Things are heating up in here, and we've got three more chapters to go, counting this one (at least, I think now they are about three). Thanks to you wonderful reviewers who are keeping my Supernatural muse alive. Let's see what more I have in store for our boys in this chapter (mwahaha)
Chapter 7
Sam was still reeling from Holda's enigmatic words. What did that mean, that Dean was thinking of killing Sam? What had Holda seen?
Of course, there was the innocent explanation. Supernatural beings were often excessively literal. That was why people were advised not to bargain with fairies or, if they really needed to, they were supposed to word their requests in such a manner as to make sure that everything was clear and precise, and easy to understand. Figurative language was not something many supernatural creatures mastered. It could be that Dean was simply pissed at Sam, and the sentence I'm gonna kill him that Holda must have read in Dean's mind, meant nothing more innocuous than the fact that Sam was in hot water with his brother.
Sam was not one for hope, though. The truth was, Dean had been acting weird around him since their father died. And maybe, Sam was beginning to think, maybe there was more to the weirdness than grief. Sam knew Dean in grief. That was when his brother got aggressive and challenging, lashing out at Sam because he needed a target to focus all his confusing feelings on. Sam had gotten plenty of that this time around, but he had also gotten something else: a kind of wary avoidance that he could not explain. He had thought of calling Dean on it, but the only times he had tried to address it had led to Dean walking away and a strained, icy silence over the next few days.
It's ridiculous, Sam thought. Dean would never kill me.
Still, he had thought Dean would never leave him alone either. Dean had all but promised Sam the previous year that as long as he was around, nothing bad could happen to Sam, that he would be there to make sure Sam did not slip, did not become something dark and deadly. And yet, he had recently looked Sam in the eye and admitted he had been thinking of switching places with Dad. Just like that, he was ready to abandon Sam without a thought to his earlier promises.
Maybe Holda was not that far from the truth when she said she knew Dean had been thinking of killing Sam. It would be easier, Sam thought, than sticking around and watching Sam's every move to make sure he did not slip. In many ways, Sam would not even blame him. Despite that, he could not help the rush of anger and betrayal. He clenched his hands.
He did not hear Holda laughing softly behind him.
xxxXXXxxx
Dean still had three hours before Bobby got there – assuming nothing happened to Bobby on the way and considering how his year had been going so far, that was quite the assumption. He knew he was supposed to wait, but he did not think he could any longer.
"I'm going to the forest," he told Alfred. "To get to Sam."
Alfred frowned.
"I thought you said you're waiting for backup."
"No time for that," Dean said quickly.
"Are you sure?" Alfred persisted. "You still have two days left. And if your friend is coming in a few hours…"
Dean shook his head.
"Maybe I can do more in the forest. If a Bobby Singer comes here, tell him where I went. You'll know him immediately. He wears a baseball cap and is grumpy as hell."
Alfred grimaced.
"Charming, I'm sure."
Dean walked out of the motel. He was only armed with his gun, and he had debated if he should be carrying even that. Because stronger than the urge to answer the call of the Wild Hunt was the idea that when he saw Sam the next time, he would be forced to kill him.
xxXXXxxx
Alma waited for Dean for a couple of hours. It was becoming more and more clear, though, that Dean had given her the slip.
"Really," she muttered. "If I didn't know any better I would say these guys are avoiding me on purpose. Way to give a girl a complex."
She was beginning to doubt more and more that the two strangers were FBI. Sure, they behaved like feds, keeping her in the dark and calling her only when they needed information, but there was something not sitting right with her. Where was Sam? Was he really undercover? Or was there something else entirely – something she could not understand or did not want to believe?
"Screw it," she said. "If you're not coming to me, I'm coming to you."
She had no idea where to get Dean, but she had a fair idea of where Sam was: in the forest. Well, she'd be going in the forest too and dragging Sam, whoever he was, out there by the ear. Then she would have her explanations, and then they could all come up with the plan to put a stop to the disappearances once and for all. Together.
Alma left the station armed only with her service weapon. She did not pause to think that everyone who disappeared in the forest either did not come back at all, or came back completely changed.
xxxXXXxxx
It was nearly ten o'clock at night when Bobby pulled in the motel parking lot, following the instructions Dean had given him on their last call. That had been about four hours ago and Dean had been conspicuously absent since then. Bobby was starting to get the sinking feeling that Dean had done something stupid – not surprising for a Winchester, especially considering the frame of mind Dean had been in since their father's death – but still, Bobby had been breaking all speeding laws ever passed and then some to get there in time exactly to avoid Dean doing something he would be regretting later.
The Impala was easy to recognize in the parking lot, so at least Bobby knew he was in the right place. He got out of the car, leaving the weapon Rufus had given him in the backseat. He walked into the reception area and nodded to the manager.
"Hey, you've got two boys staying with you, they'd be tall, one of them's a bit of a loud mouth…"
"You mean Sam and Dean?" the manager asked wearily. "You're the back-up Dean said was coming."
Right, Dean had also mentioned civilian help the last time he had called.
"Let me guess, you must be Alfred."
The man shrugged.
"Right now I wish I wasn't. Those boys left me with one hell of a mess."
Bobby frowned. His instincts had been on the mark then.
"What do you mean left you? Dean was supposed to meet me here."
Alfred rolled his eyes.
"Somehow Dean didn't strike me as the type to do what he's supposed to. He said it's better if he goes in the forest by himself. I think he wanted a head start."
"Balls!" Bobby swore fervently.
"I suppose that's a fair sentiment."
Bobby shook his head.
"No, you don't understand. It's bad. Worse than I expected, even. Dean doesn't have the whole picture yet. It took me a while to figure it out and by the time it came to me and I tried to call Dean, he wasn't answering. I assume that's when he left."
"I told him not to go – well, I advised him."
Bobby snorted. Dean had never been one to follow advice, especially not when he thought he knew better and especially not when Sam's life was at stake.
"The problem is that this time, I don't know how much of Dean's decisions were his and how much that thing was messing with his head. See, by going into the forest, Dean is going to be playing right into Holda's hands."
XXxxxXXX
Sam dropped out of the Hunt. Or, at least, he thought he did. Given how Holda was messing with his mind, it was hard to tell what was real and what wasn't. He did not think Holda would let him be even if he really had managed to escape. He sensed he was too valuable to her for some reason. He just could not tell why.
Anyway, Sam did not intend to escape the Hunt. He had another plan. He wanted to chase it. Stopping it from inside was a problem. But maybe keeping after it might help him ruin Holda's plans, if only a little.
A crack behind him had him turning around. His heart was pounding in his chest, adrenaline overflooding his body. He reached out for his gun, but let his head drop when he recognized Alma Larson.
"Sherriff, what the hell are you doing here?" he hissed.
Alma frowned.
"I could ask you the same thing."
Sam shook his head. He did not know what happened to people who interfered with the Wild Hunt. Alma did not fit in with the pattern, not as far as Sam could tell. She was anything but troubled. She would not be on Holda's radar – which would probably make Holda extremely angry when she discovered her there.
"Listen, you have to get the hell out of here," he said urgently.
Alma raised her eyebrows.
"Oh, do I? Why? I'll ruin your high and mighty undercover operation?"
Sam nearly asked what she was talking about, then stopped. Dean had probably been running interference for him. That meant things were not as bad as Holda suggested. He shook himself away from that thought, because of course Dean did not want to do what Holda was suggesting.
"Alma, listen to me very carefully. It's not safe. Now, you should go find Dean…"
He stopped when Alma took a step forward.
"Guess what? I tried. We actually agreed to meet at one point to swap notes, but then he vanished off the face of the earth and stopped returning my calls. In fact, if I call him now, he won't answer."
Sam frowned. Dean often played fast and loose with the authorities, so that was not much of a surprise that he was avoiding Alma. But, it was a small town, so Alma could have found him if she wanted to. Which meant Dean was in the forest.
He shook his head, irritation towards his brother hard to control. What did Dean think he was doing? Was this another suicidal play, like the deal he had wanted to make for Dad?
"I don't have time for this," he muttered.
"I suggest you make time," Alma said, thinking he was referring to her.
The sound of hooves had him tensing.
"Alma," he said urgently. "Run!"
Alma noticed that he was genuinely troubled. She drew her weapon. Sam shook his head.
"No time for that. Run!"
He felt the earth shaking beneath his feet. He placed himself in front of Alma, hoping to bear the brunt of what was going to happen. A mounted procession, only a small part of the Wild Hunt, suddenly surrounded them.
"Sam, what's happening?" Alma said, pointing her gun at the riders.
"Don't shoot," Sam ordered. "Don't draw attention to yourself. Just…stay where you are. Stay still and they might pass you by. Do you understand? Whatever happens to me, don't interfere and stay still."
Alma clutched her gun tighter.
"Like hell," she said through clenched teeth.
It was too late though. A moving wall seemed to speed towards them and they were both caught up in the stampede. Sam hit the ground hard, the breath knocked out of his body. He tried to move, tried to find Alma and protect her from the hits somehow, but a blow to the head stunned him. The last thing he heard was Alma's desperate screams.
xxxXXXxxx
The forest seemed to not want to reveal its secrets to Dean. He had been going in circles for a while, despite following all the instructions he had learned from his dad during the endless hours of wilderness training when he was a kid. It was as if something did not want Dean to find the Wild Hunt, not until he was ready for it – or it was ready for him.
He had called Sam's name several times and had received no answer. He had debated calling Holda's as well – weren't these things supposed to come when called? – but, in the end, had decided that would be a bad idea. He was not armed with anything that could harm Holda – since he had so wisely decided he did not need Bobby after all and had gone half-cocked into the forest. Sam would have a field day when he found out about Dean's latest stunt.
Dean's jaw tightened at the thought of his brother. Part of it was worry. He needed Sam safe and back by his side. Another part of him was going over John's ultimatum again, and wondering if this was not where things started to go sideways.
Dean had seen enough over the past year and half to know something was targeting Sam. He wasn't stupid. He might deny there were any signs in front of Sam – mainly because he did not want Sam losing hope – but that did not mean that, deep down, he wasn't starting to think he got why John had felt the need to drop such a bombshell in Dean's lap.
He wondered now, though, if the Wild Hunt had anything to do with it. At first he had thought it was a way for John to keep Sam off the board without having to kill him. But surely John Winchester had realized that was not going to happen and Sam could cause more harm in the Wild Hunt than out of it. Unless, maybe what he was trying to do with that research was make sure Sam never got anywhere near the Wild Hunt. And that was exactly where Sam had gone, thinking he was doing good. Dean snorted. That was typical of his brother.
"And he's the one accusing me of not thinking things through," he muttered.
A long shrill cry sounded in the distance. Dean froze.
"Sam?" he called.
Then the sound of hooves nearly deafened him and a procession of shadows was upon him. He fell to the ground, trying to cover his head as best he could in order to avoid being crushed under the stampede.
xxXXXxxxx
"I have a friend of sorts who tangled with Holda," Bobby said. "Not in the Wild Hunt, but he knows her games. I think she feeds on conflict. It's why she chose these victims. From what I could find, Annette and Klara had a bit of a conflict about their vanished father. Well, Holda fueled that conflict when she took Annette. Same with the guy who killed himself, he apparently had a huge fight with his wife, too. Which means…"
He paused and looked meaningfully at Alfred.
"Right," Alfred said. "The truth is, my wife wanted to divorce me. She had met someone else. It would have been perfectly amicable, though, we would have split custody of the kids, and if she was not happy with me anymore I was not going to force her to stay. As far as I am concerned, there was no conflict between me and her, so why did this Holda take her?"
Bobby bit his lips. Alfred, apparently, did not want to see the truth.
"Your wife did not try to kill you when she returned," he pointed out soberly.
Alfred paled.
"You mean…Evan…I suppose Evan could have found out, although he did not tell me. I suppose he would have been angry and confused, but for crying out loud, he was six. He wouldn't have killed his own mother and whatever anger there was, it wouldn't have gotten that destructive and we would have worked on it."
Bobby grimaced.
"Well, that's all very logical. The only problem is, Holda ain't human. She doesn't think like us. She sees resentment, and thinks if she exerts enough control, she can lead others to cause death. Half the time she's right."
Alfred was silent, staring at the ground.
"And Sam and Dean? When I met them they seemed quite close. Tied to each other."
Bobby snorted. He was sure Alfred could not understand everything that bound Sam and Dean together. Hell, Bobby himself could barely fathom their relationship and he had known the boys almost all their lives.
"Let's just say there's always cause for some resentment in sibling relationships. In some more than others. Sam and Dean would die and kill for each other. But the threads that bind them are tangled to hell and back. If Holda presses her advantage, she might do great damage."
He did not mention the fragility of their relationship since John Winchester's death. There were some things a stranger did not need to know.
"So what are you going to do?" Alfred asked.
Bobby pointed to his truck.
"I've got a weapon that could kill Holda. I was going to give it to Dean, but seeing as Dean's off…Well, I'll just have to find her myself."
Alfred nodded.
"Give me five minutes to organize things in here. Then I'll join you in the forest."
Bobby frowned. Having a civilian with him on a hunt was not something he could easily get behind. He made to protest when Alfred stopped him.
"Whatever you have to say – don't. Remember she took my wife. Nearly took my kid. I've got every right to be there when she dies."
The words kept Bobby silent. He knew about such things – more than Alfred realized, had actually been in Alfred's situation himself when he had been forced to kill his own wife. There were some things you could order people to do, but there were other times when you could not deny them their right to choose, even if they chose the dangerous path. This, Bobby knew, was one of those times. He sighed.
"Fine," he said. "I don't have time to argue with you right now."
Alfred smirked.
"Good choice."
"But," Bobby said seriously. "You listen to every word I tell you, got it? You do what I say, when I say, no arguments."
Alfred nodded.
"No arguments," he repeated earnestly. "I'll follow your lead."
The answer was too quick for Bobby's liking. He got the feeling he was going to regret this.
xxxXXXxxx
Sam regained consciousness slowly. His whole body was quivering with pain. Everything hurt and for a moment he could not understand why. He just lay there, trying to get his breath back and fight with the nausea that was assailing him.
"Dean?" he asked breathlessly.
Dean wasn't there, though. He remembered that now: the new case, the vision, the separation, and all that he had discovered afterwards.
"Alma," he remembered.
He sat up, but there was no sign of the sheriff. There was no sign of anyone.
Sam struggled to his feet. His ribs protested the move. They must have gotten broken in the stampede. Speaking of which, he had no idea where the Wild Hunt was. He had lost track of it again. or that was what Holda wanted him to think.
"Holda!" he shouted. "Whatever you're trying to do, it isn't going to work."
There was a flash of light and Sam staggered backwards, closing his eyes. When he opened them he saw Dean, lying on the ground close to him. his eyes were closed and he wasn't moving.
"Dean?" Sam asked uncertainly.
Dean did not even stir. Sam wavered, afraid to get closer to his brother and discover that he had lost Dean for good, and even more afraid that Dean might wake up and Sam would see the same impersonal hatred in his brother's eyes that he had witnessed in the vision Holda had given him. He did not know which scenario would break his heart the most.
Well, well, what have I done now? At least I've got everyone in the forest (even those who have no business being there), and Bobby has a weapon for Holda (some of you said it's a sword, others that it's a gun, it's actually neither, but you'll see soon).
As a sidenote, I like the idea that supernatural creatures and the like take things extremely literally and can't comprehend the nuances of human figurative language. So, really, Holda could have read anything in Dean's mind and imagined he really wanted to kill Sam. The same with her other victims as well.
