Chapt.2 Without Sin
I hadn't originally intended to make this a multi-chapter fic. It was going to be a one shot and I was stickin' to my guns on that point, I've got two other multifics waiting to be finished and I was not, absolutely not, going to start a third. But then came the reviews, and there were readers out here that really liked this and asked if I could please…please expand on it. Well, I'm a craven sucker for praise so I thought about it; and then I had this dream. It was all laid out like a film in fast forward and I can barely remember all the important parts but it resolved the whole story line of the show! So how could I say no to that?
As usual: I don't own 'em, just love 'em and wished ta 'ell I worked for Kripke.
The next day Dean balked at talking to Father Mick again.
"What's the point Bobby? Dean demanded as he sat at the kitchen table, his back rigid in defiance. Sam sat opposite his brother and sighed…again. They'd been at it for what seemed like hours. His brother and Bobby going over the same stuff again and again. And Dean wouldn't listen. Sam suddenly became aware of what it must have been like for Dean when he watched the yelling matches between his father and him. Helpless, torn and frustrated that the two people he loved most in this world were at odds with each other.
"The point IS that you're in a whole new ball game now and you better learn the new rules!" Bobby said hotly. ('Course even in his normal growl of a voice Bobby sounded like he was fixin' to fight.)
"Well, from what I can see about THE rules it means that I'm not in the game at ALL! I mean how much help can I be just sitting around stirrin' my finger in the tub making batch after batch of Holy water, Huh?" Dean yelled back.
But there was a look of pleading for an answer from Dean's wide eyes betrayed the fear he felt.
Bobby saw that very rare expression on Dean's face and spoke more softly to the man in the chair before him, "Look, all I'm sayin' is that we go over there and find out what the strengths and limitations of this… …this…'grace' for lack of a better word are. You know from what your Daddy and I taught you that the first thing you gotta do is familiarize yourself with all the weaponry, become proficient with each tool you need for the hunt. And you gotta admit this is a tool we can use to fight back. But you're not familiar with it; you don't know a thing about its strengths or weaknesses. And that lack of knowledge could get you killed.
Dean sighed and his shoulders slumped a little as he looked down at the floor. He was considering it.
Sam jumped in then. "What if, it turns out you can do more? Wouldn't it be worth listening to him just to find out how to keep this trait going long enough to find out you can do more?"
Dean looked up at his bothers worried face. Sam's eyes were all big and dewy and just beggin' to be given half the chance to be listened to. Then Dean glanced at Bobby standing with his arms crossed over his barrel of a chest. Dean knew that 'you know I'm right boy' stance all too well.
He gave out a deep sigh. "Alright, I suppose it wouldn't hurt just to get more Intel on this" he said as he put his elbows up on the table and rested his weary forehead in his hands.
Bobby grabbed up the skillet and broke the tension by asking, "So do you want me to make animal shapes for your pancakes?"
Sam sniggered and the air was suddenly much lighter in Bobby's kitchen.
"Bite me, both of ya" Dean said to the table.
Bobby looked to Sam and said, "I'll take his ass 'cause I've tenderized it enough over the years with my boot" and he turned to make the griddlecakes.
"What, so that means I get sloppy seconds?" Sam asked in mock anger.
"Just a freaking riot you two!" Dean growled and looked up to see both smiles. He shook his head his own smirk forming, God, he was glad he was back!
wWwWw
Sam drove them over to the motel where Missouri and Father Mick were. Dean sat at his side in the passenger seat and Bobby was in the back.
It was odd having Dean the passenger in his own car. That's how Sam still thought of it, as Dean's car. During the months while Dean was…gone Sam kept thinking of it as Dean's. That he was just taking care of it till his brother got back…from…he cut the thought off there. He always did, he could never quite bring himself to accept the thought that Dean might never come back, that he was being held…hurt….captive for possibly eternity; so the car became a sort of shrine. A tangible link to his brother's life and the promise of his return.
And now he felt, what was this feeling? Nervous? That his brother was sitting beside him, watching him drive HIS car, his baby. Sam had lovingly polished the car every week while his brother's been 'away' so when Dean had run his hand over the shiny black paint job, and said, "She looks good Sammy". That one comment meant the world to him. Hav'n his brother back, hav'n his praise at keep'n his baby ready for him. It almost cost Sam a sob, but he'd turned away and swallowed just in time. No chick flick moments here! No sir. Not gonna happen.
But Sam couldn't help but feel a little nervous still at the subtle scrutiny his brother gave every detail of his driving and he couldn't wait for the time when Dean would take his rightful place behind the wheel and it would feel more normal about his brother being back.
wWwWw
At the Motel Father Mick met them at the door. Missouri had come over before and was setting up the coffee and the Danishes 'cause she knew the boys could always eat.
Father Mick began by saying, "Well, I suppose you're here to find out more about the maintenance of Deans condition." And he passed out three printouts detailing the sins of the body, the mind, the heart and the soul. Some of the text was right out of the earliest councils the church had convened on the nature of sin and how it separates the soul from a state of heavenly being.
It was everything Dean didn't want to hear. And so the meeting went about as good as could be expected. Bobby asked every question under the sun to clarify the 'Dos and Don'ts' but the gist was that to safeguard Dean's special status the older Winchester would just about have to live in a monastery.
"Well, this is not gonna friggin' work." Dean said in a voice loud enough to stop all the debate. "I can't be on a hunt in the middle of hand to hand combat with a demon and have to worry about whether I crossed some metaphysical line because shooting it with rock salt on a Sunday will get me cut from the God squad."
Missouri stood up and moved toward him. By the look on her face Dean was getting ready to flinch. She moved briskly and put her hand on his but then something changed in her demeanor. She looked into Dean's eyes with alarm and spoke, "Child, you should leave now."
The Father began to sputter against it but Missouri held up her hand and said, "What that boy has go' in on is bigger than you or I can understand right now, any decision he makes about how he handles this gift has got to be his own, in order for things to work out as they should, it's got to be from his own heart."
The Father bowed his head and let out a great sigh but didn't try to stop them from leaving.
Missouri looked sadly into Dean's eyes, and gave his hand a squeeze. "Dark forces are swirling around you and your brother Dean, now more than ever, you take care of each other."
"I will ma'am' Dean looked like he would have preferred her anger than this bit of news and he swallowed to moisten his suddenly dry throat then said, "Sam, we're outta here."
Sam went over to help his brother out of the chair and Bobby pushed himself off the wall he'd been leaning on to open the door for the boys. He nodded once to their hosts inside the motel room then closed the door behind and headed toward the car after the brothers.
They didn't notice the older man with the cane that was standing beside the car parked next to theirs. But they should have. As Sam and Dean approached the Impala's passenger side door he stuck. He swung the cane and it brutally connected with Sam's head and he went down, his limp weight carrying Dean down with him. Then the man leapt upon Sam and began to viciously throttle the unconscious man's neck. Dean struggled back up and attempted to pull the man off his brother but was tossed away with one mighty swing of the older man's arm. He's possessed! Thought Dean as he landed hard away from the fight. Bobby rounded the back of the Impala with his trusty bowie knife and the demon swung around grabbed the wrist with the knife and landed an upper cut on Bobby's jaw that laid him out cold. Dean made it back over just in time for the demon to stab him in the side with Bobby's knife; but as he fell he kicked his foot up and knocked the knife out of the Demons hand. The demon didn't care about loosing the knife he just turned back to Sam and grabbing the unconscious man by the throat began to squeeze the life out of him .
Father Mick opened the door to the motel to see what all the commotion was about and he and Missouri witnessed Bobby push himself up off the ground, blood tailing down from his lip, pick up a huge knife and stab it into the back of a man who was choking Sam to death.
Suddenly the demon leapt back roaring in pain. He spun around to see the man he'd knocked out standing on unsteady legs a look of fierceness blazing in his eyes. The demon began to flash bursts of light from within as its world darkened and then it fell forward in a lump on the ground with Bobby's knife sticking out of its back. Bobby moved to check Sam who was gasping for air. Then they heard the moan. "Dean!" Sam's ruined voice croaked.
Father Mick ran over to help Bobby inspect the prone and bleeding Winchester. Missouri was helping Sam stand up. "Dean!" Sam croaked again pulling away from Missouri's fussin'
Bobby barked out," Sam get the med kit outta the car, Father help me lift Dean we gotta git him inside, see how bad this is, Missouri round up some towels I need to clean his wound!"
Everyone shifted from shock to duty and Dean was gently laid out on Father Mick's bed he was in a semi conscious state and moaning softly. Bobby and Sam both knew their biggest problem would be to stop the blood loss and keep his body from going into shock. Bobby gently wrestled the limp man out of his shirt and used the towels Missouri handed him to cleanup the wound. It was a deep puncture just above his left hip and beneath his ribcage. Bobby let out a sigh of relief as he splashed the Holy water on it and probed its depths. 'Didn't nick no major blood vessel, or bowel or kidney so I guess you could say he got lucky. But I'll need to stitch it shut and we can use the derma adhesive to close the wound and then I think butterfly it till it heals."
Then Bobby looked up to Sam who stood by the bed holding his breath. "You think you can drive?" Bobby asked the young hunter.
"Yeah, I think so. " Sam responded warily.
"Boy, don't tell me you can if you can't!" Bobby snapped at him. "You got conked pretty hard on the head, I heard the hollow clunk all the way over ta the other side of the car. How many fingers am I holdin' up?" And the older hunter tested Sam's eyes for concussion.
"Three Bobby, man I'm alright to drive" Sam replied shortly.
"Good, you and the Father go take care of the body while I patch up your brother." And Bobby fished the suturing needle out of the kit.
Sam moved past Missouri to the bathroom and ripped the shower curtain off its pole, bundled it under his arm and striding past Father Mick said a brief "Come on" to the priest.
The Father looked to Missouri who gave him a firm nod and then he rushed out the door after Sam.
Sam had spread the plastic sheet out next to the body and had begun laboriously rolling the dead man up in it. The Father stood there a moment not sure what to do.
"Anytime you want to pitch in and help push Padre it would sure be appreciated," said Sam over his shoulder as he huffed to roll the body over one more time.
Father Michelson had an epiphany in that moment.
Until then he had never encountered the kind of relentless evil these boys fought on a daily basis. The attack had been so sudden and out of nowhere that it just as well could have been his own body that Sam was about to enfold in a shower curtain. But it wasn't. The good guys had won this one. The poor bastard in the plastic sheet, no one knows. Just some innocent bystander that got caught up in this war, this brutal unforgiving war. And the best defense the world had lay bleeding on his bed right now while his brother was rapidly destroying evidence of a murder. And so it dawned on him that the one good thing that he can do right now is give this poor unnamed man a decent burial and pray for his soul. Pray for all their souls.
So the Father dropped to his knees and began pushing the body over and over till it was all covered up. Sam and he loaded the dead man into the back seat of the Impala and they headed out of town to a secluded spot where they salted and burned the body and the Father said his prayers.
On the ride back to the motel Sam was silent. The priest that sat beside him was lost in his own haunted thoughts about what just took place and his unexpected role in it. The thoughts that bothered Sam were how the demon died.
wWwWw
Back at the motel Missouri filled the role of prep nurse to Bobby's surgeon as Dean got another scar to add to his collection. Dean had thankfully remained unconscious for the worst of it and was just beginning to rouse as Bobby pressed the last butterfly bandage in place.
Dean hissed in pain as he tried to move and his hip flamed up alike a gout of fire. Then"OW!" as Bobby swatted his hand away from the freshly butterflyed wound.
"What the hell Bobby?" Dean blinked his eyes open and looked blurrily around the room. Didn't they just leave here? Pain! Sharp, piercing… "M'side feels like I got.."
"Stabbed," Bobby supplied. "You did, a demon possessed codger with a cane just took us all down like he was scything the lawn."
Dean was awake now, eyes wide open. "Sam?"
"He's fine, got a lump on his head and his voice is a little horse but I killed the demon before he could do any worse to him." said Bobby in a very flat reply.
As if on cue the low rumble of the arriving Impala and the protesting squeaks of her doors opening heralded his bothers return. Two doors slammed shut and moments later the tall familiar form of his bother stood in the door to the motel. Behind him, Father Mick followed and closed the door. But Dean's exclamation stopped them all in their tracks.
"You KILLED the demon?" Dean said in surprise.
"Yep, with this knife." Bobby said holding up his old bowie knife. It was the same style Dean kept under his pillow at night-for precaution. But there was nothing special about it other than it's intimidating size.
"You get another knife like Ruby's?" Sam asked.
"Nope, this is the same old blade I've had for years, it couldn't have killed a demon no matter how many times I stabbed at it-- until this fight."
There's something wrong Dean thought. Bobby wasn't acting like he was happy. Not that Bobby's the jumping around shoutin' kind of guy when he is, but you tangle with a demon basically unarmed and you live and it dies; you should be happy.
Dean looked into the serious eyes of the man sitting on the bed next to him and he almost didn't want to ask, "So what made it so you could kill a demon this time Bobby?"
"See that stain on the blade?" Bobby asked Dean.
"The black?" Dean questioned.
"No, the one above the black area"
"It's red, it looks like blood." Dean said and looked warily up from the blade into Bobby's eyes.
"It is son, it's your blood" Bobby said softly with a look of weary sadness filling his features.
Missouri got it and put her hand to her lips emitting a little gasp. So did Father Mick his eyes widened and he leaned back against the wall for support. Only Sam and Dean seemed to be the one's still puzzled.
Dean looked at Bobby's expression and Missouri's wide-eyed face and couldn't, didn't process what it meant.
"That would explain the pain in my side" He quipped and tried to smile.
"Boy, it was your blood on the blade that killed the demon. It lit him up just like Rubys' knife did and he died within seconds after I just stabbed him once." Bobby smiled a little after that.
It hit Sam and he looked shocked.
"My…blood?" Dean looked back in disbelief and then he turned to Missouri as she gently sat down on the other side of him.
"It makes sense Dean" She said as she took up his hand and softly stoked it back and forth in soothing motions.
Father Mick finally found his voice and added, "If your touch can bless water it follows that your blood can obliterate the taint of demons and their sin in all its forms."
Dean gave a panicked look to Sam who looked back at him uncomprehending.
"Now, child," Missouri continued, "the most important thing for you to do right now is to get better from this…this evil attack and think on this new revelation to your gifts while you heal. You will know which is the best way to use them, your heart will tell you," and she suddenly looked like she was about to cry. She got up, blinked back the tears that were forming and asked Bobby, "Do you have any antibiotics in that med kit of yours?"
Bobby nodded to Sam and said, "You should."
The nod to him by Bobby broke the trance of disbelief Sam seemed locked in and he quickly said "Yes Ma'ame" to Missouri looking a little flustered at the abrupt change in her voice. But he got the med kit and took the bottle out, shook two capsules into his palm and passed them and the glass of water Missouri just handed him to Dean.
Dean painfully propped himself up against the headboard of the bed, popped the pills into his mouth and began to raise the glass to his lips when Missouri clucked her tongue at him. She gave Dean a knowing look and made a pantomime motion of stirring the water in a glass with her finger.
Dean slowly raised his hand and dipping it into the glass he held made a small swirl then tipped the contents into his mouth to swallow the pills. The waster tasted sweet again like at Bobby's and he quickly looked down at his chest to see if it was…. if he was gonna start glowing again.
That's when he noticed his chest was bare. Oh Man! He hated being on exhibit in front of Missouri of all people. "Uh, Bobby could you pass me my shirt?" he sheepishly asked.
"You mean this one?" Bobby held up the shirt he'd been wearing that now sported a tear surrounded by a huge stain of drying blood.
"Ugh" Dean growled another decent shirt ruined. And that one was really comfortable too.
"Sam could you get m'duffle outta the car?" Dean crossed his arms in front of himself and to no one in particular explained, " we keep duffels in the car for…emergencies…" Dean sighed as his skin began to take on that soft luminescence.
Sam smirked at Dean's futile gesture of modesty and said over his shoulder as he headed out the door, "Be right back, don't GLOW anywhere"
"So NOT funny" Dean shouted after him.
Sam brought Dean's duffle over to him and watched quietly as his brother selected a flannel shirt; but when Dean winced as he tried to put his arm down the sleeve Sam put his hand on his shoulder and said softly, "Hold on a minute."
"Both arms up" As he held the shirts sleeves open and up above the older Winchester head. This was exactly the way Dean used to get Sam into his shirts when they were growing up.
"Dude, you are not dressing me," Dean protested.
"I'll tell you what I'm not doing," Sam said in a soft no nonsense tone. "I'm not gonna stand by and watch you tear out all Bobby's stitches 'cause you're too stubborn to take help when it's offered. Now. Put. Your. Hands. Up.
Dean fought the urge to smile at his baby brother's take-charge tone. "You can be such a…"
"Bitch, I know" finished Sam as he rolled his eyes.
When his arms were in the sleeves all the way Sam helped Dean lean forward to bring the back of the shirt down along his back. Sam smirked and started to button the front but Dean slapped Sam's hands away saying, "I can do those myself" which only caused Sam to snort a laugh as he backed off.
But Sam didn't move too far away. As he watched his big brother doing such a simple every day thing as buttoning his shirt, his smile faded and he bit his lower lip. He'd almost lost him again this afternoon. Sam saw his brothers hands as they worked the buttons into the holes and noted that the skin was indeed emitting a soft glow, it made Dean seem more fragile somehow, his life more precious. Sam's heart hitched; he couldn't, wouldn't loose him again. Dean's head was bowed as closed the last button on the shirt when he felt his brother's hand on his shoulder.
Dean looked up frowning at what he thought was going to be an impatient remark from his brother but his expression changed when he saw the look of worry and concern on Sam's face.
When Sam spoke the take-charge tone was gone and replaced by one that had an unvoiced 'Please..' in it. "Let's go…now"
"Ok, Sammy we'll go" Dean said in his soothing voice, the one he always used to comfort Sam when he was scared as a kid. He looked to Bobby and the older man had already been gathering up the duffle and the kit and was likewise ready to go too.
Sam helped Dean get up and as they moved to open the door Father Mick asked if he could take care of Dean's ruined shirt.
"Keep it, burn it I don't care what you do with it" was the very weary reply Dean gave him.
What he didn't guess the priest would do with it is mail it off to a special lab at the Vatican for testing.