They spent the next few days at Bobby's. Sometimes Sam thought Bobby could sense that there was someone there, but mostly he just went about his daily business like normal. When Bobby went for a drive, or into town to do errands, Sam and Dean tagged along. Dean loved riding in the Impala. Sam knew how much the car had always meant to his brother, and he was glad that Dean had the opportunity to ride in it again. At night, they would always find themselves back at Bobby's house. Dean would sit in the driver's seat of the Impala and run his hands up and down the steering wheel. He missed driving it, and Sam thought that maybe if it weren't so loud, Dean could take it for a drive down some back road where there wouldn't be any other traffic – because how strange would it be for someone to see the car driving around with nobody behind the wheel? But the engine was loud and Bobby was a light sleeper. It wouldn't be a good idea. Sometimes Sam sat in the car with Dean, but mostly he stayed inside and looked through Bobby's notes, searched for another hunt.
The fourth day that Sam and Dean were at Bobby's, Bobby put on a suit and got in the Impala. Sam shot Dean a questioning look, but Dean didn't hesitate before jumping in the passenger seat next to Bobby. They drove for ten minutes before they came to a cemetery. It was a small, secluded place, hidden from the road by a row of evergreen trees. There were only a handful of graves, and it looked like nobody had visited the place in quite a while. Bobby pulled a bottle of whiskey from under his coat and stepped out of the car. Sam frowned and followed. Bobby walked to the corner of the cemetery. There, under a particularly tall pine tree, was a wide headstone. A thought occurred to Sam.
"Dean, what's the date?"
Dean shrugged.
As they closed in on the grave site, Sam could make out the carvings in the stone. There were no names, only letters and dates. In the center of the headstone, near the top, was a 'W'. Slightly below and on either side were the letters 'D' and 'S', and under that were dates. Under the 'D' it read 1979-2012, and under the 'S', 1983-2012. Sam blinked in surprise.
"Dean." He whispered. "This is where we're buried."
When Cas sent them back to Earth, he warned that they could be killed by salting and burning their bones. Of course, that meant that their bodies hadn't been burned when they died as was tradition for hunters. Still, Dean was surprised to be standing in front of the place where they were buried. Why hadn't Bobby burned their bodies? It didn't make sense. Dean's jaw hung slack from shock, and then Bobby started talking.
"I wish I knew where you boys ended up." The older hunter said softly. "I hope you're together in Heaven. That's what I like to think happened. I tried callin' Cas a few times, just to ask, but he never came." Bobby chuckled softly. "Dean, you always were the only one who could get his attention." He took a deep breath and continued. "You know I tried. I tried bringin' you boys back. I'm sorry I couldn't do it, but maybe you're happier where you are now. Things are really a mess down here. That dick Acham is smart, and I'm havin' a hard time keepin' up with him." He paused, and for a moment Dean though he was done, but then he went on. "I wish you boys were still around to help. It's just not the same without ya." Bobby shook his head and sighed. "I miss ya both." He said softly, and twisted off the lid of the whiskey and poured it over the grave.
With that, Bobby stepped away and shuffled back to the Impala. Sam and Dean stood there for a moment longer, looking down at the headstone that marked their grave. Maybe someday, years from now, someone would look down at the engraving on the stone and wonder what the letters stood for. Maybe they would wonder what ever happened to 'S' and 'D', and why they had both died in the same year, and at such a young age. They would never guess that under the vague headstone were the bones of two hunters who had saved the world so many years before. Soon enough, there would be nobody around to remember them.
"It's been a year." Sam said softly.
One year. What would happen when the world changed and evolved and everyone they had ever known was dead, but they were still around, roaming the earth as lost spirits. Would having each other still be enough? Dean shook his head to get rid of the thought. Sam would always be enough.
"C'mon, Sammy." He rested a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Let's go back."
After the cemetery in South Dakota, Sam and Dean left Bobby's. If they decided to keep hunting, they didn't need to be at Bobby's to do it, and in all actuality, were probably only making things more difficult for the man. Sam waited nearby and rolled his eyes as Dean said goodbye to the Impala, practically throwing himself over the hood in an over-dramatic gesture.
Sam liked having somewhere to call 'home', so to speak. Being able to return to Bobby's every night had been refreshing, and Dean agreed that it wouldn't hurt to have a home base, so they popped in and out of remote areas until they found an old log cabin in Michigan. It was near a river and surrounded by trees. The inside was fully furnished, but the furniture was old and torn and a few windows were busted out. It was clear that nobody had lived there – or even visited – in a few years at least. There was a brick fireplace that Sam lit in the evenings. They couldn't feel the temperature, but it was the idea that he liked.
They spent the better part of most days at the cabin, though sometimes they would go to a beach for old times sake. At night, they would go to libraries or news stands and read up on current events. Sometimes, Sam would take a book from the library to read back at the cabin, but he always made sure to return it. Occasionally, they would head back to Bobby's and check to see if he had made any progress with Acham. Though they always had their eyes open for other hunts, their priority was Acham, and they were determined to help Bobby finish the son-of-a-bitch who had killed them.
It was two months later when they were sitting outside the cabin by the river, waiting for the sun to go down so they could go into town and search for some more leads. A sudden ruffling of leaves interrupted their conversation, and Dean looked over his shoulder to see the cause of the noise. He jumped up immediately and spun around.
"Cas?"
Sure enough, the angel was standing in a pile of leaves near the edge of the river, looking tired and beaten. His trench coat was torn, his hair was tousled, and his skin had a sickly pale color to it.
"Yes, it's me." Castiel said breathlessly.
"Are you okay?"
"I'll be fine. I don't have much time." Cas reached in his pocket and pulled out a long, silver beaded necklace. At the bottom was an oval shaped pendant with a woman's face carved into it. A few more beads hung from the bottom of the pendant and attached to a crucifix. "Take this." He said, holding out the necklace.
Dean stepped forward and took the beads from Cas. "A rosary?" He asked
"It's the Rosary of the Virgin Mary." Cas explained with a sense of urgency in his voice. "With it, you can kill Acham."
"But we don't even know where he is." Sam interjected.
"You must find him. Acham must be stopped."
"Cas, what's going on?" Dean asked, taking a step toward the angel.
Cas looked to the sky like he heard a noise that Sam and Dean couldn't. When he spoke again, it was quiet and rushed. "Acham is attempting to free Lucifer and Michael from Hell. This will bring on the next apocalypse. Raphael is willing to let this happen." He stopped for a moment and listened to the sky, then put his hands on Sam and Dean's shoulders and recited a few words of Latin.
"What did you do?" Dean asked, but Castiel was distracted.
"I must go. I'll come to you again when I can. You must stop Acham." And with that, he was gone.
Dean turned the rosary in his hands. "What are we supposed to do with this?" He wondered aloud.
Sam shrugged. "I don't know, but another apocalypse doesn't sound good."
Dean nodded and lifted the rosary to put around his neck.
"Wait!" Sam shouted, and Dean froze. "Don't you think that's a little dangerous? I mean, this is some sort of weapon from Heaven. You really think you should put it around your neck?"
Dean considered it for a moment, then stuffed the rosary into his pocket on the inside of his jacket instead. Alright, so they needed to find Acham – and soon. Cas was in trouble. He was rebelling against Raphael again, and once again the fate of the world hung in the balance. Dean was relatively surprised that Cas came to them for help, but was glad at the same time. They stopped the apocalypse once before, they could do it again.
"I guess we better get to work."
The first place they went was Bobby's. It had been a few days since they had been there last, and maybe Bobby had some new information. It would be nice if they could actually ask Bobby if he had anything, because not everything was going to be nicely laid out in a newspaper and available for clipping and tacking to the wall, but that wasn't an option. Instead, they waited until Bobby was asleep and then began going through all the information he had gathered on Acham in the past year. Bobby mostly had saved a lot of articles on tragedies and unexplained disappearances that he must have thought Acham was behind. After an hour and a half, Dean was getting fidgety from too much research, and Sam was on his fourth file of unorganized information.
"Hold on." Sam said suddenly.
Dean stopped humming and looked to Sam expectantly. "Please tell me you found something."
"Each town that was affected had a storm sometime within the week prior to the incident."
"Right." Dean replied, unimpressed. "Common demonic omen. I don't see how–"
"Each town had an electrical storm." Sam interrupted. "And in each town, a church was struck by lightning. They lost power each time and had to shut down the churches for repairs. All of the incidents took place while one of these churches were out of order."
Dean raised an eyebrow. "Nobody made a connection?"
"I'm sure nobody else would think that a bunch of escaped convicts would have anything to do with an electrical storm that happened a few days before. Or that the storms were related to fires or plane crashes days later." Sam pointed out. "Besides, they all took place in different towns. I doubt anyone even thought of connecting the incidents. They'd have to know what they were looking for."
Sam resorted to the computer to search for any recent electrical storms, and Dean went back to humming classic rock songs. Twenty minutes later, they had a lead.
"Here we go." Sam said excitedly, straightening his posture and turning the screen so Dean could see. "Massive electrical storm last night in Limon, Colorado. New Life Christian Church was struck by lightning, and Sunday's services will be held at the county park while the church undergoes repairs."
Dean fisted the air. "Nice work, Sammy. To Colorado, I guess."
"But we don't know how to use the rosary." Sam objected.
"Well, we'll just have to figure it out."
Limon, Colorado was a small town. The majority of the 2,00 people who called Limon home lived on farms outside of city limits. The town itself was a nice little stop off Interstate 70, and the main road was lined with gas stations, cafes, and bars. Sam and Dean stood downtown next to an antique looking sign that read Cozy Cafe in large, red letters.
"So where do we start?" Dean asked. He wondered how Cas was doing and hoped that the angel would show up soon and tell them how to use the rosary.
"I guess we just keep our eyes open." Sam answered.
"Whatever's going to happen, it could happen any time this week?"
"Basically, yeah. We'll just have to stick around and see what happens."
"In the mean time," Dean said. "We can do some research and try to figure out this rosary."
After the little town fell asleep, Sam and Dean went to the library to look up the Rosary of The Virgin Mary. If they were lucky, they might find an article online explaining how the weapon should be used to kill demons. A lot of times, the lore on the internet is right, but this time all they found was a prayer containing the phrase 'Rosary of The Virgin Mary', rather than information on an actual object with demon killing powers. Their only hope was that Cas showed up in time to save the day.
Their third day in town, they were sitting in the Cozy Cafe watching out the window for suspicious activity – there wasn't much more they could do – when a loud, booming sound rattled the thin glass windows of the restaurant. Customers hid under tables and ran out the door to their vehicles. Outside, they could hear screaming and car alarms beeping and sirens in the distance coming closer.
"What the hell was that?" Dean jumped up from the table and rushed out to the street, Sam on his heels.
The sight outside was hard to take in. Just a couple blocks down, a fireball engulfed an entire block, sending thick, black blankets of smoke into the sky. Many of the windows on nearby buildings were shattered, cars were tipped over, and people were running around screaming for help or for for their loved ones. A block away, a woman wearing a white dress ran in circles screaming. Her dress was on fire.
Sam jumped into action and began running toward the explosion, but Dean stepped in front of him and held him back.
"We can't help them, Sam!" He yelled over the roar of the commotion. "There's nothing we can do. We have to find Acham. He has to be here."
Sam looked back to the scene in front of him. The firefighters had arrived and were working to put out the fire. Paramedics were assessing injured people on the street, and someone had thrown a blanket over the girl in the white dress. Dean was right. If they didn't stop Acham now, things like this would keep happening. They ran unseen through the crowd of people, frantically searching for the demon responsible.
Acham appeared in the middle of the fireball. His dark hair was combed neatly and he was wearing a business suit without a rip or smudge of dirt on it. He was increadibly out of place amongst the chaos, but people were too preoccupied to notice. Sam and Dean noticed though, and they quickly went to him before he disappeared into the dark, smoke-filled sky.
"Sam. Dean." Acham said nonchalantly once the boys were next to him. "It's nice to see you again."
Dean snorted. "Can't say the same about you. Last time we saw you, you tried to kill us."
"Ah, yes." Acham turned to look past Dean into the destruction he had caused. "And I thought I had done such a nice job. And yet, here you are." Acham turned his attention back to Sam and Dean and lowered his eyebrows as he concentrated on them. After a moment he amended, "It appears the job was done."
"We've come to repay the favor." Dean's jaw was clenched, his eyes narrow and threatening.
"Oh really?" Acham seemed once again uninterested in what Dean was saying. "How exactly do you plan on doing that?"
"With this." Dean pulled out the rosary and watched with satisfaction as Acham's eyes widened slightly. He quickly regained his composure.
"Now boys." He said. "Why don't we do this somewhere more private? People are starting to take notice."
Sure enough, people were looking with curiosity and confusion at the well dressed man standing in the middle of the disaster without a scratch on him.
"Or I could end this right now." Dean threatened.
Acham smiled. "I don't believe you know how to use that weapon." He said smugly. "Now, I could just disappear again. Give you boys some time to figure that thing out, and maybe you will be able to find me next time I'm in town. Or, you can come with me now and we can talk this over like adults." Acham didn't wait for an answer as he started walking away from the explosion.
"Son of a bitch." Dean said angrily under his breath, and turned to follow the demon.
Acham lead them to a bar called Old Broadway. They walked through the empty building and into the kitchen. There, they followed Acham through a door and down a flight of stairs to a secluded room lit by a bare bulb hanging dimly from the ceiling. There were three other people in the room already, and all stood straight and stock still as Acham entered, like soldiers waiting for their orders. Demons, Sam thought, and shot Dean a sideways glance. Dean barely nodded in response. This was not good.
"Please, come in." Acham said with a wave of his arm. Sam and Dean entered the room cautiously. They had nothing but the rosary to use as a weapon, and Acham was right in that they didn't know how to use it.
"Dean." Sam whispered, but Dean ignored him as he took a step closer to Acham, holding out the rosary threateningly.
Acham looked at the silver crucifix and smirked. "What do you think you're going to do with that?"
"I'm going to kill you." Dean snarled.
"I don't think that's going to happen, Dean." Acham flicked his wrist and two of the Demons moved swiftly to Sam and held his arms roughly to restrain him from moving. In the same moment, Acham raised his hand and held it, palm out, facing Dean. He closed his eyes and began reciting Latin.
"Dean!" Sam yelled, and struggled to break free from the demons, but the Latin seemed to have no effect on Dean, and Sam calmed down and quirked an eyebrow.
Acham opened his eyes and inhaled sharply through his nose. "Is that a protection sigil I smell?" He asked bitterly. "Teaming up with angels. That's so... like you."
Acham nodded and the two demons holding Sam released him and stepped back in place. Sam tensed, unsure of what to expect.
"I believe we are currently at an impasse." Acham looked down, then back at Dean with dark eyes. "It seems that the protection your angel friends have given you doesn't allow me to use my powers against you, and you don't know how to use your weapon. So you see, there's nothing more we can do here today." He paused and walked past Sam and Dean, closer to the door. "Until next time."
The three other demons followed Acham out the door and the heavy wood came closed behind them with a thud. Sam and Dean stood in place, unsure of what had just happened, or what to do next.
"All that for nothing." Sam said, a tone of disbelief and hatred in his voice.
Dean rolled his shoulders and pocketed the rosary again. "We'll get him next time." They went back to the street.
The firefighters now had the fire put out. All the injured and dead had been loaded up and taken to hospitals and morgues, and the bystanders were being held off by police and caution tape. The only thing left behind was the destruction and the scar that the tragedy would leave on the community. Sam ran a shaky hand through his hair.
"C'mon, Sammy." Dean said. "Let's go home."
Thanks again for reading! Bonus points if you know why I picked Acham to be the demon in this story ;)
(p.s. it has nothing to do with the plot of the story, really, I just didn't know what to name my demon)
