Apparitions and Ailments
Chapter 5
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Disclaimer: See chapter 1.
A/N: Sorry about the cliffhanger ending in the last chapter, but it was a logical place to end. I hope this makes up for it a little bit. Thanks again for the feedback; I really do appreciate it and will try to get back to everyone today.
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In victory one does not understand the horror of war. It is only in the cold chill of defeat that it is brought home to you Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
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This time when Sam's eyes opened, he was in a brightly lit room. It was almost too intense for him to see clearly.
"Dad?" he called.
There was no response. He surveyed his surroundings. The walls were white, as was the floor on which he sat. The room was small and completely square; it held no furniture and he saw no doors or windows.
"Hello?" Sam called as he stood and walked around the small room. "Hello!"
Hey. What's up?
Sam whirled around at the voice. He didn't recognize the body he saw in front of him, but he knew the yellow eyes.
"You," Sam nearly hissed.
Nice to see you again, Sammy. I hear you haven't been feeling well.
"What do you want?"
The demon pointed a finger at him and Sam collapsed to the floor, his side burning. "What are you doing?"
Proving your brother's theory. I can do whatever I want and neither one of you can stop it.
Sam hugged himself, trying to move into a sitting position. He couldn't ever remember being in this much pain.
You know what's really cool? I can do this to you when you're in the real world, for lack of a better term. You're mine, Sammy. You and your brother better get used to that. I can take you whenever I want – maybe even put you with your father.
"Where is my father?"
In a hell of his own making.
Suddenly the pain in his side stopped and Sam finally managed to sit up. His breath was still coming in gasps.
He wasn't quite honest with you, but then again, your father was often less than honest with you. He knew what your fate would be a long time ago and he didn't tell you, did he? No, of course he didn't. And he didn't tell your big brother, either. Why wouldn't he tell his perfect little soldier, do ya think?
Sam glared at the demon.
Isn't that what you think of your brother? That he was John's perfect little soldier? His perfect son? And what about you? Were you just a huge disappointment? You never wanted to be a hunter, did you, Sammy? You wanted to just be a real boy and not your daddy's Pinocchio.
The demon looked at him, his eyes gleeful.
I'm going to take you, Sammy. I'm going to make you my little Pinocchio because I can. I set this all in motion a long time ago when I killed your mother and, while I'm not exactly on schedule, I'm still in control. I have the Colt and I have your father. You and Dean? You're alone and you don't have a clue of what to do next.
Sam cried out in pain as the demon pointed at him again. This time, his head felt like it was going to explode and the nausea he'd been feeling for days threatened to overwhelm him.
Your father was a huge pain in my ass. He wasn't quite what I expected; I figured he'd keep being the all-American dad, but he surprised me by becoming a hunter. He was even more skillful than most. And he trained Dean to be just as big a pain in my ass. So while my ultimate goal is to take you and make you what you should have been all along, I'm gonna get a kick out of making Dean suffer.
Sam moaned as he struggled to maintain control, but he knew he was going to lose. He crawled painfully to a corner of the room and threw up, his body retching until there was nothing left. He moved away from the mess, his head throbbing and still feeling sick. He was cold, but hot at the same time, and he lay on the floor, curling into a ball.
Your mother? Your pretty little girlfriend? They got in my way. I should have killed Dean when I killed your mother. I could have, but I didn't know what he would become and I thought he might be helpful. I could have killed him when I took Jessica, but by then, I was enjoying his pain. And it's even better now than it was then. He's just one big glob of emotion. He's on the edge, you know? I'll have you and he'll have to fight you. That's going to be delicious.
The demon laughed and sent Sam into another wave of pain.
Dean rested a hand on his brother's chest, trying to keep him still. His breathing was shallow and a there was a sheen of sweat on his skin. Bobby had called the tattoo artist as soon as Sam passed out and he was already on his way to the salvage yard.
"Bobby, please," Dean said with tears in his eyes. "Isn't there something we can do?"
"Hold on," the older man said as he rummaged through a desk drawer. Finding a pen, he rushed over to the couch. "Hold his arm out."
Dean did as he was told. "What are you doing?"
"The tattoo with the special materials will be better, but in the meantime, I'm going to draw the symbol on his skin. Hold him still."
"Will this bring him back?"
"I don't know, but it won't hurt."
Sam moaned and then convulsed when Bobby finished drawing the symbol. Dean held his hand and caressed his hair. "Come on, Sammy. Fight that son of a bitch and come back to me."
Bobby didn't like the shaking of Dean's voice or the wild look in his eyes. As for Sam, he knew there was only so much a human body could take and since they weren't completely certain of the demon's intentions, there was no way to gauge how far it would try to push Sam. He knew the symbol would provide protection and would keep the demon from taking Sam, but he didn't know if it would have any affect when he was already with the thing.
Dean cringed when his brother moaned; Bobby put a hand on his shoulder.
"Bobby?" Dean whispered as he squeezed Sam's hand. "What if he's sick? What if this isn't the demon?"
The older hunter had considered that already, but didn't have an answer for Dean.
"Do you want to get a doctor involved?"
"Did someone say doctor?"
Dean and Bobby whirled around at the unexpected voice behind them. It was a woman Bobby didn't recognize.
"What the --?" Dean began.
She looked at him with coal black eyes and he felt himself being torn from his brother and tossed across the room. He grunted as his back hit the wall and he slid down to the floor.
Bobby ran toward the nearest hidden container of holy water, but he wasn't fast enough. She looked toward him and he, too, was thrown against a wall. Stunned, he watched her walk into the kitchen and return a moment later with a large knife; he was sure what she intended to do. Bobby knew any number of exorcisms and could recite them without aid of a book. He began to quietly chant a simple incantation that might not get rid of the demon inside the woman, but would render it helpless. Unless, of course, it had burned the binding symbol into her skin.
Dean shook his head to clear the cobwebs. He saw Bobby's lips moving and guessed what he was doing. Despite the pain he felt, Dean forced himself to stand and move carefully toward the opposite side of the room. The demon looked at him, but continued to Sam's side. Dean recognized the woman as Dr. Sharp, who had admitted Sam to the hospital days before. He remembered the strange look that had passed over her face during one of their conversations about Sam, but it never occurred to him she was part of the demon's plan.
He saw his brother convulse again and caught Bobby nod toward the shelf next to him. The demon wasn't paying attention to Dean at all; she stood over Sam and reached for his arm. Dean saw the glint of the knife blade in her hand just before he saw the container of holy water Bobby had been gesturing toward. Dean was in pain, but he ignored it and reached for the bottle and quietly opened it. Just as the demon-possessed doctor started to cut his brother's arm, Dean rushed forward and sprayed her with the holy water. Burning and in pain, she turned toward Dean with the knife in front of her. Moving more quickly than he thought he could, Dean kicked the knife from her hand and Bobby grabbed it as the blade hit the floor. Once again, the demon shoved Dean into a wall, but not before Bobby doused it with holy water.
Between the two of them, they managed to somehow maneuver the demon to the newly repaired devil's trap on Bobby's living room ceiling. Unable to get out from under it, the demon began to howl.
"Dean!" Bobby yelled as the younger man threw himself at the demon. He pinned her to the floor and called for Bobby to continue with the exorcism as Sam moaned pitifully on the couch.
"It wasn't working," Bobby explained. "Look for the binding symbol; the same one Sam had on his arm when he was possessed."
Dean looked for the symbol as Bobby grabbed another supply of holy water. The demon continued to scream, but frustrated and at the end of his rope, Dean hit the doctor in the face with his closed fist. Her head rolling to the side, the demon was silenced.
"I don't see the symbol!"
Bobby covered the doctor's body with holy water and began to recite a more powerful exorcism. With the body unresponsive, Dean headed to his brother. He had barely moved a foot when he and Bobby were both blown backward as the black smoke, indicative of a demon's departure, escaped from the doctor's mouth a moment later.
Freed of the demon, but still unconscious, the doctor needed to be taken care of. Bobby moved to her side as Dean covered the distance to his brother.
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The yellow-eyed demon knew what happened at the salvage yard as soon as it was over and angrily kicked at Sam's already battered body. Since they didn't physically occupy the same space, there was no actual contact, but at the same time, he sent Sam into another fit of pain. Sam rolled onto his back crying out.
I may have to deal with your brother sooner than I planned if he keeps this up.
Sam barely had a handle on what was going on around him and he instinctively cowered from the sudden wail and rush of wind in the room. He opened his eyes just as his father seemed to appear from nowhere. Sam tried to call for him, but couldn't force any sound from his lips. He found it difficult to follow the action, but Sam watched his father attack the demon. Even if he hadn't been on the brink of unconsciousness, the movement would have been too fast for him to comprehend. Once the entities made contact, they formed a large ball of light that extinguished suddenly.
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"Dean?"
Sam's voice was low, but Dean heard him clearly and grasped his outstretched hand. "Right here, Sammy."
"Dad –"
"What about Dad?"
"Demon –" Sam's voice was shaking.
"It's okay, Sam. Just relax."
Dean was on his knees next to the couch. He held Sam's hand with one of his own and his other arm was wrapped around his midsection. Dean suspected he had at least some bruised ribs and was desperately trying to ignore the pain. There was no way to position himself comfortably and still be within Sam's line of vision.
"Dad went after the demon – both gone."
"Gone?" Dean whispered.
"Like Mom in Lawrence; with the poltergeist."
"Are you saying Dad's spirit is gone? The demon is gone?"
"I don't know," Sam said, looking into his brother's eyes.
Dean blinked away tears.
"You're hurt," Sam breathed.
"I'm fine," Dean insisted. "What about you?"
Sam nodded, his eyes falling shut.
A moment later, Dean felt a hand on his shoulder and he assumed it was Bobby.
"Boys."
Dean jerked around at the sound of his father's voice. He leaned back against the couch and didn't see as his brother's eyes fly open.
"Dad," Dean breathed.
"I can't stay long," John said. "I'm kind of borrowed time as it is. I needed to make sure you two were okay."
"How are you here?" Dean asked.
John knelt down, a hand on each of his sons. "I don't have time to explain that, Dean. You have to know that this isn't over yet, but you have time to regroup. The demon won't be coming after you for a while."
"Dad," Sam put a trembling hand on his father's. "I saw –"
"I know, Sammy, but don't worry, I'm okay."
"Are you really?" Dean asked.
John smiled at him. "Yeah. And I'll be better now. But you two have to be diligent and take care of each other. The demon isn't going to give up. Especially not now."
The brothers watched as John took the Colt, the only weapon that could kill the demon, from the waist band of his jeans. He handed it to Dean.
"How –" Dean looked him wide-eyed.
John only smiled at him. "Take care of it. Remember, there's only one bullet left."
"John."
He turned at the sound of his friend's voice. "Hey, Bobby. You gonna fill me with buckshot?"
The hunter smiled. "Not this time."
John looked back to Sam and Dean. He didn't see two men in their twenties in front of him, he saw his children; the children that he and Mary wanted so badly and were so happy to have. He didn't want to leave them, but he knew he had taken a chance to come to them now. "I have to go, boys. Remember what I said and pay attention to the things around you. Don't lose your focus and, above all, take care of yourselves."
"Don't go," Dean said, his voice cracking.
"I have to, son." he cupped Dean's face. "I'm proud of you, you know that? And I'm sorry I left you with this –"
"Why did you do it, Dad? Why did you make a deal –"
"So you could live, Dean. Your whole life is ahead of you and I want you to live it. Don't give everything up for the hunt like I did." John's thumb wiped at a tear on Dean's face. "I love you, son."
"I love you, too, Dad. I miss you."
"I'm always with you," John looked at Sam. "And you. Sammy, we fight like cats and dogs, but you're my son and I love you. Don't you ever forget that."
Sam smiled and nodded, tears springing into his eyes.
John leaned forward and gently kissed the forehead of each of his sons. Despite Dean's strong grip on his sleeve, John pulled away and stood up. He called Bobby's name, but kept eye contact with Sam and Dean.
"Yeah, John?" Bobby's voice was filled with emotion.
John turned around. "Thank you for helping my boys."
Bobby only nodded.
John took one more look at his sons and, with tears in his eyes, headed toward the door. Dean scrambled to his feet, ignoring the burning of his ribs, but John disappeared before he could reach him.
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In physical pain and devastated by losing his father all over again, Dean collapsed to the floor. Bobby ran to his side, telling Sam to stay on the couch. Sam felt dizzy and his body ached like he had endured an actual beating, but he couldn't be separated from his brother right now, not even by a few feet. He sat on the floor with Dean and cradled his head on his lap, looking at Bobby pleadingly.
"He's gonna be okay, Sam" Bobby assessed Dean's injuries with a quick examination. "Stay with him."
"Where are you going?"
"To get some supplies from the bathroom."
"Dean," Sam held fast to his brother. "Come on, man."
"Dad –"
"It's Sam, Dean. Dad isn't here. Open your eyes for me."
Dean's eyes fluttered open; he looked at his brother and tried to sit up.
"Hold on; just stay where you are." Sam held him down gently.
"Are you hurt?" Dean asked.
Sam smiled to himself. True to form, Dean was more worried about him than he was about himself. "I'm all right. Not great, but all right."
"Was Dad really here?"
"Yeah, he was." Sam's voice cracked as he spoke. "He couldn't stay, but Dean, I'm here. I'm here, okay?"
Dean tried to blink away tears, but there were too many of them. He closed his eyes and let himself feel comfortable in his brother's arms.
When Bobby came back to the living room, Sam watched as he treated Dean's injuries, including taping his ribs. He was a little worried that Dean didn't protest any of it, but was glad his injuries were being taken care of. They moved Dean to the bedroom where Bobby turned his attention to Sam. Once both of the brothers were more comfortable, Sam saw Bobby settle in a corner of the room.
"Bobby?"
"Yeah, Sam?"
"You okay?"
"Yeah, but I think I'll just sit here a bit; until you two are sleeping."
Sam didn't think he'd be able to fall asleep, but as he watched his brother, his eyes closed.
TBC