We'll Always Have Kansas: Chapter 8 by asesina
A/n: Sorry for the delay! I was a bit busy recently. I have decided that this story will most likely end up being 10 chapters long. Also, I just wanted to issue a warning: the upcoming chapters will get darker and may have character death.
Thank you for the feedback! I hope you enjoy this installment.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. CW and Erick Kripke are the luck ones :(
"As the sun sets on battlefields
I hope you can save me
I hope you can save our wounded hearts"
-"Bend Your Arms to Look Like Wings", Funeral for a Friend
Sam stared in fear as two shadowy figures drifted towards him across the bloody pavement. They disappeared and reappeared in a jarring, perforated path that was so characteristic of bitterly vengeful spirits.
The two spirits joined hands and turned their wretched, angry faces to Sam.
The spirits seemed to devour Sam with a glare as they feasted on his fear with a dark, eyeless gaze.
Sam screwed his eyes shut and prepared for the attack. Dean threw a glance at Lydia and was shocked to see a twisted smile on the angel's beautiful face.
"Sammy, wake up!" Dean yelled. He desperately tried to reach his brother, but he was still frozen in place by Lydia's invisible grip.
"Quit squirming," she whispered with a smirk.
"Let 'im go, you crazy bitch!" Dean shouted. He stared in horror as the spirits trailed their translucent, bony fingers over every inch of his body.
"So, this is the bastard himself," hissed one of the ghosts. It was the smaller of the two, and the voice was decidedly feminine. Dean shivered when he heard the sibilant voice slice through the dusky air.
"Don't touch him!" Dean yelled, struggling fruitlessly against the angelic power that fastened him to the bloody earth.
"Oh, but then it isn't fun," laughed the taller spirit as he cupped Sam's chin in his hands and drove a formless shadow-finger through Sam's throat.
Sam gurgled and choked on his own blood as the spirit made a jagged sawing motion around Sam's neck. Dean's eyes were transfixed on the thin red trail that formed as the spirit dragged a finger around Sam's neck. When he reached the base of Sam's skull, the spirit motioned towards his female accomplice and directed her to place her hands where he had left off.
"Let's see how you like your own patented brain removal surgery," she spat as she plunged her hands into Sam's skull.
Sam cried out in agony as his vision swam and his head began to pound. It felt like someone was pouring hot wax between his skull and his blood-brain barrier.
Sam chewed on his lip and avoided letting out a scream as the female spirit prodded his brain like a novice musician violently fingers a keyboard.
"Not so fun now is it, Lucifer?" she whispered as she made a fist inside his skull and pounded on his temporal lobe.
"Let me have a turn," complained the male spirit.
The female spirit shot him an annoyed look as she pulled her fingers from Sam's skull and trailed a forefinger down his cheek.
"It's a shame Lucifer had to use such an innocent-looking vessel. I guess that was part of the appeal," she said with a twisted grin as the male spirit began to apply pressure to Sam's spine.
Dean could only stare in horror as the spirits paralyzed and tortured Sam by teasing and baiting his central nervous system. Dean felt as helpless as he did when he held Sam's body in Cold Oak, or when he watched Sam pull away from the motel forever…
He had to stop this.
"Enough!" Dean yelled.
The spirits paused to look at him, but they continued plucking Sam's nerves, sending whispers of pain down his spine to his numbed sensory receptors.
"It will never end, Dean," Lydia said triumphantly.
"Cut the shit or I swear, I'll--," Dean began, pausing to gather his thoughts as he stared at Lydia in disgust.
"You'll what? You can't stop any of this. Sam gave in. Sam is evil," Lydia stated matter-of-factly. She folded her arms across her chest and glared sternly at Dean.
"Sam was evil, but he's better now. Now he's the brother I was missing for so long," Dean said softly, looking at Sam sadly as the spirits' attack was slowly beginning to dissipate.
"Sam became Lucifer. He has a chance to make up for it. This is it, and you're not going to interfere," Lydia said angrily as she moved closer to Sam and Dean.
"Watch me," Dean said, narrowing his eyes as he slowly began to stand to his feet.
"What are you doing?" Lydia asked suddenly. Her eyes widened when she saw that her powers were no longer affecting Dean.
"I'm taking him back," Dean said firmly as he frantically began searching his coat pockets for a knife.
"Dean, your attacks will be fruitless," Lydia said, trying to conceal the panic that was edging into her voice.
Dean finally found the Swiss army knife that he was looking for.
He cut a deep gash in his forearm and smeared some blood onto his right pointer finger and thumb.
"Watch and learn, bitch," Dean said with a smirk. He raced towards Sam and put a hand to his brother's throat to feel for a pulse.
The spirits flicked and blinked in the dim light, but they were still hurting Sam. Their attacks were barely more than tickles at the moment, but they were still a pain in the ass.
"What the hell am I supposed to say?" Dean muttered to himself.
Sam's eyes fluttered open and he looked up at Dean through the slits of eyelids.
"Dean," Sam whispered.
"Sammy," Dean began. Sam shook his head.
"Let them remember, Dean," Sam said quietly. Dean shook his head fervently and put a hand on Sam's shoulder.
"They've done enough damage. I can't watch any more," Dean said urgently.
Sam heaved a sigh and shook his head.
The spirits had almost completely evaporated. They flicked at Sam's heavy, tired legs with sharp little ghost hands, but they barely hurt Sam at all.
"We're-," whispered one of the spirits.
"Free," replied the other one as they disappeared into the night with an otherworldly howl.
Sam shivered and gradually opened his eyes all the way. He grinned weakly at Dean and shifted his eyes to Lydia.
"Lydia," he said quietly.
"Sam, save your strength. I have more victims for you," she said in a musical voice that belied her true intent.
"Like hell you do," Dean muttered as he prepared to attack any wandering spirits that would dare to hurt his little brother.
"Come forth!" Lydia shouted. Her voice was booming and deep, more like the cry of Zeus or Thor than the lilting whisper of an angel.
"Let's get out of here," Dean said to Sam hurriedly.
He tried to pull his brother to his feet, but Sam was still cemented to the ground.
"You two aren't going anywhere," Lydia said with a laugh as she pointed towards a small band of ghosts that were headed towards Sam.
The spirits all carried weapons formed from their own smoky arms and legs. Some had axes and scythes, and one had even fashioned a gun with his left arm.
"You'll pay for this, Lucifer!" shouted one of the spirits as they pinned Sam to the earth and began to chop and slice at his body with their spirit weapons.
Sam cried out in pain as a male spirit dragged an axe across his exposed abdomen.
"Lydia!" Sam shouted in agony. Lydia ignored Sam and turned her gaze heavenward.
"Sammy! You've gotta stop this!" Dean shouted.
Sam stared up at Dean with fear in his eyes. He reached out a trembling hand to his brother, but one of the spirits quickly swatted it away.
"Take it like a man, Lucifer," growled the spirit. He throttled Sam and slammed his head against the pavement.
"Sam!" Dean shouted. He chewed his lower lip in anger as he tried to think of a way to dispel the spirits.
He didn't have much time to think. Sam was being tortured and wounded by the spirits as they projected their memories and anguish on him. His body writhed in pain as one of the spirits drove a sharp hand through his abdomen.
"This is how you killed me, you bastard," she hissed.
Sam gagged on the blood and bile that rose to his mouth. A small trail of blood escaped the corner of his lips, and something about that sight set Dean over the edge.
Dean took a deep breath and rushed at the spirits with the only weapon he could find: a pocket knife. He drove it wildly through the spirits but they all remained stationary, bodies completely impervious to Dean's desperate attack.
"Shit!" Dean growled. He turned an anxious gaze down at Sam, who was attempting to give Dean a wordless warning.
"What is it, Sam?" Dean asked hoarsely.
"Dean," Sam whispered.
"I can't get 'em all off, Sam. You have to tell me that spell," he said quietly.
He prayed that Lydia wouldn't hear their conversation, but he wasn't sure if God would side with him over an angel.
"N-no, Dean," Sam said weakly.
"You have to, Sam. I know that Lydia's telling you to do this, but you can't! It's killing you," Dean implored, throwing a pleading glance at Sam.
"I-it's," Sam began.
"Yeah, Sammy? I just need to remember how to say it," Dean said softly. He watched helplessly as the spirits continued to pummel and torture his little brother.
"It's requiscas in pace aeterna, and then volas, phasma phasmatis," Sam said quietly. He gagged on the coppery blood that was beginning to fill his mouth.
"Here goes nothing," Dean muttered. He dug his knife even further into the rapidly-congealing gash on his forearm. Dean smeared some of his own blood on his fingers and raised a hand as he murmured the incantation,
"Requiscas in pace aeterna. Volas, phasma phasmatis."
He sliced his bloody hand through the wall of spirits that separated him from his little brother. They shrieked in agony and blazed brightly for an instant before disappearing one by one.
Dean grew more and more exhausted as he came into contact with each spirit. By the time he reached the spirit by Sam's head, he could barely stand.
"Almost done, Sammy," Dean whispered with a smile.
He turned and waved his hand through the spirit's smoky form. He disappeared with a scream and shot heavenward in a beam of blinding white light.
"What are you doing?!" came an enraged, incredulous voice.
Dean whirled around to see Lydia flying towards him at lightning speed. She raised a fist and prepared to strike Dean, but someone caught her hand.
"Leave them alone," said a stern, gruff voice.
Dean's eyes widened when he saw Castiel standing behind Lydia.
"Castiel?" Lydia asked in a frightened voice.
"Get away from them," Castiel commanded.
Lydia frowned and stood resolutely between Castiel and the Winchesters.
"Now," Castiel said firmly.
Lydia narrowed her eyes at her fellow angel and folded her arms across her chest as she evaporated into the night air.
Dean took a few ragged breaths and collapsed to his knees as he inhaled and exhaled painfully.
"Cas," Dean said quietly.
"Dean, what happened?" Castiel asked worriedly.
"I- Sammy," Dean began. He winced in pain and screwed his eyes shut as he clutched at his wounded arm.
"How's Sam?" Dean asked. He tried to turn around to look at his brother, but he could barely move.
"I'll check on him, Dean. Don't move," Castiel commanded.
He approached Sam and put a cautious hand on his shoulder.
"Sam," Castiel said quietly.
"Dean?" Sam asked in a tiny voice.
Castiel's eyes widened when he saw the damage that Sam had incurred. Sam's face and neck were a roadmap of intersecting red scratches and wounds. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his visage was particularly drawn and pale.
"Get up, Sam," Castiel said gruffly. He offered Sam a hand, and Sam cautiously reached out and allowed the angel to help him stand up.
"I- I saw their deaths," Sam said quietly. He blinked back tears as he remembered the faces of his victims as they took their last breath.
"Are you prepared to experience that a million times over?" Castiel asked Sam.
Sam stared dazedly into the night. He shivered in the thin, cold air and slowly shook his head.
"No, I'm not," he admitted.
"Why did the visions end so soon?" he asked suddenly.
"Dean must have interfered," Castiel said. He motioned towards Dean's prone form.
Sam's eyes widened in fear. He ran to his brother's side and gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Dean?" he asked quietly.
Dean's face was a mask of pain. His chest heaved with painful, shallow breaths, and his eyes were closed.
"Hey, can you hear me?" Sam asked, gently shaking his brother's shoulder.
"Sammy," Dean croaked. He tried to open his eyes, but another wave of pain overtook his body as he coughed up a mouthful of blood.
"Dean, don't move," Sam pleaded. He blinked back tears as he put a hand on Dean's face and tried to wipe away some of the blood.
"Castiel, what the hell happened to Dean? He's lost some of Michael's blood before, but this never happened," Sam said worriedly.
"He probably has only a limited amount of Michael's blood. There's no telling what will happen if he loses any more," Castiel said in a low voice. He surveyed the damage to Dean's body and motioned for Sam to stand up.
"We should get him to safety, Sam. Lydia might come back soon," Castiel instructed. He made a circular motion with his hand and drew a circle of light around them.
"Hold on," Castiel said. The bloody town square of Cheyenne faded as they were instantly transported to the motel where they had been staying earlier.
When they made it back to the motel room, Dean was still in bad condition. He was growing weaker by the moment, and Sam couldn't bear to watch his brother suffer because of him.
"This is all my fault, Castiel," Sam whispered.
"Sam, you did make a mistake, but Lydia is also to blame," Castiel replied. He placed a hand on Dean's forearm and closed the yawning wound.
"Sam, Dean might not survive another attack like that. If he runs out of Michael's blood, he could die," Castiel admitted.
Sam's eyes widened in horror as he turned to look at his unconscious brother.
"Dean, you can't keep doing this for me," Sam said tearfully as he sat on the bed by Dean and buried his face in his hands.
"Sam, you know that Dean will always make sacrifices for you, even if you willingly became Lucifer's vessel," Castiel said.
"What am I supposed to do, Castiel?" Sam asked dejectedly. He turned to the angel, but Castiel avoided his stare.
"You can find another way to dispel the spirits that doesn't involve injuring yourself or your brother," Castiel said mysteriously.
"What do you mean? Shouldn't I make amends for what I did?" Sam asked in confusion.
"Yes, but you are just propagating the cycle of suffering," Castiel said with a frown.
"How can you say that? Aren't you on heaven's side?" Sam asked incredulously.
"Yes, but Lydia is doing this to destroy you. She's out for revenge," Castiel said.
TBC…