SEVEN

Honey Brook, Pennsylvania

January 18th, 2009

Dean hadn't meant to meet that girl, whose name he could no longer remember, and stay out all night. Jessie or Jaime or something like that. He knew better than to do stuff like that while in the middle of a hunt. It was distracting and stupid. It usually caused more problems than it helped, but Dean had needed some release. And Janie, he suddenly remembered, was just what the doctor ordered. Dean rubbed his bloodshot eyes and steered the Impala into an empty parking spot. He turned the car off and laid his head back against the seat, closing his eyes for a moment to relish in the silence.

It was rare for Dean to actually enjoy moments like this. Usually they were filled with memories of his time in hell; the atrocities he had endured and the ones he had inflicted on others. He was appalled at himself, disgusted by his weak will. Sam was too, even though he would never admit it. Dean could see it in his brother's face, see the disgust and disappointment behind his soft, hazel eyes. He didn't blame Sam, but he was grateful Sam never said anything out loud. Dean didn't think he could take hearing Sam describe just how repulsed he was by his brother.

How can anyone believe I am capable of saving the world? I'm a monster. I've done monstrous things both in hell and on Earth. How can anyone, let alone God, just overlook that?

Dean sighed and pushed himself up. The sun, shining brightly through the windshield, had warmed him considerably, even though his thoughts had turned cold. He scanned the parking lot out of habit and spotted Castiel, dressed in his usual dark blue suit under a tan trench coat, his tie slightly undone and his light blue dress shirt wrinkled. The angel was standing near a dark blue Toyota Camry. How long has he been standing there? Dean thought, aggravated. He rolled his eyes and got out of the car.

"Hey Cas," Dean called as he crossed the parking lot towards the angel.

"Dean," the angel nodded back.

"So what brings you around this time?" Dean leaned against the car next to the angel, trying to keep his tone light as his thoughts continued to swirl in darkness.

"It appears Lilith's plan is more widespread than we thought. There have been two more murders since you and Sam have arrived here in Honey Brook."

"What?" Dean shouted, shoving himself away from the car. "When?"

"Relax Dean. The murders happened a few miles from here, in a Philadelphia park and law office, respectively. The second appears to be a bit more suspicious as there was no ritual used. It's a bit strange." Castiel looked at Dean and sighed. "There would have been no way for you to have stopped them, Dean. You can't save everyone."

Dean glared at the angel. "Then why the hell am I even here, Castiel? I mean, God ordered you to pull me from the pit to save the world, to save people. So far, I've managed to screw that up each time you've come to me. I don't seem to be making a great case for keeping me on Earth, do I?"

"I cannot question God, or give answers for Him, but He has faith in you, Dean. Faith you seem to lack in yourself. You..."

"Save the crap, alright," Dean interrupted. "I've heard you spout it before." When the angel shook his head, Dean growled in frustration.

"Look. I've never believed in God and now I'm expected to accept that He has been watching out for me, that He believes in me to save the world? To stop Lucifer - the damn Devil - from walking the Earth and destroying humanity?" Now it was Dean's turn to shake his head.

"That's not something anyone can get used to in only a few months. Not after living their whole life thinking The Big Man never cared," Dean growled. His hands were clenched into fists, his breath quick, anger warm in his cheeks. He was seeing red, as the phrase goes, and it felt good to finally let it out. Castiel stood watching Dean with a slightly amused expression on his face. Dean glared at him, waiting for the angel to speak.

Finally, he could see the angel had been expecting this and was letting Dean vent. Castiel wasn't going to argue or try to reason with Dean. "Alright. I'm good," Dean said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly to help ease him into a calm.

"Good. You should get Sam and head to Philadelphia. We think Lilith may actually be in the city, so it's prudent that you get there soon."

"Really? Lilith, in the flesh so to speak, in Philly? You think she'd be that stupid to hang around?"

"Lilith is anything but stupid, Dean. There must be some reason she's chosen to stick around. That's why it's imperative you and Sam get there. This may be your chance to stop her for good," Castiel stated. The angel briefly glanced around before turning back to Dean. "I have to go now. Hurry Dean. It may be your only shot." There was a bang, as if from a backfiring car, and Dean turned instinctively towards it. When he looked back, the angel had disappeared. Dean rolled his eyes at the dramatic exit, before starting for the motel.

As he walked through the motel lobby, a heavy man with dark russet skin and deep brown eyes looked up. "Excuse me. Are you Mr. Mills?" the man called to him. Dean paused, trying to remember if that was the name Sam had used to register the room with. Last time I let Sam pick the aliases, Dean thought petulantly.

"Yeah, I am. Why?" He eyed the man suspiciously, hoping it wasn't an issue with a rejected credit card.

"Well, this fax came through for you about an hour ago. I tried ringing your room, but no one answered," the man said, showing the sheet of paper he was holding in his hand. Dean walked over to the desk.

Where the hell is Sam? he thought angrily. Dean took the paper, noticing some scribbled information in Bobby's familiar scrawl around a copy of Sam's sketch of the unidentified pentagram. The man behind the counter looked a bit perplexed, but didn't ask Dean any questions. Smart man, Dean thought, smiling at him.

"Thanks," Dean grunted, giving the man a small wave. He headed down the hall to their room, concern rising in his stomach. I should have called Sam, Dean thought, angry at himself. Or at least he should have called me. Dean could feel his concern for his brother's safety turning into dread as he thought about Castiel's news. Maybe Lilith knew they were in the area and had made a preemptive strike.

Dean quickly slipped his keycard into the lock and heard it beep as it unlocked. "Sam?" he called into the darkened room. He heard a muffled groan and his stomach knotted instantly. He flipped the light switch on and began scanning the room, looking for his brother.

"Turn the light back off," Sam grumbled from his bed, his head tucked under one of the beige motel pillows. Dean relaxed as he took in his brother's form, lumpy under the sheets of his bed, his hair ruffled from sleep.

"When the hell did you start sleeping past sun-up?" Dean asked as he threw the blinds open on the long window beside his empty bed.

"Well, since I stayed up until six-thirty in the morning doing research on a job I'm supposed to be working with my brother. Who, by the way, didn't bother to call to say he wasn't coming home last night," Sam muttered, still trying to keep the light from reaching his half opened eyes.

"It's not the first time and certainly not the last," Dean stated shortly. After a minute, Sam turned over onto his back and bunched the pillow behind his head. He looked at Dean, but said nothing.

"Sorry," Dean apologized. Sam still said nothing.

Remembering the fax from Bobby, Dean showed it to Sam. "Bobby faxed this over this morning. Front desk said they tried ringing the room, but you weren't picking up since your head was obviously buried in down," Dean teased. He sat down on the edge of Sam's bed and handed him the paper. Sam pushed himself up, rubbed his eyes as he tried to get them to focus, and squinted at the scribbles.

"Doesn't look like he had any luck either," Sam groused. "He was able to identify some of the runes inside the pentagram, but they appear to be from several different rituals. There's nothing specific to link it with anything," Sam observed, turning the page to read each of Bobby's individual marks as he spoke, his face scrunched in frustration.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Yeah, tell me about it. Bobby basically found out exactly what I did. Although, he did figure out what this rune here is," Sam said, showing Dean what looked like a weather vain. North was topped with a skull and East and West had been replaced with what appeared to be the letter B and a backwards S.

"What the heck is that?" Dean asked, certain he had never seen anything like it.

"It's called a Veve." When Sam caught Dean's blank stare, he elaborated. "It's voodoo. It's used to summon various Loa or spirit deities. It just doesn't fit with the rest of the symbols, though. See this here," Sam said, pointing to another symbol in the pentagram, "this is the symbol for a Pagan blood ritual. And this," Sam pointed to another one, "is The Sword of Power."

"So where does the voodoo come in? You don't usually see pagan symbols mixed together with this stuff?" Dean was as confused by the first symbol as the last one Sam showed him, but he tried not to let on.

Dean never cared enough to fully understand the pentagrams he would draw to perform exorcisms or certain rituals. He just drew what his dad, or Sam after they started hunting together almost three years ago, told him to, performing the rituals as they instructed. Sam and their father were always the ones more interested in the why's and how's. All Dean wanted to know was that it sent the damn things back to where ever they came from, preferably for good. He had had to learn some basic Latin and that was enough, in his opinion, to do the job.

"It doesn't and that's what's got me and Bobby stumped," Sam mumbled, now completely lost in thought again. Sam loved the research, lived for it. It had bugged their father that Sam was such a devoted book worm, never really interested in learning the physical aspects and running the obstacle courses John would set up for them in preparation to be hunters.

Sam got up from the bed and absently moved over to his laptop, mumbling to himself. Dean sat watching his brother for a few more minutes then decided he was going to go take a shower. When he remerged almost an hour later, feeling somewhat relaxed from the hot shower, Sam was still sitting in front of his computer, a look of deep concentration on his face.

"Find anything new?" Dean asked, already knowing what his brother was going to say.

"No. Although I found a website that has some interesting voodoo rituals we may be able to use later," Sam said, looking up at Dean for the first time since he'd handed him the fax. "You look like you're going to fall asleep standing up, Dean," he stated. Dean's eyelids began to droop heavily at the mention of sleep.

"Yeah," he yawned loudly. "I could really use some shut eye, but we gotta hit the road. There were two more murders in the last day, just outside of Philly."

"Where'd you hear that?" Sam asked, spinning back to his laptop and pulling up websites for a few of the local news stations and newspapers, scanning them for information.

"Castiel showed up right before I came in. The angels think Lilith is actually there, in the city. We should head out soon, try to make a few stops and gather some info." Dean yawned again and his eyes blurred. He blinked to clear them and found Sam staring at him.

"Why didn't you say anything before? If Lilith's in the city, we may be able to find her and stop her before she finishes whatever this is. Maybe even stop her for good."

Dean shrugged. "Well, I kind of got distracted. What with worrying about my idiot brother. And then said idiot brother went into this kind of trance and has been glued to his computer for the last hour and a half," Dean stated with a grin. "Would you have heard me even if I had said something?"

"Probably not," Sam relented. He smiled at Dean before adding, "but my idiot brother should have tried anyway. You know taking down Lilith is the main priority here, Dean."

"I know. That's why we need to pack it up and head out." Sam nodded his head in agreement, stifling his own yawn, and got up from the desk. Dean began packing his things as Sam went in to shower. While Sam was in the bathroom, Dean pulled out his cell phone and punched Bobby's number. The phone rang several times before the hunter's answering machine picked up.

"You've reached The Singer Salvage Yard. Leave your info after the beep," the short message instructed. Dean left a brief message letting Bobby know that they'd gotten his fax, that there were some new murders linked to the pentagram, and that they were heading to Philadelphia to check out the possible lead Castiel had given them on Lilith. Sam came out of the bathroom in a wave of steam just as Dean put his phone back in his jeans pocket. After giving the room a final once over and signing the room bill, Dean followed Sam outside to the Impala.

"Hey, Sam," Dean called out as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his car keys. "You drive," he said as he tossed them at Sam. Sam caught them easily and grinned, a slightly shocked look on his face. "I'm gonna catch some z's." Dean dropped into the passenger seat and waited until Sam had pulled out of the parking lot before sliding down in the seat and closing his eyes. "Wake me when we get there," he mumbled, already in a doze.

Almost immediately, Dean fell into a familiar nightmare. Alastair, whose demon face had been replaced with the man whom he had inhabited the last time they'd run into him, stood over Dean's half naked body with a small vial of acid. He grinned sadistically and dropped a stream of liquid onto Dean's exposed stomach.

Dean howled in agony. He writhed and jerked, trying to get his hands free from the shackles that bound him, but to no avail. Alastair's deep, cruel laugh echoed within Dean's head, pounding on his brain.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled his brother's name endlessly through his raw throat, his voice broken and hoarse.

"He can't save you, Dean. No one can and no one wants to. You're here for the long haul, boy. Mine for eternity if I choose. I can give you a way out of this pain, Dean, just say the word."

"NO! NO, I WON'T DO IT! YOU KNOW WHERE YOU CAN SHOVE YOUR OFFER, ALASTAIR!" Dean screamed at the demon.

Alastair shook his head in dismay, making a tsk-tsk sound as he did. "That's such a disappointment, Dean. I bet you'd be good at this job. Just like you were good at your last one. Maybe better." With a growl, he emptied the entire bottle of acid onto Dean's stomach. The skin bubbled and fizzed, hissing as the acid ate through the layers of tissue. Dean cried out again, wishing for an end to the pain.

He began to sob as he watched Alastair produce another bottle of liquid from thin air and began pouring the acid over Dean's skin again, this time onto his chest. The smoke from his burning flesh wafted into his face from an unpleasantly hot blast of wind. Dean gagged and tried to hold his breath, but the burning sensation was too much and a shriek of pain broke out of him.

His resolve, his willful defiance of Alastair, was beginning to weaken. Dean could feel it, the need to be free of this agony, building within him. Any more of this and I don't think I can last, he thought dejectedly.

"Come on, Dean. Just take my offer. You've lasted longer than any demon thought possible. A lot longer than even I thought possible," Alastair hissed into his ear. His words brought Dean's resolve back with a vengeance.

"Go screw yourself, Alastair!" Dean spat at the demon. Alastair laughed at Dean and dumped the entire bottle onto his chest, watching the bubbling skin with twisted glee. He followed it with another bottle and another until all Dean could do was whimper, his voice almost completely gone. "Sammy," he moaned, quietly.

"Dean? Come on, man, wake up," Dean heard distantly.

"Sam?" Dean moaned again. "Oh god, let this be over." Alastair's human face became a blur as Dean's eyes filled with tears. He closed them and began to cry, "Oh god, Sam, I wish..."

"Come on Dean, please wake up! You're just having a bad dream, man. Wake up, dammit!" Dean was roughly shoved and his eyes flew open. Bright sunlight blinded him instantly and he blinked rapidly, trying to adjust them. "Dean, are you okay?" Sam's voice was thick with worry.

"What?" The nightmare had been so real. Was it really just a stupid dream, Dean thought groggily.

"Are you okay? You were thrashing around and yelling."

"I'm fine. Just dreaming, I guess."

"You scared the crap out of me," Sam stated.

"Sorry," Dean murmured. He noticed Sam's concerned expression and added, "it was nothing, really. Just a nightmare, that's all."

"A nightmare, huh? About your time in hell?" Sam probed. Dean looked around. They were pulled to the side of the road, cars whizzing past them.

"When you want to tell me about yours, I'll tell you about mine, alright?" Dean snapped as he pushed himself up. Sam immediately turned his attention back to the road and Dean rolled his eyes. Thought that's how you'd react, he thought childishly. Sam pulled the Impala back onto the road, taking advantage of a brief break in traffic, keeping his eyes focused ahead.

"Not exactly fair," he mumbled. Dean smirked at his brother, but didn't reply. The radio played Black Sabbath's "Embryo" softly in the background. Dean reached over and cranked the knob, blasting the song and killing the silence. He knew there was no way he was going back to sleep for a long while so he figured he might as well enjoy some music.