All right. I'm glad that people are interested in this, seeing how long it took me to write it :)
Chapter 3
Everybody's Watching You Now
"That's impossible." He was across the room, shoving the demon against the wall, pressing the blade of the knife against its neck before the damned thing could even blink.
"Really?"
"My brother's dead. He's in Hell."
"Been there, done that, broke out."
Sam pushed the thing farther into the wall. "You shut up. You're not him."
"Then why haven't you killed me?" The demon glanced down at the blade before looking back up into Sam's eyes. "If I'm really such a big, bad, black-eyed bastard, I should be dead now, right? But you can't do it because you're not sure."
The hunter squared himself up against the accusation, curling his lips back and snarling at the creature that was currently at his mercy. "I told you to shut up."
The demon smirked, and for a moment Sam was hit with such a wave of déjà vu that his grip on it nearly faltered. That expression, the glint in the eyes, it was if he were staring at his brother again.
"Come on, Sammy-"
That brought him back to his senses. "Don't call me that."
"All right, all right. Sam, then. Come on. Let's just take a breather and talk about this."
"There's nothing for you to talk about. Just tell me where we are."
"About twenty miles outside of Cold Oak."
Sam narrowed his eyes. "That's impossible. This isn't South Dakota."
"Oh, it is," the demon said, "but I wouldn't expect you to recognize it. It's been so long."
He reapplied the force that he'd originally put on the demon, pushing it further back into peeling wallpaper and cracking plaster. "What the Hell are you talking about?"
"How long's your brother been dead?"
"That's none of your business."
The demon raised his head a bit, just a simple upward tilt of the chin, his now-brown eyes glinting in the light spilling through the cracks in-between the boards on the window. "Two years, huh?"
"Get outta my head."
The thing claiming to be Dean shook his head. "How'd you get here, Sam?"
"Again, none of your business."
That slight cock of the chin again. "Time travel. Great. I thought you knew enough not to mess with crap like that. Dad always said-"
"You're not him!"
To his surprise, the demon actually flinched at the remark, his mouth turning down in sadness. "You have no idea what's going on, do you? You just got dumped here outta the time stream."
"I know enough. I know it's my job to kill things like you."
"But you still won't do it. You're as scared and confused as you'll let yourself be. You want answers, and you know I can give 'em to you."
"Demons lie."
"Brothers don't. And you've gotta believe me, Sammy."
He shook his head. "You can't be Dean. He's dead. He's in Hell. He's only been gone two years. It's gotta take longer than that."
"Try twenty."
"What?"
The demon did its best to shrug while being held against the wall. "Well, technically, fifteen. I made a break when the second Gate opened."
"You trying to tell me that I… I went… forward?"
"Weirder things have been known to happen."
And for a moment, he almost believed the damned thing. For a moment, it was like he was talking to his brother, working on a case. But he paused, and it gave him that same invading look, and he remembered. He remembered as blood began to drip slowly from the creature's nose, as its eyes regained that unholy darkness.
"You don't believe me?" it said, eyes narrowed, "fine. But I can prove it. Turn on the TV."
Sam stared at the thing as its eyes slid back to their normal brown. TV. That, at least, was a source that he could trust. Slowly, he backed away from the demon, keeping the knife trained on it, his eyes never leaving its stolen form as the boy slumped from the wall and sat down on the bed.
In one quick movement, Sam swept up the remote and turned so that he could see both the TV screen and the demon that sat hunched over on the bed. He pointed the remote and turned the set on, watching as static lit up the screen. He hit the button to change the channel, but found the same thing. Every channel, every station, static blared. He glared at the demon.
"Channel 1246," the monster said. "Trust me."
Sam didn't, but he changed the channel anyway. He was surprised to see the static disappear to be replaced by a shadowy figure sitting behind what appeared to be an old news desk. He turned up the volume.
"If you're just tuning in," the man hidden in the shadows was saying, "I'm here to report that The Resistance has lost two of its members this weekend. Lucas and Andrea Barr were last heard from just south of Paris, Texas. They will be missed dearly."
Sam turned to the demon. "What's he talking about?"
"Hunt gone wrong."
"They were killed?" Suddenly, his heart hurt. It had been years since he'd seen either of the remaining members of the Barr family. Hell, he could barely even remember them. But he remembered what they'd done to Dean, what that little mute boy had brought out in him, and he'd silently thanked the kid for the chance to see part of his big brother that he'd never been able to glimpse before. They couldn't be dead.
The demon shook its stolen head. "Not dead. Worse."
Sam turned back to the television, where the shadowed reporter was finishing the announcement. "That being said," the hidden figure continued, "they should be avoided at all cost. Do not trust them. Again, if you're just tuning in, the Barr family has been compromised. If you come into contact with them, run if an exorcism is deemed impossible. I repeat, the Barr family has been compromised."
Sam looked back at the demon as if seeing it- him- for the first time. A fate worse than death, a fate that he had passed to the boy he was possessing. Such a hypocrite.
Static began washing over the screen, pulling Sam from his thoughts as what was apparently a news report ended. "This is Ben Braeden with your daily Resistance update, nine a.m., April twenty-fourth, 2028. Stay safe out there, guys. We're counting on you."
The screen became completely engulfed in static as Sam lifted the remote in his quickly numbing hand and turned off the television. He turned to the demon, too scared to let himself hope again, to let himself feel, but knowing that it was all about to come bursting through the floodgates anyway. He was so sure this time, how could it not?
"Dean?"
The man on the bed smiled. "Yeah?"
"What the Hell happened?"