated in the air and charged at him full speed. The force of the impact knocked him to the ground and he felt cold all over, as if someone dipped him into a liquid nitrogen bath.
No! No! No! This couldn't be happening. Dean knew this couldn't lead to anything good. There was an inner battle within his body as he fought to remain in control. He couldn't let Marie take full control of his body, not with Sam waiting out there like a sitting duck. The situation was definitely going from shitty to fucked in a matter of seconds and Dean didn't like it one bit, he didn't like what it could possibly mean for Sam.
Get out of me, you bitch!
He heard his own throaty chuckle and then his voice speaking back to him. "Now, now, Dean. No one likes a bully."
If you don't get out of me, so help me God…
"You'll what, Dean? Send me to hell? No offense, but there's nothing you can do right now."
You wanna bet?
He chuckled again. "Looks like Sammy's in trouble, Dean. But to show you what a gem I am, I'm going to let you watch as I end his life. Imagine what that will do to you—to him—to know his own brother is responsible for his death."
You keep away from my brother!
"Do you think he'll forgive you, Dean? As you watch the light go out in his eyes, do you think his last thought will be him forgiving you?"
Please…just leave him alone. Whatever you're going to do to him, do to me instead. Just leave Sammy out of this, please. Please…
"That's touching, Dean, it really is. But I'm afraid it's a little too late." He let out a sigh. "Now, I think we've made Sam wait long enough, don't you?"
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Sam was beginning to wonder about Dean and what was taking him so long. He'd been hearing the soft sound of voices, but he couldn't make out any of the words and that worried him to no end. He didn't know how long his brother had been gone, but if it was taking this long, it had to mean something happened, Dean found something. As he struggled with the ropes once again, he began to berate himself for allowing Dean to go back there alone. Why didn't he let Dean cut him free and they go back there to investigate together? Hell, why didn't he listen to Dean when he suggested they just get out of there and worry about Maggie in a little bit. It just went to show the young hunter once again he was incapable of listening to what his brother was trying to tell him, how he was trying to keep him safe.
He grunted in frustration as the ropes began to rub his wrists raw. He wasn't getting anywhere with them. If anything, they seemed to be getting tighter. He was about to yell for his brother when he heard the heavy footsteps of Dean walking behind him.
"Dean! Dude, what the hell was taking so long?"
"I ran into a little problem."
"What? What kind of problem?" Sam watched as Dean walked to his duffel bag and pulled out a knife, gazing at it lovingly. Okay, Dean…you've seen that knife a thousand times. Quit looking at it like that and get over here and cut me free.
Dean turned around, fingering the knife blade. "I found Maggie, but don't worry, Sammy…I took care of her."
"Good! Great! Let's get out of here then."
Dean shook his head and Sam felt a chill race down his spine. Something wasn't right with Dean, his behavior was off. Realization hit the young hunter as a slow feral smile crept up on Dean's face. "We're not going anywhere, Sammy. I think it's time you and I had a nice little chat."
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Dean felt sick to his stomach as he felt his body slowly walking out of the bedroom. There was nothing he could do to stop himself, nothing he could do to warn his brother of the approaching danger. Marie had managed to maintain control of every part of his body and the only thing Dean could do was watch. It was as if he were strapped to a table and being forced to watch the most horrible movie possible. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to fight. Dean was going to give her hell, he wasn't going to let her have Sam without a fight.
He could see Sam struggling with the ropes once more as he slowly approached his brother from behind. He saw Sam turn around, relief evident on his face.
Don't be relieved yet, Sammy. Come on, look at me…see this isn't really me.
"Dean! Dude, what the hell was taking so long?"
Dean cringed as he heard Marie say, "I ran into a little problem."
"What? What kind of problem?"
Come on, Sam. Quit asking questions. Find a way out and get out of here…NOW! He felt his breath hitch as his hands reached into the duffel bag and pull out one of the long hunting knives. He didn't like how he felt as his eyes looked at it ravenously. He could feel what Maggie was thinking and none of it was good…she wanted Sam to hurt, she wanted Dean to hurt. She wanted Sam's blood on his hands.
Dean turned around, fingering the knife blade. "I found Maggie, but don't worry, Sammy…I took care of her."
She's lying on the floor in the bedroom, Sam. Maggie isn't the threat anymore…I am.
"Good! Great! Let's get out of here, then."
Dean shook his head as a slow feral smile crept up on his face. "We're not going anywhere, Sammy. I think it's time you and I had a nice little chat."
The older hunter cheered as he saw the realization hit Sam. Sam knew something was wrong, he knew this wasn't really Dean. Great job, Sammy! You see that, bitch? He's not going to fall for any of your cheap tricks.
"Where's Dean?"
"What are you talking about, Sammy? You're looking at him."
Sam shook his head. "No…you're not my brother. What did you do to him?"
The smile became wider on Dean's face. "Your brother was right when he said you wouldn't fall for this, Sam. I guess I should have believed him."
"So, was this your big plan? To possess Dean?"
"Honestly, no, but things just worked out in my favor." Dean walked a slow circle around Sam and picked up the handkerchief from the floor. He shoved it in Sam's mouth and tied it tightly. "Can't have you waking the neighbors, can we?" He patted Sam on the shoulder and continued. "You see, Sam. I don't want to kill your brother, I want him to hurt. I want him to feel a pain so deeply in his heart, he can't breathe. And what better way than this, Sam? What better way than to have Dean kill his baby brother?"
Sam grunted in response and Dean held up a hand to his ear. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Are you saying there's no way Dean would do that?"
Sam glared at him.
"You're right, he wouldn't. But that's why he has me, Sam. I'm the little push he needs." He walked into the kitchen and grabbed a beer from the refrigerator. Popping the top off the held it in a salute to Sam. "He's tired of it, Sam. The constant worry over you, the stress you add to his life. He wants it all to be over. And I can help him, Sam. I can release him from that burden."
Sam shook his head and struggled in his chair once again.
That's right, Sammy! Don't listen to a damn thing this bitch is telling you. None of it is true, you hear me? None of it!
Dean chuckled. "Your brother doesn't seem to agree with me, Sam. He's putting up quite a fight for you." He took another swig of the beer and set the bottle down as he once again fingered the blade. "Believe me when I say this has nothing to do with you, Sam. You just happen to be the innocent bystander. Isn't it ironic how you always seem to pay for your brother's mistakes?"
Please don't do this…the kid feels guilty enough without you adding on to it. Just stop…leave him alone. Let Sammy go.
"If you could hear what he was saying to me, Sammy, it would bring a tear to your eye. He's fighting, but I think he knows it's a losing battle." Dean tilted his head to the side, studying Sam. Then he leaned down and pressed the knife to his throat. Inwardly, Dean felt as if someone stabbed him in the gut as he saw the pain in his baby brother's eyes, saw the complete terror in those hazel eyes as though he wasn't sure if Dean would be able to stop Marie from killing him.
Sammy, don't give up on me. I'm going to help you. I'm not going to let her kill you. I'm going to stop her.
"You know, Sam, not all ghosts are completely heartless. And to show you what a saint I am, I'm going to let you speak to your brother one more time." He removed the gag from Sam's mouth.
"Dean, you have to fight her, you hear me! You have to fight this! Don't let her win! Don't let some crazy ass bitch get the better of you! You're better than that, Dean."
"Sam…"
"Good, Dean! Fight her! You keep fighting her!"
Dean struggled with the spirit inside of him as he fought to bring the knife away from his brother's throat. He wasn't about to let this bitch take away everything that meant the world to him. He wasn't about to let her take away his only reason for living. He finally managed to get the knife away from Sam's throat, but in the next instant he found himself plunging the knife into Sam's thigh. Sam roared with pain and Dean immediately felt control over Marie start to wane. Before it could diminish completely, he pulled the knife from his brother's leg and used it to cut the ropes around Sam's wrists.
"You take care of her, Sammy."
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Sam barely felt the pain in his leg. Sure the immediate pain had been horrific, as if someone had stabbed a white hot poker into his leg, but now he didn't feel anything. All he could feel was the pain from Dean as his brother struggled with the spirit inside if him. He could see Dean's hold weakening and that scared the young hunter to death, to know his brother was being defeated. Dean was never supposed to be the one to lose, he always come out the victor at the end. But now, even Sam was seeing that Dean may not win this one this time.
As soon as Dean cut the ropes, Sam bent down and untied his ankles. He got up from the chair just as his brother—Marie—was charging at him with the knife. He quickly sidestepped the blade as it came arching down, the wound in his leg hindering him slightly. He stumbled but was up again before Dean could come at him again. He took Dean's knife hand and squeezing with all his might, made the older man drop the knife to the ground.
Sam dove for the knife, but Dean came up behind him and grabbed him in a chokehold. Sam reached up and grabbed his brother's arm, trying to pull it away, but Dean wasn't going to budge. Seeing no other option, Sam stomped down on his foot and heard his brother grunt in pain. Sam stepped back and landed a solid punch against his brother's jaw. Dean barely flinched and before Sam could stop him, he brought his leg up and kicked Sam's stab wound. Sam went down to the ground bring down a small end table with him, crying out in pain and Dean seized his chance. He tackled Sam to the ground and began to choke him.
Sam grabbed at Dean's hands, trying to tear his brother's grip from his throat, but Dean wasn't letting up. For a brief instant, Sam felt a flicker of panic as he saw the crazed look in his brother's eyes. Dean's really going to do it…he can't fight it…he's going to kill me. Sam turned his head slightly, spying a heavy glass bowl from the fallen end table, reached for it. It was just shy of his fingertips and just as blackness began to cloud his vision, he made one last ditch effort and grabbed the bowl.
It couldn't be any bigger than the size of a grapefruit, but it was heavy and it would do the job. Sam brought the bowl crashing down on his brother's head. At first he though it had no effect on his sibling's hard head, but through his cloudy vision he saw Dean's eyes roll to the back of his head and the hands around his throat loosened. Sam didn't even have time to get out of the way as Dean's limp body came crashing down on him.
Sam just lay there for a moment, too sore and tired to move. But he knew he needed to get up and move fast—he had to get Marie out of Dean and he wasn't sure how much time he would have before Dean woke up again. Carefully pushing Dean off of him, he pulled himself up from the floor, being careful to keep his weight off his injured left leg. He wasn't sure how bad the stab wound was and he wasn't about to stop and check it out. It could wait for a little longer, at least until he fixed this fine mess they'd gotten themselves into.
He bent down and reaching into Dean's jacket pocket, he grabbed the keys to the Impala. He scooped up the duffel bag from the floor and quickly made his way out to his brother's car. Within a matter of seconds, he was speeding towards the St. Louis Cemetery. He silently thanked whoever was watching over him that there weren't any police patrolling the streets. He'd really hate to have to explain to the officer the reason he was speeding was that he needed to get to the cemetery in order to salt and burn the bones of a woman who was currently possessing his brother. Sam was pretty sure they would accuse him of being drunk and throw him in jail faster than he could blink an eye.
Sam got to the cemetery within ten minutes. He jumped out of the car, grabbing the duffel and went to the trunk to make sure he had everything he would need for the salt and burn. He saw Dean already packed the shotgun, so he grabbed a few more rock salt shells and stuffed them in the duffel. Then he quickly grabbed the container of rock salt, matches, and lighter fluid. Before he shut the trunk he noticed a map of the cemetery sitting on top of the weapons and thanked his lucky stars. He had no idea where to even begin to look for Marie's tomb so the map was a complete blessing. Sam made a mental note to worship his guardian angel as soon as this was over.
Turning on his flashlight, he found the path he wanted on the map and began his trek to the tomb. A little over five minutes later, he found Marie's tomb and set down his duffel bag. Shining the light around the door to the tomb, he found it to be padlocked, but it was nothing a pair of bolt cutters couldn't take care of. Opening the duffel, he grabbed the bolt cutters and made quick work of the lock. He then entered the old tomb.
Sam coughed as the musty smell of decayed flesh assaulted his nostrils, but he quickly got over it. He spotted the body of Marie Laveau lying in the middle on a slab of granite. Seeing he wasn't going to have much room to work, Sam made the decision to bring her body out into the open. Luckily, it still remained intact even after over a hundred years of being interred, and he was able to bring it out with relative ease.
He dug into the duffel and pulled out his necessary supplies. He generously sprinkled rock salt all over the bones, then moved on to the lighter fluid. Just as he was finishing with the accelerant, he felt a chill go down his spine as the air around him grew colder. Quickly pulling out the shotgun from the duffel bag, he whirled around to face the form of his brother, who was smiling at him wickedly, blood covering the left side of his face.
"You didn't really think I was just going to let you get away, did you, Sammy?"
Sam cocked the shotgun in warning, but Dean only smiled. "Are you really going to shoot your own brother?"
"Dean will understand." Sam swallowed hard.
"You mean like he understood the time you shot him before?" Dean jerked his head and Sam and the gun went flying through the air, each landing in different places.
Sam looked up and shook his head to clear it as Dean slowly approached him. He saw the shotgun was lying a few feet behind him—if he could just get to it, he could distract Dean long enough to do the salt and burn.
"I'm not going to let you two ruin what I've started here," Dean said.
"You mean killing innocent people?" Sam slowly scooted back towards the gun.
"They weren't innocent, Sam. Just like your brother isn't innocent. They had to be punished for what they were doing." Dean shook his head. "I'm the good guy here, Sam…can't you see that? I'm only trying to make my city what it once was, where people don't have to worry about the wicked and corrupt. They can live their lives and not worry about being hurt."
"You're not helping anyone, you're only making the situation worse."
"Says you." Dean stopped walking and pulled out the knife. He then turned his gaze to Sam and for a second, Sam swore he saw sorrow and grief in his brother's eyes. "I don't want to have to kill you, Sam, but your brother needs to learn what's right and wrong. He has to be taught his lesson and this is the only way."
Sam watched with wide eyes as Dean brought the knife up above his head. Sam made a frantic grab for the gun and brought it up to aim at his brother's chest. Just as Dean was bringing the blade down on him, Sam squeezed the trigger and fired off a shot. It hit Dean square in the chest and he fell back to the ground, unmoving. Sam rose to his feet, and after making sure his brother was okay, kicked the blade away from Dean's outstretched hand, then ran to Marie's bones to finish the salt and burn. He lit a few matches and threw them onto the bones.
There was a tremendous impact as the fire hit the bones and Sam was thrown back a few feet. He landed hard on his back, but managed to stay conscious as he watched the flames burn a bright blue. A loud scream pierced the night air and he looked over at his Dean's still form to see Marie's spirit being pulled from his brother. There was another spectacular burst of blue light and then Marie disappeared completely.
Sam wanted to get up and check on Dean, but he was finding it hard to stay awake. Sam's vision became blurry and he didn't know if that was from the abuse his body had taken or the blood loss from his leg, but at that point he didn't care. He turned on his stomach and tried to crawl to his brother, but he barely made it half a foot before darkness overcame him.