Fly
to the Angels
Chapt 8?
Summary: Dean has to face his own
memories, a trip home, an estranged father, and his own mother.
PG13- language warning.
A/N: I know some of you lovely readers wondered how Mary would react to John and his parenting skills/his relationship with the boys… well it's written, as a rough draft and will be up in the next chapter. I was intending to have it in this one… but time flew and I'm actually surprised that I got this typed up today. Go figure!
Chapter 8
Sam and Dean re-entered the living room to find both John and Missouri tense and flush. John now sat in the seat Dean had vacated, eyes down cast, face taught. Missouri stood, not too far away, leaning against the wall, near the window, staring intently at their father.
Words, Dean surmised, had been shared.
John looked up, startled as Sam came back in, closely followed by Dean. He shuffled closely to Sam, letting him lead a path around the coffee table.
"Dean" John said, standing up, "What I said… I didn't…" he stumbled over the words, not used to apologising.
Dean came to a stop, and studied their father thoughtfully across the room, and then slowly nodded.
"It's o.k." he mumbled, pushing past Sam to the small desk, on the other side of Missouri, in front of the window. He pulled the chair out and across the side, slumping down on it, and resting his elbows on the side of the desk. He caught the look that Sam gave him, which seemed to say 'No, it's not' but was relived when Sam didn't push it any further.
John slowly lowered himself back into the couch, "Are you o.k.?" he asked his son.
"I'll be fine" Dean replied, messaging his temple as another sharp ache ripped through his head, causing to breathe out sharply.
He felt Sam move across the remainder of the room, and crouch down next to him, resting a hand on his arm.
"Dean, I really think you should…" he began.
"I said no" Dean replied stiffly.
"What?" John asked, observing his two sons and what appeared to be a coded conversation.
"Nothing" They both replied simultaneously, as they glanced up at him.
"Please, Dean…" John began.
"Missouri" Dean suddenly exclaimed, breaking eye contact with John and ignoring his pleas, "I can't go around like this forever."
Missouri looked away from John on the couch to his son. Sam stood up and walked around Dean, squeezing in between him and the window, even though it was obviously too cramped for his tall frame.
"Yes" she said, "Of course."
She walked past the Winchester's to a book case on the other side of the room where she ran her hand along the shelf until she came across one in particular, pulling out a small book and blowing a dusty cloud from it. She headed back around the table, pausing slightly, to hand it to Sam.
"Like I said before" she said returning to her original position, "If Mary's energy… her soul… whatever you want to call it, stays inside of Dean, then they will both be destroyed and there will be nothing left of Mary at all.
Sam looked at the front cover of the book. It looked firm and fresh – either this book was quite new or it hadn't seen much use. It was simply entitled 'Spirits and the other side'.
"So, what do we do?" he asked, turning his face to look at her.
"Well" she paused, "We have to find a way to release her".
The way she said it, so easily and simple, Sam thought, made it sound like this was a common occurrence.
"An exorcism?" Sam asked.
"No Sam" Missouri corrected, "Being possessed and being attached are two different things. In an exorcism you casting the demons out – commanding them to leave. In a spirit detachment, you lead the spirit to the light" she paused considering her words, "You help them on their, natural, path."
Missouri sighed loudly and rubbed at her own head, "Some spirits become trapped between worlds, like limbo, and have been waiting for someone with that path – and – some have been unable to move on because of unfinished business or entanglements. Some believe that withheld emotions, negativity, entanglements within relationships between the living" she paused, glancing at John, letting her words sink in" or the dead contribute to spirits being unable to move on.
"Don't mean to be rude" Dean spoke up, bleary eyed, "But I'm hearing a lot of words and no solutions".
She turned and raised an eyebrow at him.
"I know you're feeling under the weather Dean, but it's rude to interrupt".
"I wouldn't need to if you cut all the bull and got on with it!" he shot at her.
"Dean!" Sam warned, "She's trying to help".
"I would rail on you for speaking like that in my house" Missouri said, smiling at him, "But you're mother's doing a pretty good job of it".
Dean gulped and looked own, finding the table easier to focus on, aware of both his father and Sam staring at him.
"You'll find a few incantations in the book that should help" Missouri continued, "and you'll probably need some salt for purification, several white candles for spiritual white light and some holy water" she paused, "But a lot of this is going to be up to you Dean".
"What… what do you mean?" Dean asked, voice quiet, as he gulped nervously at the sympathetic smile she now held.
"Candles, purification, they can only do so much" Missouri explained, "Incantations help – open doorways – but you will have to surround yourself, spiritually, with light too".
"And how do I do that?" Dean scoffed at her, hand now rubbing and tracing the wooden patterns across the desk.
"By… believing in it" Missouri exclaimed, emphasising with a wide gesture of her arms, "See it – all around you – it will open you up to the other side".
Dean looked up at her, eyes squinting, suspiciously.
"Other side?" he asked.
"Mary can not actively detach herself from you Dean" Missouri continued, "Someone, that will be you, will have to take her and show her the way, to the threshold."
"Wait a minute" Sam spoke up, voice alarmed and concerned, "Dean's actually got to 'pass over'? I mean, I don't really like the sound of where this is heading".
Dean turned and glanced at Sam, an amused smile playing at the edge of his face as Sam, yet again kicked into protective, and questioning, mode. Irritation and anger bubbled not too far away as he thought to himself that it should be their father throwing the concerned parental objections out and not his baby brother.
"Chill, dude" Dean said, swatting him on the leg.
"He's got to lead her to the light, to the threshold," Missouri spoke to Sam, "But, he'll be grounded, connected, back to you and the incantation".
"See, dude" Dean grinned at him, "Nothing to worry about, you just need to pull your psychic rabbit trick out of the hat".
"Dude" Sam warned him, thumping him gently on the arm, before looking at Missouri again, "Me?"
"Yes" she said, "In most detachments, it can be done remotely – away form the original setting, but because of the unusual circumstances – Dean stepping into Mary's energy, the house, you being present, well I think you should go back there".
"You?" Sam asked, "Not we?"
He looked at both Missouri and their father, sitting there silent and brooding, as he ran a hand through his hair and then over his face. Godammit, Sam thought to himself, anger and frustration spreading out of him like a wild flare, why doesn't he say something!
"I'm sorry honey" Missouri said sadly, "But I think if I or your father were there, it might upset the balance of things".
"You think?" Dean asked incredulously with a hint of frustration, "But you don't know".
"No, Dean, I don't" Missouri agreed, "But I do know when to trust my feelings".
"Like how you 'thought' I should stay away from the house?" Dean asked, sarcastically, staring her straight in the eye, anger building up within him.
Sam would have put a reassuring hand on Dean's arm and murmured a warning, whi8ch was becoming quite frequent in the past few days, but instead he stared at their father, head bowed and involuntarily flinched.
"You're father had nothing to do with this decision" Missouri stated firmly, meeting Dean's stare with her own fiery one.
"So it's a decision now!" Dean said, voice rising.
"Dean, hey" Sam said, turning back to his brother, realising Dean was transferring his anger of their father to Missouri. He placed his hand back on Dean's shoulder and squeezed lightly, noticing the clammy sweat that had broken out on his skin, "Take it easy".
Dean wrenched himself away from Sam, swaying unsteadily on the seat, one hand flying back to his head, the other covering his mouth and nose.
"Fuck" he exclaimed, breathlessly, "Shit! Can you smell it?"
"Whoa" Sam said, instantly moving and pulling Dean upwards against his own body, "Are you o.k.?"
"It's strong" Dean moaned low, licking his lips, "I can taste it".
"What is it?" Sam asked, leaning away from the window, head down low, beside Dean's face, "I can't smell anything".
Dean continued to breathe in deeply and Sam felt the occasional shudder rip through him.
"Cinnamon" Dean said, frowning in concentration, "and… nutmeg I guess".
Nobody missed the gasp that came from John, across the other side of the room, pale with startled eyes.
"Mary… your mother" he began, gruff voice wavering, "she loved cinnamon and nutmeg. Had it with everything" he paused and rubbed at his stubble, "She used to make the best rice pudding – then when she was expecting you Dean, well she just kind of lost the taste for it, and she never did get back into it".
Dean stared at John, their eyes meeting, both cloudy and pained.
"Missouri?" Sam asked, turning slightly to look at her, but keeping his body against Dean's, allowing his brother to have the support he needed.
"It's not uncommon" she said, standing away from the wall, observing Dean, her head tilted, "taste, smells, memories. Pretty standard for an attachment".
"Pretty standard, huh?" Dean laughed weakly, "I've already barfed once today thanks".
"So it has to be me" Sam said, distracting everyone from the fact that Dean was smelling and tasting their mother's memories.
"Yes it does" Missouri confirmed, "And you're the best person to do it."
"I am?" Sam asked, aware that Dean was shivering so he rubbed his arm up and down with his own hand.
"Yes" she said walking past them all to stand on the other side of the coffee table, nearest the door, "for one thing, Dean trusts and loves you, your love for him will hold a lot of protection, but you have a powerful gift and some people say that the best people for a detachment process are 'spiritual warriors doing battle with unseen forces'" she paused and smiled at him, "I think that sums you up".
She didn't miss the look John gave her, sharp and uncomfortable, while Sam straightened and glanced at her with a blend of mesmerised curiosity.
"We should get some sleep, especially you Dean" she said, giving Dean a firm and stern look, "You should go back there this evening – the spiritual energy should be stronger at night" she turned and walked out of the room, "I'm going up, there's sheets in the cupboard down the hall, you boys take the guest room upstairs, John you have the couch".
Sam pulled Dean to his feet and they both walked out of the room, leaving John silent and sitting, as they headed out after Missouri.
"Night boys" she said, "And no arguing".
"Thought you were going to apologise?" Sam asked.
He was sat on a comfortable chair, letting the warming early morning sun, shine on his face. He leafed through the book Missouri had given him.
"No, I considered it" Dean mumbled tiredly, "Then I de-considered it."
He was lying facedown on the bed, arms clutching the pillow tightly; boots kicked of lazily and discarded on the floor at the bottom of the bed.
Sam grinned from his seat, "You want another round, I'll keep score."
"Dude, lay off him" Dean said quietly from his prone position on the bed.
"Excuse me?" Sam asked, shocked, "I know you may have only said those things and got worked up like that because of all this shit affecting you but it was still you and he still deserved it".
Dean turned his head sideways, on the pillow, to look at him.
"Yes, I'm still angry and pissed" he said staring at Sam, "and yes I still want to Rambo on him, but … shit… but this has got to be hard on him".
"Dean, you don't have to…" Sam began.
"C'mon Sam" Dean barked at him, exasperated, "We're, like, going to waster his wife".
Sam leant forward on the chair, worried and concerned.
"It's not like that and you know it" he said.
" 'Detachment' then" Dean huffed, raising his hands in quotation marks, "It's gonna be hard… I can feel her, hear her, I'm having her freaking memories Sam! And he's got to say goodbye all over again!"
Sam wasn't too sure if Dean was actually referring to himself – his thought process – and his words especially were sporadic and discontinuous from each other, making it difficult to decipher if it was their father, Dean or both of them, that he was talking about.
"Yeah" Sam agreed, "I guess it is."
Dean shuffled on the bed, moaning and groaning, as he tried to find a more comfortable position. Sam stood up and, dropping the book to the seat, and stepped over to the, only available, double bed.
"Move over" he demanded.
Dean eyed him, one brow raised, as he contemplated Sam's form hovering over him.
"Dude, C'mon!" Sam complained, shrugging, "There's only one bed. You going to deny me some much needed sleep" he looked at him in what he hoped was his best 'puppy dog eyes' look.
Dean groaned again, but pushed himself over further, fluffing the pillow in a few frustrated thumps.
"Fine, whatever" Dean growled out, "Just keep your freaky elbows and feet away from the merchandise".
Sam smiled as he sat down on the edge of the bed, pulling his own boots off, and leaving them neatly to the side, as he swung his legs up. He was tired, but hoped being close to Dean, would calm and reassure him, like they had been in the bathroom.
"Man, you're like a meercat" Dean murmured sleepily, letting Sam pull the covers up over them both.
"A meercat!" Sam burst out laughing, "What happened to Giraffe-boy?"
"-'re more like a meercat today" Dean slurred his words, eyelids fluttering, "Long neck, all alert, sensitive…" his voice drifted away as his breathing evened out.
Sam yawned widely and then looked towards Dean, face relaxed, mouth slack and slightly open.
"Good night Dean" he said even though it was several hours past dawn-break.
He closed his eyes, letting the darkness claim him, with the full knowledge that Dean was asleep next to him.
tbc
Mary will have her 'chat' with John in the next Ch.
(no spaces) Quote from healthwithhypnosis. com /hypnotherapist directory / bill-lukas .htm 'Spiritual warriors doing battle with unseen forces'