Welcome guys ! I have to apologise in advance, I've literally just finished writing this chapter, so big sorrys if there are typos everywhere and the grammar is a bit out ! Hope you're all still enjoying the story, there aren't that many chapters left at all, and obviously we're now reaching the climax. Thank you all for your reviews, they do keep me going and spur me along !
Hope you enjoy this chapter; I had a ball writing it….on with 'Kindred'…
Chapter 19- Kindred
Dean glanced over at the paper bag that sat in the passenger seat.
Usually that was the place where Sammy would sit.
Instead today, today, sat a chuck of arrow root.
Dean chuckled to himself, he had to chuckle cause if he didn't he'd cry.
There was just something that didn't make sense. Everything didn't make sense. The ritual, the cleansing, everything. He knew what he had to do, he had to get the jump on Sam, pin those long limbs somehow, chant a couple words and try not to hit a main artery along the way as he sliced into his brother's flesh.
Into his little brother's flesh.
The image made Dean want to instantly hurl.
How could he have been so stupid not to have noticed that Sam had been taken over by evil, the signs had been there the whole time. Sam's miraculously recovery from the fever, the stab wound that surely would have killed Sam, had conveniently vanished. Dean knew how possessors worked. If the body they chose to hide in was injured or damaged, the evil being would simply heal the body temporarily while they set up home inside their newest meat sack. Once bored with the body they simply left and the injured victim is left once again with their wounds, the spirit no longer keeping them going.
Dean's mind instantly went back to Meg Masters, a young blond that they'd met earlier in the year. They thought she was evil, both boys had thought she was evil. Hell they'd been willing to kill her because of all the things she'd done. Yet it was Bobby who had finally showed them, explained to them that Meg's body was nothing but a shell to the demonic spirit inside of her. In reality Meg Masters was an innocent girl that had just got caught up in the supernatural and had been used as a puppet.
Once the demon had left her body, she'd died. Bobby had been right. They'd talked to her for just a couple minutes desperate for information on their father, all she could do with her dying breath was to express thanks to the Winchesters for setting her body free.
Bobby.
Dean wished he could tell someone, anyone about what was going on, about what he was facing tonight on his own.
The fact that he was going to try and bleed a spirit out of his own brother, by himself, when his own father hasn't been able to pull it off filled the older brother with utmost dread.
What else could Dean do though, Sam was in grave danger and if he chose to do nothing then Sam would continue to be possessed, and...
And what..?
Dean's eyebrows knitted together as a thought occurred to him.
Ok, yes Sam was possessed. But why..? What did the spirit think it would get out of it..? What did the spirit want with Sam..?
Dean's face was set in a thoughtful expression as he considered the situation. It was obvious that the demonic spirit inside his brother was using Sam as a puppet, but best to Dean's memory, Sam hadn't hinted at anything demonic.
" That's not an excuse Dean. He's simply stalling for time. You must do it. You must do the ritual tonight. It's the only way to save Sam. Unless you want to be a failure again.."
Dean's heart skipped a beat. He hated these thoughts, these feelings of uselessness. He hated the idea that he was a failure, that he was the reason why his father had left, the real reason why Sam had died.
Dean shook his fluffy head. God the pain and the constant heaviness felt like a really bad dose of the flu.
Dean's weary eyes stared at the empty road ahead, as they filled with unshed tears.
He was so tired.
...When this is all over, Sam and I are going on vacation...Dean thought with a chuckle.
He couldn't fail Sam again, he just couldn't...
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Sam, as gingerly as he could, dipped the tweezers into the pot of liquid and carefully removed the scalding bullets.
Sam stared at the four bullets that now sat sizzling quietly on the kitchen counter.
Sam had no idea what he was doing.
Well that wasn't exactly true.
He'd gone through the book and pulled out anything that even hinted towards spirits and how to kill them. He'd then somewhere along the line decided to build his own bullets; sort of.
The younger Winchester had filled a pot with holy water, poured in rock salt, threw in sage leaves, apple pips, lavender oil, tree tea, oil of clove, a block of camfur and anything else he'd been able to find to hand.
By the time it had been boiling for just a few minutes, Sam could barely breathe in the room.
However, he'd gritted his teeth, emptied the bullets from Dean's pearl handled hand gun and dumped them in the pot, which hissed violently as they sunk to the bottom.
Sam had waited, and waited and waited, until he was barely conscious and with shaky, tweezers cladded hands, removed the bullets, which were now sizzling on the counter in front of him.
Which promptly brought the little brother to the predicament he found himself in now.
His hazel eyes locked with his elder brother's potion that sat on the cooker.
He'd fought the urge to dump the entire contents straight down the sink about twenty minutes ago.
But it wouldn't make an ounce of difference.
Sam sighed as he lowered himself into the stool, his eyes now leaving his brother's poison and now settling on the four bullets.
Those little silver bullets had no idea how huge a roll they would play tonight.
They would either save Dean's life, possibly both of there's if luck was on Sam's side; or it would kill both of them.
Sam had already made a decision and the more he thought about it, the less he liked what he was taking on; yet he knew that this was the only way, well that wasn't true either. There were other ways, he could dump the potion down the sink, pack his bags and get the hell away from the demonic puppet which was Dean.
Sam chuckled dryly, he knew he would never run out on Dean, not in a situation like this.
He was going to face his own death tonight, and the only way he was going to survive this was having to beat Dean in a fight. Sam couldn't even think of the last time he'd actually won a fight with Dean, in fact he couldn't remember a time where he'd ever won out against anything physical with Dean.
In Dean's head he was going to fight with every breath in his body to try and subdue Sam and get the incisions in place, while Sam knew that in reality, Dean would be slitting his wrists to bleed him out.
But why..?
That was the question that was destroying Sam the most. It was annoying and agitating that he'd figured out almost everything else apart from the two most important things.
Who or what was this demonic spirit and what the hell did it want..?
Sam ran a hand through his hair, his fingers brushing against the stitches in his hair; he was going to lose this fight.
Sam shook his head, he couldn't, he just couldn't, because if he died he knew that Dean would die to; and that simply wasn't an option.
He didn't care if he died, he'd go along with his brother's plan, acting the aloof fool for as long as need be, fight Dean all the way during the ritual, and hope against hope that he could fight Dean off long enough for him to take the spirit out with his homemade bullets.
Sam shook his head at his own stupidity; fight Dean off while trying to stop him slicing into his abdomen and wrists. Yeah that sounded perfectly logically. It was hard enough fighting Dean off when they were play fighting when growing up, almost impossible to kick him off when they were training. Now actually giving Dean a reason to be having a true fight, a real fight in Dean's head, well, even Sam knew when he was beat.
If the situation was anything than what it was, Sam probably would have been flattered to know that Dean actually loved him enough to try and pull this ritual off; but this wasn't a situation to be basking in.
He looked at the pot filled with poison.
In a few hours, if things went to plan, it would be cursing through his veins. He wondered how powerful it would be, how it would feel, he wondered if it would burn or be chilling.
Sam had longed realised that this ritual had to go ahead, at least to a degree, he had to let Dean get a cut in somewhere to get the ritual started, because only then would the evil, demonic son of a bitch show up to see what was happening.
Sam had to see the spirit right there in front of them, he had to see it to make sure it was there and wasn't watching from afar. Sam knew from past experience that the link between puppet and puppeteer was a powerful bond, but if distorted in anyway, if challenged, the more closer the puppeteer, the stronger the connection; and that was what Sam was praying for. The younger brother was banking on trying to break the link himself, how exactly he wasn't sure, but if all else failed, he would beat into Dean as much as he could to just waver him, to doubt the ritual, then the spirit would show up and hopefully, well..
Sam made a face; after that Sam was stuck.
He knew the bullets would be in Dean's gun, he had every intention of loading them in there and putting the gun back when he found it. Dean never left for a hunt of any sort without it, and if Sam knew Dean at all, his big brother would take this along just in case.
Just in case Sammy didn't play nicely and needed to be shot.
The idea made Sam shudder, the thought of Dean being so scared, so far gone, so out of reach that he would resort to shooting Sam if he couldn't save him from whatever Dean was convinced had him.
Sam sighed heavily as his eyes watered suddenly.
He just had a feeling tonight wasn't going to end with a rosy smile.
He looked around the apartment, and nodded at his decision.
This was his home.
And he wouldn't be coming back to it alive.
He'd searched the book himself, every page and he couldn't find it. There was no cure for the poison that Dean had created in their kitchen. But the poison, the ritual, the bleeding all had to go ahead to flush the demonic spirit out.
Even if Sam lost his life in the process.
He knew he was facing death, but if his death simply gave Dean a chance at life, then it was worth it.
All he would then need would be for Dean to snap out of his daze and shoot the bastard if he hadn't been able to do so himself. If scratching, yelling, biting, screaming, punching, fighting, slapping and kicking Dean didn't break the powerful connection, Sam hoped that him dying would be enough to jolt Dean back to reality.
Sam sighed when he considered that thought.
When Dean came out of the trance, the possession, the whatever it was that was controlling him; the guilt Dean would be feeling would be beyond words.
Sam swallowed as he thought about Dean.
He was never going to see Dean again. Not ever. The Dean that would be busy trying to
kill tonight, that wasn't his Dean at all. Sam swallowed the sad thought that came searing into his mind, he wasn't sure now, when he'd last laid eyes on his real Dean. The Dean he'd seen last night had been broken, crumbling and in need of serious guidance and help. Sam felt like a failure for not being able to save the situation earlier on, and now because of his own stupidity, his own lack of self belief, he was would be causing Dean even more pain with his death.
His hands were reaching for the note pad before he'd even realised.
He had to explain this to Dean, had to make him understand that this wasn't his fault, that none of this was Dean's fault. That Dean hadn't killed him that the spirit had.
Sam had been scribbling frantically for almost a minute when the pen rolled out of his hand and clattered nosily onto the counter.
It was then the enormity of what he was doing fully struck home to the younger of the Winchesters.
This was his goodbye to Dean.
His actual good bye to Dean.
The little brother didn't know exactly what was going to happen tonight, or even where it would happen, but he knew that this little note he was writing would be last thing Dean ever got from him.
Sam felt tears burn frantically at his eyes, his mind instantly filling with regrets and missed opportunities over the years to say the words that he wanted Dean to hear, to know, to understand. He could feel tears sliding down his face as the daunting task of what he was going to do tonight ploughed through him.
He was never going to see Dean again, his father again, anything. He would never see Dean playing his mullet rock inside the Impala again, never hear his brother's quirky comments about his choice of coffee beverages again. He would never see his brother smile at him, one of those smiles that lit up Dean's hazel green eyes. He'd never hear Dean tease him about the lack of women in his life. He would never see Dean's overprotective nature in force again, he'd never...
Sam buried his face in his hands as his body racked with sobs.
His hands shakily picked up the pen again, and he watched as his tears dripped onto the page he'd previously been writing on, blurring the blue ink on the page. He couldn't even see out of his eyes to write.
Ripping the page off, Sam Winchester looked down at the clean white sheet of papers, which were already been filled with his tears. He held the pen in his and, and he stared blankly at the paper.
How do you say goodbye to someone you love...?
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Dean sat in a trance at the stop lights, the lights on red, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his head anywhere but on driving.
In a jerked movement, he shoved the indicator on the car and pulled off the road and sat on the shoulder, ignoring the angry horns from behind at his abrupt movements.
The elder brother turned the ignition off and sat dumbfounded in the driver's seat.
If he screwed up tonight, just screwed up a tiny bit; then Sam was dead.
He felt that cold grip seize him again.
He had lied so much to Sam, and his little brother hadn't deserved it. Not once. He'd been so stupid, so totally stupid. Wasting all that time lying and deceiving him instead of taking care of him, getting Sam well, getting him back on his feet. His brother had been seriously injured in a car accident, Dean had been the one to discharge him with the loud warning still ringing in his ears that he could never take of Sam by himself; god how right had Sam's doctor been. That night at the accident, Sam had been completely selfless and saved the lives of the two people he loved most in the world. In the process, Sam had almost killed him. Well almost wasn't the exact truth.
Sam had died.
Sam had actually died.
Dean had stood at the side of Sam's bed watching the trained miracle workers battle in vein to save his little brother. Sam had fought valiantly for days, but the injuries and trauma had just been too much for his young body. The haemorrhage, eventually had caused too much of problem, along with countless other problems Dean hadn't even remembered. Sam's heart had given out, deciding that death would be a better option than staying in this cruel world with Dean.
Dean's heart skipped a beat, and he felt the nausea descending on him.
The flashback of him standing in stunned silence as the nursing staff had walked away as Sam's time of death had been read out; it would haunt Dean forever.
He'd never forget holding Sam's lifeless form in his arms, refusing to accept that Sam was dead. He'd clung to Sam, too afraid to put him down in case someone took him away.
Dean felt tears burn at his eyes.
The gods above, well, Dean figured that would be what Sam would think, Dean on the other hand wasn't sure who was responsible for bringing Sam back; but deep down, Dean knew that it had been Sam's time to move on and somehow Sammy had cheated death; not that Dean was complaining.
Dean had watched Sam sleep that night, and had made so many promises to the sleeping form, some whispered to the sleeping boy, some engraved in Dean's consciousness forever.
Dean had promised to never let Sam out of his sight again.
Dean had promised that he'd take better care of Sam.
Dean had promised that somehow, and he wasn't exactly sure on the whole how part, that he would be able to show Sam how much he cared about him.
...Bang up plan with that Dean...The elder brother thought miserably...The boy's been possessed and tonight you're gonna try and bleed a demon out of him; way to take care of him, way to show him how much you care...
Dean felt the tears beginning to roll down his face.
The situation that was facing him tonight suddenly dawned on him like a slap in the face. If he really did make one move wrong, he could kill Sam.
Someone had given him back his brother and if he wasn't careful, Sam would die at his own hands tonight.
The thought of Sam dying filled Dean with utter dread.
The thought of Sam dying because of something he did; that was a thought that Dean Winchester didn't even want to consider...
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The spirit watched the Winchester home through enraged crimson eyes.
The youngest boy had lied, had fooled the elder one.
The spirit fumed as it unsuccessfully tried to enter the beach side home; it cursed furiously as the youngest boys voodoo continued to block its path.
That boy was really beginning to piss him off now.
Angrily it watched as the young man walked around the apartment, his eyes unusual to what the spirit was used to seeing.
The boy looked as if the light that always shone so brightly from him had been drained from his very soul.
A smile flickered on the spirit's face.
Irony was a funny thing.
Cause tonight, not only the light, but the boys very life would be drained away.
A smile danced on its twisted face again.
It was time to get the game started...
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Dean hadn't been driving for very long, he'd managed to steady himself enough to pull back onto the road, suck in his nerves and refocus his fuzzy mind on the task at hand.
He would save Sam.
He didn't care what it took, how he had to do it; but he knew the end result.
Dean forced himself to imagine them both in a weeks time, sitting in Florida, supping up some beers on the beach, heck, maybe he'd actually let Sam take off to 'Seaworld' to see the penguins; after all, he did like penguins.
A smile flickered to his face. A natural one. Dean couldn't remember having actually just smiled for the heck of it in ages, but the thought of going to 'Seaworld', with his younger brother had brought an instant smile to his face.
For all the faults that Sam had, his stubborn attitude, his awkwardness, his sense of moral that always drove Dean mad, his 'try to always do the right thing by the law' persona that often made Dean want to strangle him, his naiveté at the evil things in life, his continuing questioning of everything they did, his stubbornness...ohhhh, Sam and his stubbornness, and that pout. That puppy-eyed pout thing that Sam had mastered by the age of two, the way he said the word 'please' that always had you giving into him, and then kicking yourself ten seconds later.
Did Dean already think of stubbornness..? Yeah Sam was one stubborn son of a bitch when he wanted to be.
It was also one of the things that Dean secretly loved about him.
That along with Sam's ability to just be gentle, the way his kindness had a way of drowning you, his love had a way of making you feel like you were the most important person in the world to him; Dean could never fault Sam on that. Not ever.
He loved Sam's ability to see a future, always planning, always trying to get his dysfunctional family to do normal things, like have meals together, cooking, heck, even laundry Sam used to turn into a game.
Sam had this innocence to him that Dean adored and whether Dean wanted to secretly accept it or acknowledge it, he loved the fact that Sam made it no secret that Dean was his hero, that he loved, respected and would listen to Dean like a kid for the rest of his life.
Yes they argued about almost every freaking decision, but usually, unless Sam felt incredibly strong about the subject, Sam usually always went with Dean. He allowed Dean to take lead.
Sam loved his elder brother, loved him so much.
Dean knew it and it made tears spring to his eyes, as he suddenly wondered if Sam knew how much he cared for him. His mind instantly went back to the accident, those nights at the hospital where he'd whisper to the comatose Sam that he loved him more than anything, and as soon as he would wake up, Dean promised to tell Sam how much he loved him to his face, perhaps even throw in a hug.
Yet that had been almost three weeks ago and Dean hadn't told Sam once.
He'd hugged him, but never without one of them near border hysteria.
And then...
Dean's head suddenly snapped up, his eyes wide as a face loamed in the windscreen. His foot slammed violently on the brake, his heart racing uncontrollably as cars honked and served to avoid the Impala that sat stunted in the middle of the road.
Dean's hands tightened around the steering wheel.
" Peek-a-boo, I see you..." Sam's voice sang as his face hovered in the windscreen, Dean's eyes locked on his little brother.
" Sam...?" Dean whispered, his brother's face illuminated because of the headlight.
" Help..." Sam's voice whispered, the figure growing faint in the light, " Help me, please..."
Before Dean could even respond to his brother's plea, Sam's ghostly figure vanished.
" Sammy...!?" Dean shouted his eyes frantically searching the street.
" Save him Dean, you have to save him now..."
Dean threw the car into drive and with new determination, headed for home...
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Sam's hands gingerly placed the letter onto of the coffee table. He hoped Dean would find it if things went wrong. Lord knows it had taken him longer to write it than he thought it would.
The younger boy shivered involuntary, as he pulled his brown hooded sweater on and zipped the top up.
Sam wasn't sure what to do; he'd already switched the lights off in the house and was awaiting his elder brother's arrival home, and he'd replaced Dean's gun back to it's normal home. But then what..? Sit him down and tell him we needed to talk, that we had a situation that needed to be discussed, that he knew all about the drugging and evil voices, and the rituals..?
Sam snorted out loud at the thought of that conversation.
Hell, that ship had sailed a long time ago.
If Sam had wanted to talk, he should have confronted Dean as soon as he'd watched like an idiot from the deck, his elder brother drugging his soda. He should have come out his bedroom right in the middle of Dean making the poison and confronted him then and there.
" The gift of hindsight eh..?" Sam muttered to himself as he nervously looked around the dark apartment.
Sighing, Sam finally was defeated and had to agree with the warning voice that had been screaming at him for the last ten minutes.
He needed a gun, he needed anything to hand. He needed a weapon that he could hurt Dean with but not kill him.
Sam made a face at that thought, of course because it's totally normal that people walk around with weapons simply to mame people with, and not to kill them.
But the idea of hurting Dean, of actually purposely doing it made him sick; at least Dean had the excuse of being under the influence of evil. What the hell was Sam's excuse..?
...Trying to keep us both alive...Sam thought to himself as he walked towards the sliding door that would take him out onto the veranda.
He jumped when he heard the front door burst open in the darkness.
And after that, everything just happened faster than Sam expected.
He barely got his arm down to protect his stomach when Sam caught Dean's wild eyes reflecting in the moon lit room.
" Dean, wa..-" Sam gasped, as he almost completed the sentence, but the noise of something being ripped from the wall distracted him.
" It's over..." Dean hissed in a tone Sam had never heard before, as the elder brother brought down the weapon he had in his hands right along the back of Sam's head.
Sam's mind exploded into a violent array of colours as he felt his body hit the floor hard.
He could feel Dean standing over him, his brother's foot nudging him to make sure he was out of it.
" This ends, now..." Dean whispered in a voice so cold that Sam hurriedly accepted the darkness that welcomed him with warm arms.
The younger brother just prayed it wasn't the last words he'd ever hear Dean say to him...
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Hope you guys are still enjoying, looks like Sam is in huge freaking trouble. Don't forget to leave me a little review if you can ! Thanks for reading and see you all next update ! Xxxx