The Preacher

I feel I should point out that this story was completely written before the fabulous Dark Side Of The Moon aired on tv so any similarities are entirely coincidental.

Disclaimer: Don't own them, more's the pity.

Once again I would like to thank sjd for lending me her ears when I needed to have a rant and for looking over this for me.

Chapter Five

The relentless drip, drip, drip immediately to his left is what dragged Dean from the oblivion of unconsciousness. Fluttering lids slowly opened, leaving the aching hunter surveying his new surroundings and searching foggy memories to discover how he'd ended up here.

Vague memories of Bobby floated in and out of his consciousness before the reality of what had taken place slammed into him, sending his body catapulting upright, the pain from previous injuries only slowing him a little.

"It wasn't Bobby." He spoke as if to himself and jumped back in shock when a calm voice answered.

"No, it wasn't Bobby."

Dean squinted in the dim light and inched a couple of steps forward until finally he could see the outline of a body sitting on a chair in the far corner of the room.

"Who are you?

"You know very well who I am Dean, we have met."

As soon as he heard the words spoken in the calm sing song voice the pieces fell into place and Dean knew he was with the preacher.

"Where's my brother? If you've hurt him I swear to god you're gonna regret it." Dean advanced on the still unmoving figure.

"I wouldn't worry about your brother, he's safe for now, but worry not child, you will be seeing him soon enough."

"Will you stop talking in riddles and tell me what the hell I'm doin here." Dean growled, his patience wearing thin.

"You are here son, to atone for your sins."

"I'm gettin outta here right now you crazy bastard." Dean pushed all thoughts of what the preacher was capable of to the back of his mind, his only focus on getting back to his brother, in making sure Sam was safe and quickening his step advanced on the preacher, his hand sliding into his jacket pocket where he curled his fingers around the flask of holy water and inched the cap loose but before he had a chance to douse the spirit with the blessed liquid the air was knocked out of his body by an invisible assailant repeatedly attacking him with an unseen weapon.

Falling to the floor, blood spurting from his mouth Dean could only watch as the spirit of the preacher slowly walked towards him shaking his head as if in pity before simply fading from view but the blows continued to rain down on him, even when he curled into as tight a ball as he could the invisible assailant relentlessly pounded every possible part of his body it could reach, the thud as flesh met weapon reverberating around the dank prison, the snap of a bone and a crescendo of agony travelling across his torso told Dean that one of his ribs had finally given out and just when he thought his body would be unable to withstand any more a loud whistle sounded and the beating came to an abrupt end.

"Ohgodohgodohgod" he chanted as he slowly uncurled his beaten and battered body and attempted to stand, only making it as far as his knees before he was forced to admit defeat.

Kneeling in the centre of the room Dean squeezed his eyes closed for a couple of seconds as he tried to get his breathing under control before slowly inching them open and peering through the darkness to get his first real glimpse of the hell hole he'd landed in.

He already knew the floor was damp, could feel his clothes sticking to his skin but the putrid stench of blood was by far the one thing Dean was desperate to escape from having seen far too often people he cared about spilling the life sustaining fluid after suffering horrific injuries, his mind flashing back to the time he held a dying Sam in his arms as blood poured out of a fatal knife wound, as it soaked into his jacket until finally, his little brother's eyes slid closed and Sammy was gone.

Forcing the too painful thoughts from his mind Dean decided his best option of getting his bearings was to start at one end of the room and inch his way along the walls until he came to a door, 'coz there had to be one' he reasoned; so, on hands and knees he slowly and painstakingly crawled to the furthest corner of the room, ribs protesting his every movement, where he slowly inched forward, following the line of damp stone. Onward he went, stopping every few moments to bend forward in an effort to alleviate the pain in his chest before once again relentlessly continuing on his agonisingly slow journey.

As he inched along what he counted as the third wall his hand came up against something that definitely wasn't stone, it was cold, a little softer and was blocking his way.

Running his hand over the object Dean's heart sank as he realised what it was; a body, a very dead body which, he reasoned, is where the terrible smell originated from.

On further examination Dean was able to ascertain that the poor unfortunate had literally bled out, a gaping wound across the neck and multiple slashes to the chest had seen to that.

A gentle cough from behind had Dean stumbling backwards, nearly losing his balance altogether but was able to stabilise himself with blood sticky hands before he crashed the short distance to the floor.

"I see you've made the acquaintance of our previous guest, sadly he didn't survive to face trial, but rest assured Dean, you will not suffer the same fate, you will face up to your crimes and take the punishment meted out to you, whatever that may be." The preacher's voice held an element of excitement.

"You crazy sonovabitch, you killed some poor bastard in the name of your sick fucked up justice. I am so gonna enjoy sending you back to the stinking pit you crawled out of." Dean spat, his hatred of the preacher spiralling.

In the blink of an eye Dean felt himself catapulted backwards, his body pressed against the damp stone wall, the preacher's face inches from his own, the blue eyes icy cold and full of contempt "YOU" the preacher paused "do not have the right to speak to me, your superior, in such a manner" and then taking a step backwards the spirit lifted his arm and clicked his fingers as if summoning someone or something. "It is time to face up to your crimes" the preacher turned his head and issued an order to the shadowy figures standing in the background "Bring the accused to the courtroom.

0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

Stumbling backwards Sam quickly glanced to the opening of the cave in the distance.

"He's not there."

"What!" Sam brought his full attention back to the preacher on hearing the softly spoken words.

"Your brother, he's not there."

"Where is he?"

"He's in a holding cell until the time comes for him to face up to his crimes."

"Crimes? What crimes, what the hell are you talkin about?"

"Your brother is bad Sam, through and through and it's my job to see that he's held accountable for each and every crime he's committed over the years, it astounds me that he has evaded capture for so long." The preacher spoke as if the words he were saying were the most normal thing in the world.

"You are goin to tell me where my brother is and then you are going to let me go get him, Understand!" Sam spat.

"I admire your loyalty Sam, you're a good boy and I wouldn't expect anything less from you; but be honest with yourself, you don't really want him back, you know you want to live your own life, be free to do as you wish and we both know that with Dean around that's not going to happen, not now, not ever." The preacher stared intensely at Sam as he spoke.

"You're right about one thing, I am loyal to my brother, but what you don't seem to understand is I want my brother around, I choose to stay with him, I love my brother, don't you get it, he's my family and I want to be with him, I don't want to leave him behind, he's done more for me than any other person living or dead, so take me to him. NOW!" Sam advanced on the preacher.

"You protesteth too much Sam."

Frustration getting the better of him Sam lunged forward only to end up face first in the dirt as the preacher's form disappeared.

Scrambling to his feet he turned a full one eighty but there was no sign of the preacher or anyone else; he was all alone and had no idea where to start looking for his brother.

Deciding that his best bet was to head back to the cave, make sure Dean really wasn't there, that it wasn't a trick Sam turned but was stopped in his tracks by a heavy blow to the back of his head quickly followed by another across the middle of his back and then an invisible sharp weapon of some kind tore along his arm, blood immediately gushing from the wide slash as he fell. Instinctively rolling away from his unseen attacker Sam was unprepared for the blow across his midsection that knocked the air from his lungs and had him gasping in pain, a further blow to his right temple sent the youngest Winchester tumbling into the abyss of unconsciousness.

0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

No matter how hard he struggled to get free Dean couldn't break the grasp the two, for want of a better word he thought of them as creatures, neither human nor animal, one on either side, had on his arms as they dragged him out of his prison, along a dark corridor and out into the open air where the bright sunlight had him scrunching his eyes after being in the dark for what seemed to him like forever.

"Let go of me you fucking freaks." He growled but the creatures paid no heed, instead they continued on their path until they reached a large, high wooden structure surrounded by boulders.

By the time Dean had been dragged over the rough and jagged rocks his clothes were torn and bloodied and his breath was coming in sharp pants as the pain from his broken rib protested the rough treatment.

He was pushed to stand between two solid wooden posts, his guards maintaining their iron like grip on his arms even as they bound his wrists with a length of thick, rough rope.

Raising his head Dean looked at his new surroundings and couldn't help the shiver of fear creeping up his spine as he took in the raised platform opposite him, the preacher seated on a high wooden throne in the centre staring at him with a look of pure contempt lining his pale face.

Forcing his eyes away from his tormentor Dean slowly turned his head, first to the left and then to the right, stunned to see thousands upon thousands of spectators filing in to sit in row upon row of wooden benches, their faces and bodies having the same transparency of the preacher.

A gavel pounding against the hard surface of the desk in front of the preacher brought Dean's attention back around to the front as the spirits voice boomed it's welcome to the assembled onlookers.

"My people, it does my soul good to see so many of you here today to witness the trial of what must be one of the most abominable perpetrators of unprecedented evil it has been my misfortune to bring to justice.

Of one thing I can assure you all, this day will see an end to his lifelong spree of destruction. We shall hear first hand from many of his victims how he tortured and destroyed not only them but their poor innocent families also; but before we commence let me make you aware of exactly who we are dealing with here today. This, this specimen is the direct descendant of the very same man who destroyed the life of one of your very own brethren, his father was responsible for the premature death of Cyrus" a shocked gasp resounded from the onlookers "who as you all know was nearing the end of his time as one of our revered creatures of the woods before being given my blessing to become one of my most trusted servants. The death of Cyrus at the hands of John Winchester, a man who I am happy to inform you has repented his sins and paid the ultimate price for his actions in such a manner that he is now able to enjoy his eternity in a glorious peace, left his family homeless and forced to beg in order to survive. Cyrus's firstborn son has for some time now been studying under my guidance until now I have the pleasure of informing you all that he is ready to step into his father's shoes and become my right hand man," rapturous applause broke out "he has also been instrumental in bringing the accused before you this day, so, for his sake and in his father's memory let us pray that justice will be done. Let it begin."

The crowd roared and clapped as the preacher ended his speech.

0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

"Welcome back Sam, I'm sorry you had to suffer as you did a short time ago but I'm afraid it was unavoidable, you see, I needed to get you back here and I knew you wouldn't come willingly and besides you greatly upset my family with your actions, they are highly protective of me and as I doubt I would have been able to prevent them attacking you after you threatened me with harm I thought it best to let them get it out of their system, I knew they would not kill you as they know how important you are to me." The preacher's eyes never leaving Sam's as he spoke.

Blinking to clear blurry eyes and rubbing the side of his head Sam struggled to digest all that the preacher was saying and looked confusedly at the spirit before venturing a question.

"Where's my brother?"

"I've already told you Sam" the preacher glanced through the makeshift window, which was nothing more than a small circle roughly hacked out of the stone wall before bringing his gaze back to Sam "your brother is about to stand trial for his many crimes, in fact, I must leave you soon to go check on him and have him removed from the holding cell and into the courtroom where I shall preside over the proceedings."

Sam's blood ran cold at the thought of Dean being tried, convicted and then…

Refusing to let his mind so much as touch on the subject of what would happen to his brother if things went as far as that Sam returned his attention to the preacher and decided to try a diversionary tactic in the hope it would buy both he and Dean some more time.

"Why did you want me to come with you?"

"I had hoped you and I could work together, stand side by side in the fight against the evil that roams the world. With you by my side I would be able to leave these woods and take my good work further afield." The preacher replied, his face glowing with anticipation.

"Why do you need me to enable you to leave the woods?" Sam asked with trepidation.

"I cannot leave here unless I am invited by a living soul, not just any living soul, it must be a soul laced with the powers such as those which lay dormant within yours. Of course, there is always the option of using some vessel to take me out of here but for that I would need to be within moments of death which in turn would leave me in a weakened state for a time, something I think you will agree, is not a desirable option.

With my help Sam you could be great, I could teach you how to hone your skills to perfection. Together Sam, you and I would be an unstoppable force to be reckoned with by those like your brother who coast through life using and casting aside anyone who stands in the path of their destruction." The preacher's excitement rose to fever pitch as he put forth his plan to the incredulous young hunter.

"But for years and years you have been murdering innocent people."

"No Sam, no, I have been attempting to reconcile warring families, friends, whatever you want to call them but have been unable to make any one of those who pass through here see the error of their ways and have given each and every one of them a fair trial, I cannot help them if they are judged to be beyond redemption."

"You're a murdering bastard."

"I can understand your reservations Sam, I can understand the loyalty you feel towards your brother, I can even understand your repulsion at the fate many of the people who entered my homeland suffered so I will not take offence at your harsh judgement of me, instead as you will undoubtedly refuse to even consider the only route to saving your brother's life I shall take my leave and make my way to the courtroom where proceedings are about to get under way." The preacher rose and turned to leave.

"You're wastin your time; I will never go along with your plan." Sam's voice was little more than a whisper but the preachers words rebounded around his mind and he knew he'd have to ask, if there was at least a tiny chance he could do something to save his brother from whatever the preacher had in store for him then he had to know what it was although he was pretty certain it wouldn't be either easy or good for either him or Dean he wanted to hear it.

"Wait, what did you mean about saving my brother's life."

The preacher turned, a smirk curving his mouth as he once again took a step towards Sam.

"I thought that may get your attention."

"What. Did. You. Mean? Sam menacingly growled.

"Firstly Sam, I really would like you to change your attitude." The preacher's face was stern. "Now this is what you have to do…"

Sam listened horrified as the preacher laid out his plan and was left in no doubt that if he even so much as diverted a fraction from the course being given to him then Dean would never leave these woods be it alive or dead, although Sam knew that if he did what was being asked of him it would surely destroy his brother.

The preacher patted Sam's shoulder and turned to leave the room, pausing as he stepped through the entryway "I will leave you to your thoughts son and hope that you reach the correct decision in the time I will give you. Now I must be going, your brother awaits me."

With those words the preacher disappeared leaving Sam alone in the gloomy space to make a decision which would either kill his brother or destroy everything he'd ever believed in.

0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

"To begin your honour I would like to familiarise the court with the kind of person the accused is, to give an outline of his life so far in order that we can understand and base the judgement of this court on fact as opposed to hearsay." The booming voice of the pale, almost transparent figure striding backwards and forwards across the space between Dean and the crowd began.

"Firstly let me take you back to his childhood. Dean Winchester was born to loving parents who would have given the world for their first born child and showered him with love and affection, nothing too much trouble for the often demanding little boy, for four years he was the single most precious thing in their lives and then Mr and Mrs Winchester were blessed with another child, a baby brother for Dean and thought their lives were complete, so happy were they to have two beautiful little boys and heaped nothing but adoration upon them but Dean was, even then at the age of four, harbouring dark thoughts and planned to rid his family of what he saw as an unnecessary burden, baby Sammy had to go."

Dean listened with amazement as the voice continued to boom its own fabricated version of his early years and instinctively shouted his displeasure at the words.

"What the hell are you talking about you freak, where the hell d'you get this stuff." He struggled against the restraints holding him but did nothing more than rub the skin off his wrists as the harsh fibres of the rope refused to relinquish their hold.

Seconds later he was left gasping as searing, white hot agony engulfed him, could smell the unmistakeable and stomach churning aroma of burnt skin as the tip of a white hot iron bar was pressed against the taught flesh of his exposed upper arm, sliding through skin and the flesh beneath like butter through a knife, before being roughly twisted and wrenched out.

The crowd cheered and clapped as their afternoons entertainment heaved and wretched against the torture.

"Silence, silence." The gavel once again restored order to the proceedings as the preacher slammed it against the hard surface of his makeshift desk. "The accused will remain silent until asked to speak. Is that clear?"

Dean, still trying to regain his breath drew in as much air as his broken rib would allow and didn't respond to the preacher. Seconds later rough hands, razor sharp talons piercing the skin of his forehead grasped his short hair and pulled his head upright.

The preacher repeated his final question. "Is that clear? The accused will answer."

"M gonna kill you, you freak, gonna kill all of you." He gasped.

A blow to the back of his knees had Dean crying out in agony before the preacher declared that the proceedings continue.

"My fellow seekers of the good please do not let this man's threat of violence toward you be of any concern, I am confident that you will all give this poor misguided soul a fair trial and reach a verdict, once we have heard all of the evidence, that is true and just. Let the proceedings continue."

Dean struggled to raise his head as the softly spoken words of the witness now on the stand filtered through the haze his mind had become after the torture he'd been subject to.

"You are not serious." He muttered to himself as he listened to the damning words coming from someone he never in his wildest nightmares thought he would ever see or hear from again.

"I was just an innocent girl going about her daily life when I first came into contact with the accused. Our first meeting came when I met up with his brother in a bar, we hadn't seen each other for quite a time and were reacquainting when he" a trembling finger pointed towards Dean "he just jumped into our conversation and Sam, that's his brother, introduced us. I didn't really care much for the way he spoke to me and he kept making these silly hand gestures to his brother whenever my attention was diverted before literally dragging his brother outside and away from me. I have to make it clear to everyone that I was not interested in Sam romantically at all, I just wanted to continue my education, get a good job and make a successful life for myself, but that wasn't to be, if only I'd known what he was capable of," the girl dabbed at her eyes with a dainty white handkerchief before continuing "if I'd known that here was the man who would end my life and therefore my dreams I would have left town immediately but I had no reason to think he was anything other than a little jealous of the friendship between Sam and myself, in fact I felt kinda sorry for him, thought maybe he was lonely and I could probably be his friend also."

The striding, pale figure of what Dean could only assume was the one leading the prosecution's case turned to face the crowd once again before his booming voice rang out around the silent 'courtroom.'

"Here we have an innocent, sweet young girl who had the misfortune to become acquainted with the accused and paid the ultimate price for her generous nature. Before the witness continues I must warn you all that the details of her treatment at the hands of the monster before us" a long spindly finger pointed towards Dean "do not make for easy listening but I ask you to be strong, to ensure that justice is done."

Dean blinked several times to be sure he was seeing who he thought he was seeing and still did not believe that standing a short distance from him and fabricating a web of lies to the assembled court was none other than Meg, the very same Meg he and Sam had seen die, twice.

"My dear, are you ready to continue or would you like a few minutes to compose yourself?" The preacher's sympathetic voice, just loud enough for the crowd to hear, asked the weeping girl.

"No sir, I want to continue, I feel it's my duty to save any other poor girl from suffering the same fate as I did."

"You are very brave and rest assured; you will be rewarded." The preacher nodded to the prosecution to continue.

"Now Miss…"

"Please, call me Meg."

The man nodded "Meg, would you tell the court what happened the time the accused broke into your apartment?

"It wasn't really my apartment, I was just looking after the place for my father, he used it as a stopover when he was in town on business, he's a haulage contractor and has apartments such as these in many cities, anyway, I was there alone one evening when the accused and his brother arrived, Sam really didn't want to be there but Dean" she nodded in Dean's direction "threatened him, Sam seemed really afraid so went along with whatever his brother was planning. We had a few heated words and I asked them both to leave and that's when Dean grabbed a hold of my hair and dragged me across the floor to the window and after opening it simply tossed me out like I was nothing. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital, the whole of my body covered in bandages and in so much pain that the doctors had to keep me sedated for three weeks before I was able to cope with my injuries. During the first day that I was awake Sam came to visit me, he said he'd begged his brother not to do it but Dean had been adamant, said I was evil and wanted to hurt his family, I didn't even know his family, the only two Winchesters I had ever met were Sam and Dean.

After a long spell in the hospital I was finally allowed home, my parents collected me and for the following months took care of me until I was finally able to return to school, both they and my little sister were so happy to have me back, we were a family again.

Life was good until one afternoon, as I left the library after a study session I was grabbed and bundled into a massive black car and taken to some kind of salvage yard where I was tied to a chair and tortured until finally my body could take no more and I died, my soul unable to cross over into a restful afterlife until the man who had robbed me of a future was brought to justice. When I was called upon by you sir" Meg looked towards the preacher "I did not hesitate to come and help put an end to his reign of brutal terror." Meg lowered her eyes as she finished speaking.

"Thank you, you have been very brave, you may now choose a punishment for the accused." The prosecutor finished.

Dean watched as a box was held in front of Meg, her hand dipping inside only to reappear seconds later with a small piece of wood.

"Would you read aloud the punishment you have chosen for the accused?"

"Fire."

"The court will recess whilst the accused faces the punishment chosen for him by this sweet, innocent young girl whose life was cruelly cut short due to his obvious lust for blood. I will leave you all to enjoy the spectacle and return shortly." The preacher rose and stepped from the platform taking him out of Dean's line of vision.

The crowd cheered and clapped as Dean renewed his struggles to break free of the restraints holding him, the sight of a figure approaching carrying a flaming torch filling him with terror.

The terrified hunter could only watch as the length of rope at the end of which was his left hand was set alight, the flame creeping steadily closer, the heat becoming more intense the closer it got to his tethered appendage until the hungry flames licked at his flesh before savagely devouring it.

Unable to escape Dean writhed in pain, agonised grunts turned into pitiful cries of agony as the crowd whooped with joy at seeing their prey suffer.

0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

T.B.C.

Thanks for reading.