Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: It feels like something is missing from this chapter, but I don't know what it is. I've gone over it several times now and nothing's jumping out at me, but I still can't shake the feeling that I'm overlooking something.

Chapter 9: Power

The entire trip back to the apartment was spent in silence, none of the occupants feeling the urge to say anything just then. Sock was a tightly coiled spring of tension and adrenaline, his frame practically vibrating with the rush of all that they had just been through. Ben was a bundle of nerves and terror, the imagery of mass destruction occupying his mind. Winchester kept his mind clear of any extraneous thoughts with the discipline that came from a life of having to do so, keeping himself focused on the road ahead. As for Sam, he thought only of Andi and Charlie, his fear for their wellbeing the most unbearable thing he had been forced to endure to date.

He stared blankly out the window, his eyes unseeing of the passing scenery as it flashed by in the night. His body ached and his cuts and scrapes burned with a sharp pain, keeping some part of him anchored in reality. The injuries would need to be tended to, he understood that, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to care at the moment. All he could do was to silently will the car to go faster, but didn't voice that desire to Sam Winchester. In his arms, he cradled the vessel like a child, keeping it close by in case he needed it again.

Edgar Ross had wasted no time in making his getaway after destroying the monorail, disappearing without a trace. While bitter that the undead maniac had escaped, his primary concern was for his girlfriend and his little baby boy. He had very few light spots in his life anymore, those two topping his list with his friends coming in very closely behind. The thought of one of those light spots going dark was too much for him to bear and he thought he would just completely lose it if that happened.

After a fucking eternity, the car finally pulled into the parking garage of his apartment building and Sam Winchester parked the Impala in a guest spot. He immediately got out, hobbling for the stairs as fast as his feet would carry him. The elevators took too long and he didn't have the patience to stand idly in the cab, while who-knows-what was going on upstairs. Sam took the steps two at a time, the growing pain in his legs and body ignored with fierce determination. The others were hot on his trail, apparently agreeing with him on his choice of ascension.

The flight up the stairwell went by in a blur followed by his urgent trip through his hallway, ending with him bursting into his apartment. The place looked unharmed in any way, giving him the slightest sliver of hope in his heart. Quashing that for the sake of knowing the truth, he tore through the apartment, calling out Andi's name desperately. He found her in the hallway, lying motionless on the floor. He collapsed to his knees beside her still form and checked her breathing. She was still alive, eliciting a sigh of relief from him. The others came up to them just then and Sock kneeled down on her other side, a grim expression set on his usually jovial face.

If she was still here and alright, then that meant…Sam immediately sprang to his feet and made a quick dash into his bedroom, heading directly for Charlie's crib. His heart broke at the sight of the empty bed, Charlie's blanket tossed carelessly to the side. He dimly noticed his bedroom window was wide open and people approaching him from behind, as he felt himself spiral out of control. A low keening noise started building in his throat and he wailed out in anguish and rage, all the objects in the room rattling eerily as he unknowingly unleashed his pain through his telekinesis. The walls and floors began to shake and pictures from walls while knick knacks fell from their stations on their shelves. Sam Oliver truly lost all awareness of anything other than Charlie's absence by the time all the windows on his floor of the apartment building shattered like his spirit.

Sam Winchester, being the emotionally detached outsider and the standing veteran of human suffering in the room, took charge. He got Sock and Ben to put Andi on the couch and Ben went about reviving her. A catatonic Sam was led like a child into the living room, where he was put in a recliner near Andi. He was pretty much unresponsive and snapping him back to reality took a backseat for the moment. Making sure Andi was alright and getting her story about what happened was made their top priority and he ensured that Sock and Ben helped him get it done. Those two looked just about three steps from the deep end themselves, but they were still able to take orders and he was incredibly grateful for that.

Subtle groans of pain could be heard coming from the couch and everyone went over to see Andi coming to. She grimaced in pain and lifted a hand gingerly to her head and asked weakly, "what happened?"

"We were hoping you could tell us," responded Winchester.

"Where's Sam?" she asked, looking at the trio standing before her.

"He's right over there," said Ben, nodding his head in Sam's direction.

She craned her head back to see for herself and said, "baby?" When she got no response, she turned to the others with a questioning look.

"Sam's a little out of it right now," answered Sock. "how 'bout you? How do you feel?"

"Like I was knocked unconscious," she replied. Andi moved to sit up and found herself being helped up by three sets of hands. When she was properly sitting up with her back to the backrest, Andi finally noticed Sam Winchester's presence and asked him, "who are you?"

"Name's Sam," he replied, offering her a genuine smile in greeting. The confused look on her face reminded him that he was currently sharing that name with someone these people knew very well. "Sorry, Sam Winchester." Revealing his last name got him some curious looks from both Sock and Ben. "It's sort of a long story, but I kinda know your boyfriend."

"Oh," was her only response to that.

Ben took the opportunity to ask Andi the big question. "Can you remember what happened?"

Andi looked down in thought, her mind obviously working to remember the events that led up to her being left unconscious in the middle of the hallway. "It's hard to recall, but I was just coming back from checking on Charlie and then nothing." She looked back up at them and said, "I'm sorry I can't tell you more."

"That's okay," said Sock, "we're just glad you're alright."

Andi suddenly looked shocked and moved to stand up, but was gently pushed back down by both Ben and Sock, the former of which saying, "easy there, you're hurt and you need to rest."

"But Charlie!" she exclaimed. "Where is he!?"

The three of them looked down, obviously uncomfortable with the subject. The alarm on her face was apparent, causing Ben to say, "he was taken."

"No," she said, her voice thick and strangled. Looking back over at Sam, she saw that he was still sitting there looking down at the floor. He continued to show no signs of being aware of anything, his eyes on the carpet and sightless in how empty they were. She attempted standing again, this time moving more carefully and getting assistance from both Ben and Sock. Andi walked over to Sam and kneeled down in front of him, reaching out to his bloody dirt-smeared face. A good up close frontal view of him revealed how bad he looked. Her boyfriend was absolutely covered in blood, his clothing little more than tattered rags. His face was a mess of cuts and scrapes and he had what must've been a nasty gash running down his left arm. There was no telling how bad off his legs were or if he had fractured or broke anything. Her hand touched his cheek and she felt how cold his skin was, almost like ice. Gently, she pushed his face up so she was staring him in the eyes. They were blank and empty, his mind lost deep somewhere within. "Sam? Please talk to me, honey. I know you're hurt and scared, we all are, but you need to come back to us. We need you, Charlie needs you." Tears were flowing down her face, as she looked at sweet gentle Sam Oliver, whom she had known for so many years, just so lost in pain that he was catatonic. She lowered her voice to a whisper and said, "Please, I'm so sorry."

His eyes seemed to clear a little and they focused on her. "Not your fault," he said, his voice low and raspy.

"We'll get him back," she promised, so thankful to see him back in reality.

"Sam," said Ben, "I know this is hard, but I need to have a look at your injuries, okay?"

Sam took a second, before visibly collecting himself and looking at Ben. He nodded and said, "yeah, okay." Ben turned on a nearby lamp and grabbed the big first aid kit he kept in his room. Opening it up, he put on some gloves and started examining Sam's various wounds. He had Sam remove his shirt and he began cleaning his wounds, while Winchester saw to Andi's head wound. Sock, unfortunately, was left to fend for himself, which was just as well due to the fact that he had sustained very few injuries and possibly didn't even need any real treatment anyway.

The five of them stayed silent as they did this, nobody seeming to have anything to say. Ben worked quickly and gently, his hands cleaning and bandaging his wounds with a skill that spoke of a lot of experience. When he had finished, Ben put everything back in his kit and shut it, standing up to put it away. Sam's legs were bruised and scraped, a nasty gash making hamburger out of his right kneecap. He slowly got up and limped into his room and went straight to his dresser, grabbing a t-shirt from the top drawer. Slipping it on, he reached down and grabbed the crossbow from the floor where he had dropped it, his eyes briefly landing on the crib. With the crossbow in hand, he left the bedroom and rejoined the others.

Sam snatched Edgar's file from the coffee table and headed for the door, making a detour over to Andi. "I gotta go get him back," he said and then leaned over and gave her a kiss. "I love you."

"But we don't know where they took him," said Sock.

Looking down at the folder in his hand, he said, "I know where he is." Sam then looked at Winchester and told him, "thank you for all your help, Sam, I will have that talk with you, but I've got something I've gotta do right now."

"I understand," said Sam Winchester, staring him squarely in the eyes.

Ben said, "we're coming too."

"No," replied Sam, "this time, I'm going alone." With that, Sam left the apartment and made for his car. People were wandering the halls in a daze, dumbstruck at the small earthquake that took place on their floor of the apartment building. Nobody noticed him walk by with the crossbow resting against his shoulder. Sam got in the elevator and rode it down to the parking level, his face set in stone.

The drive to the old church, the one that Edgar and his followers hanged themselves in, went by in a blur. He drove nonstop all the way into the Olympic Peninsula, deep into its primordial woods, his destination somewhere not too far from Aberdeen. The file the Devil had given him had included a detailed map with the directions to the old church. It was an easy task to follow those directions, something he seared into his mind.

Several hours later, as the Sun was rising, he finally pulled into the clearing that the church was built in, putting that long and winding dirt road behind him. The church itself didn't appear to be that large from the outside, looking little bigger than a double-wide motor home. It was tall, though, it's steeple rising high into the air with a wrought-iron cross jutting out the top. Paint, which had at one point been white and pristine, was now a mottled grey and peeling in great big flakes off the rotting wood walls

Ignoring all this, Sam marched up to the front doors with the vessel firmly in hand. He came up to the doors, which looked to be rotting off their hinges and collected his mental energy together, using it like a battering ram. The doors flew easily off their rusty old hinges and slammed to the floor, kicking up great clouds of dust. It was dark and musty inside, the scent recalled instantly his memory of first being given the details of the assignment by his infernal boss. This time, there were no faint strains of organ music playing somewhere in the distance.

Across the room, on the other side of the altar, Edgar Ross and his two remaining followers were standing side by side. Before them, housed cruelly in an old metal cage –the kind that rabbits or guinea pigs would be kept as pets in- was his little boy. Charlie was crying unmercifully and looked cold. Stamping down his fear and concern for the time being, Sam immediately shot at Edgar, one of his followers stepping into the line of fire and taking the bolt in the chest. It was sucked into the vessel, as the other soul charged and fired off a shot of its own. Instead of trying to dodge the attack, Sam simply held his hand out and the green beam of light stopped within inches of his outstretched hand. Closing his hand into a fist, the green light dissipated into nothing. Edgar looked shocked at what he had just witnessed and let out a green blast himself, his being much larger and more powerful than his disciple's. This one was stopped as well, this time without Sam even lifting a hand.

Firing again, he tagged the other soul, sending it to join the others, before he set his sights on Edgar. The final soul, the mastermind behind them all, stood there frozen in place. His fear was palpable and the sense of impending defeat was visible on his features. He, after a long period of inaction, finally spoke. He said, "You have grown so powerful, Sam Oliver, I will give you that. I was right about you all along; you're like me, a god. Think about what you could do with your powers, those that you could help. We could help them together."

"Like you helped all those innocent people in Seattle last night?"

"That was unfortunate," replied the soul, trying to sound apologetic.

"Unfortunate isn't strong enough of a word for that, Edgar. People were injured and killed there, all because of you."

"Oh, like you're so blameless. They were hurt because of your reckless pursuit of me. They would have been in no danger if you had just backed off."

Sam had to force himself to calm back down after hearing that, keeping his voice as even as possible in his response. "No, I chased you because you were a danger to people. You were taking the homeless from the streets and sacrificing them in some made-up ritual. You're sick and you're beyond redemption; you're going back. I don't care if the Devil let you out, I don't care at all."

"Well," said Edgar, "that sounds pretty final then." He tensed slightly.

Sam could feel something coming in his direction from behind and extended his mind to stop it in mid-air. Looking back, he saw that it was one of the church pews. It dawned on him then that looking back had been a strategic error on his part and immediately turned back to Edgar. The soul was sending another pew at him and he only had the time to deflect it. The wood bench was sent up into the rafters, smacking into them, before coming back down to the floor where it shattered into splinters. The whole frame of the building shook violently from that and plaster and dust started to rain down on them. Charlie started crying louder than ever and Sam had to stop himself from running over there to comfort him.

Edgar started launching more church pews at him, trying to score a lucky hit. Sam deflected them as they came at him, using the pew he had stopped earlier as projectile of his own. Edgar managed to deflect that one, sending it crashing into the wall. The damage was rapidly taking its toll on the building and the frame was about to collapse. He used his mind to keep it propped up and sent a church pew that had been flying right at him back to its sender, sending him to the floor.

Sam walked up to Edgar and put his foot on the soul's chest. He aimed the crossbow directly at Edgar's face and he looked back up at Sam in wonderment.

"But I'm a god," was all the soul could say in that moment.

"No, you're not," replied Sam, pulling the trigger and capturing the last of the souls. The vessel began to get hot and glowed with an eerie red light. Before his eyes, it started to shrink in size, until it turned into nothing more than a key chain made to look like the crossbow. Sam pocketed it, before setting his sights on Charlie. The baby was no longer crying and was looking at Sam. He walked up to the baby's cage and opened it up. Scooping up the child, he held him close and made soft shushing noises. "It's okay, daddy's gotcha." The second he called himself daddy, Sam knew it to be the truth. It didn't matter how they were related biologically, Charlie was his son and Sam was his father.

He walked out of the church with Charlie safely in his arms, heading straight back to his car. When they had gotten a safe distance away, he released his mental grip on the building and it collapsed without preamble. Sam went about securing Charlie in his seat, quickly inspecting the baby for any harm. Satisfied that his boy was okay, he planted a gentle kiss on his brow and grabbed the pack of smokes he kept in his glove box. Taking one out, he lit it and sat on the ground with his back to the car. He let out the smoke and buried his head in his hands, tears now flowing out of him uncontrollably. Now that it was all over, he cried out all his anguish and his pain, letting go of that terrible burden. Everything caught up with him then and he slid helplessly to the ground where he curled up into the fetal position, unable and unwilling to stop his tears. Sam stayed there on the grass, sobbing and crying for a long time, letting it all out to finally see the light of day.