Disclaimer: Not mine.

Warning: Swearing.

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. And here's the next chapter!

Chapter 7: Ruining Plans

A black truck sped into town, fake police badge already clutched in the tight hands of the nervous middle-aged man behind the wheel. In the passenger seat a cluster of maps, graphs and weather reports were pinned down by an antique Colt revolver.

John Winchester quickly made his way to the residential part of Cromwell. He only knew that this town was where the demon would strike. All the signs pointed to it being tonight. He just didn't know which house, which family. Which six-month-old baby. And he had no time to find out. He was relying on pure dumb luck for that.

He thought he was prepared. If he could only find the right home, he could save a family for the first time since he had picked up the trail a year ago. Come face-to-face with the demon for the first, and hopefully only, time.

He glanced across at the Colt within reach of quick reflexes. If he could find the house, the family, the baby, he could make this hour the last one for the bastard of a beast who had stolen his wife from him. And, by default, had stolen his safe, normal life, and those of his sons. He was ready, he was prepared. Or so he thought.

For what he was about to face, no one could ever be prepared.

No, Sam pleaded. He couldn't do this. He wouldn't subject another family to the same pain his had gone through. Even if it meant begging. Please don't make me do this.

The demon was thoroughly amused by his pleading. It smirked at him, a look duplicated on Sam's physical face.

Please, Sam tried again. If there's any mercy in -.

Mercy? the demon broke in with a laugh. Mercy? Come on Sammy, you know me. I'm a demon. There's no mercy anywhere in me.

Why? Why are you doing this? Why go after this little boy? He's just a baby! He was desperate for answers, desperate for time, desperate for some miracle. But he was alone, and he knew it.

This boy will become so much more. Just like you could have.

Sam felt his blood run cold. What do you mean? he asked, deliberately not connecting the dots.

The demon laughed. Come on Sammy. Don't play dumb. Remember I know your thoughts. I know your memories. Mummy's death… Jess's… you knew there was a connection there. A connection to you.

Sam knew that if he had been in control of his own body, he would have had trouble breathing. Hell, he was only a mind now, and he was having trouble existing at all.

So they were in the way, Sam said in an attempt to keep his mind moving. You killed them because they got in the way to me. You bastard. I hate you. I hate you! You ruined my life! You murdered the woman I loved, just to get to me, you sick fucking son of a bitch!

The demon laughed, but Sam let the hatred feed him. He felt it burning his heart, felt it boil in his head. Oh, this bastard of a demon was going down, if it killed him.

It turned its full attention to the baby and Sam prepared to give the fight of his life.

"What the hell?"

It was a woman's voice, a young woman. Sam jumped in his own mind, but the demon just smiled before turning to her.

She gasped as she saw the yellow eyes. But she didn't back up, didn't try to run. She just glanced quickly at the crib, worried only for her son.

"Who the hell are you?" she asked. Sam had to give her credit. She was young, not even twenty, small, kind of fragile. And here he was, over six feet, muscled, imposing, with demonic yellow eyes. But she didn't back down, didn't move, didn't give any physical indication of how terrified she actually was. Only the demon could smell it on her – even to Sam, she reeked of fear.

At it, the demon sneered with pleasure. It never gave an answer though. Instead, it dived deep into its black cloud of powers and pulled out those ones that Sam knew it kept especially for times like these. Those terrifying powers.

The girl, the baby's mother, slid back into the wall with only a gasp. It was at that moment of something wholly unexplainable to the rational mind that her fear broke the barrier into physicality. Her face paled and she began trembling. Her eyes begged uselessly.

Sam watched on in horror, knowing he was seeing exactly what had happened to his mother. Because of him. He felt paralysed as in his mind she had suddenly morphed into a pretty blonde woman, face slightly blurred between two once very real people. He was terrified, watching her suffer, and knowing that both his mother and his lover had suffered so. All because of him.

In the end, the baby boy saved both their lives.

The baby gave a small cry of fear, knowing instinctively that something was very, very wrong. It jolted Sam from his petrified state, and he finally noticed the many differences between this woman and his mother, and Jessica. And he knew he could save this woman. She slid a little further up the wall.

NO! he screamed, lunging at the demon in his mind. He wrestled with it, and the girl stopped climbing up the wall. And then she dropped suddenly to the ground.

Sam gasped as he suddenly had complete control of his body for the first time in days. Complete control.

But it had repercussions. Nothing seemed to work as it had, and Sam fell to his knees, feeling aches building over his body, like he had the flu. It was at that moment that the demon began fighting furiously back.

Sam screamed out loud as the demon flared within him, using pain in its attempt to regain the advantage. His back arched, subconsciously trying to escape the pain physically, since he couldn't do it mentally. Not that he could do it physically either.

He knew he didn't have much time. He knew very soon the demon would take back control. He looked up desperately at the girl.

She recoiled in horror as he looked up at her, leaning further into the wall where she was crouched.

"Run!" he screamed at her. He felt the demon beating him down, taking over everything again. He began shaking, and groaned with the pain, putting his head down, hands on the ground.

She gasped when he flung his head back to reveal eyes flickering between yellow and brown. But he still had control.

"Run!" he cried once more, shocked as his voice wavered like a cassette that had been left in the sun too long. "Get your son and get out! Now!"

He was breathing heavily. It felt like his whole body was rippling. He was running out of time.

Sam looked up at the girl still cowering by the wall where she had fallen. "Run, dammit! I can't hold it back forever!"

Something in his voice must have spurred her on. Face streaked with tears, she ran to the crib. She passed by close to Sam, who felt the demon surge up in an attempt to grab her ankle.

He kept the demon down as she dashed back past him, baby and blankets clutched in her hands. Again the demon surged, pushing and pushing. He fought back for as long as possible, but the girl had only just disappeared down the stairs when he collapsed to the ground.

His mind receded, and with a snap, the demon regained control. Sam had no choice in it. He was exhausted, and the demon was furious. Incredibly furious. His body shook with the combination of both.

With a cry of rage, the baby's crib burst into flames, which quickly spread around the room. The demon asserted itself fully, implanting itself with a strength Sam doubted he would be able to throw down again. The demon now had a hold on his body like none he had experienced before.

Once fully in control, the demon turned on Sam with a snarl. Oh, you are going to regret that, Winchester.

John saw the blaze from a short distance and swore to himself, feeling the anger at himself compress somewhere very near his heart. He was too late.

He slowed and pulled over, sitting for a moment before hitting the steering wheel with a white knuckled fist.

He sighed, feeling suddenly tired and old. Rubbing his face, he looked over at the light in the night sky. He wasn't far from it. In fact, he was behind it by a house. He could get there quickly by going around the block. He leaned forward to put the car into gear.

Some gut instinct suddenly told him to stop. He listened – he always did – and looked around for the danger. He found it, sneaking about in shadows maybe twenty metres up the road.

Even in the dark, the yellow eyes were bright. Too bright for the sickly shade.

John gasped silently, unbelieving of his luck, and went for the Colt, that mythical Colt that could kill anything – as in supernatural anything. But again, something told him to stop. He looked up again, just in time to see the demon passing under a street lamp.

Now, John hadn't seen his youngest son for some time. Over a year, while he had been hiding from the both of them. And only from a distance while the stubborn boy was at college. But he loved his sons, and, better than that, he had a brilliant memory. He knew, and would know, his boys anywhere, anytime.

But he still had a hard time convincing himself that the figure under the lamp, the one with the demonic yellow eyes, was his youngest. It couldn't be Sam. It just couldn't. But he knew it was, and managed to convince himself that he wasn't going crazy.

After he finished drowning in denial and despair that was.

John drove around the block and pulled up in front of the burning house. A large crowd had already gathered, but they were being kept back by several firefighters, who were aided by three policemen. Lights flashed, and the noise was almost overbearing after the silence of his mind at seeing Sam with those eyes.

He got out of his truck after searching quickly for a badge somewhere in his glove compartment. He walked forward with a determined stride, wishing he could have gotten here sooner. Not just to save the family, but to save Sam's soul as well. If Sam was possessed by the demon, he was going to exorcise the bastard and send it straight back to hell. Well, he was pretty sure he was going to do that. He was wavering because he knew that if Sammy knew what he had done, what his body had done… he could never live with himself.

He came up to the barrier of people, where he was stopped by a firefighter. He kept his head up and flashed the fake FBI badge.

"Agent Eastwood," he introduced himself, snapping the badge shut before the man could get a good glimpse at it. But he saw it nonetheless, and he recognised the commanding tone John had used. He stepped aside and John walked through without another word from the firefighter.

A cop came up to meet him. John flashed the badge before the man could say anything about what he was doing.

"Agent Eastwood," he claimed again. "What happened here?"

The cop shrugged, instantly giving into that need to please his superiors. "We're not really sure. Sir, what are you doing here?"

John gave him a level stare. "Me and my partner have been tracking an arsonist through the state."

"An arsonist?" the cop asked with some disbelief. John pinned him under an icy arched eyebrow.

"Yes. Why, does that seem odd? Does the fact that this bastard has been responsible for countless people burning to death seem a little weird?"

The cop shook his head. "No, sir. Sorry." He looked around. "Where's your partner?"

"On the trail, still. Now if we've finished with the questions, tell me what happened."

The cop almost snapped to attention. "Ah, we're still unsure, sir. Apparently there was an intruder – your arsonist, I'm assuming. Apart from that, the victim hasn't spoken. She's in shock."

John was a little shocked as well. "She? Did the mother survive?"

His question was a little edgy, John knew, but he couldn't help himself. The cop gave him a curious stare where he thought the hunter didn't see, but still answered.

"Yes, they all survived. No casualties at all. Why?"

John forced himself not to shrug. "This man doesn't usually leave survivors. Where are the victims?"

"Over here, sir," the man answered, leading off. John followed, looking up at the house. He was feeling pride swell within him. Obviously Sam was fighting still. That had to be a good sign.

Over near the still ambulance sat two figures. An elderly woman, maybe ten or so years older than John himself. And a much younger woman, holding tightly onto a quiet bundle of blankets that John knew held a baby. He kept the relief off his face. They had all survived. He couldn't believe it.

He approached by himself, and the two women looked up at him. The younger woman looked completely shocked, while the elder was worried.

"Hi," he said gently, unsure how to go about his questioning. "My name's John. Can I ask you a couple of questions?"

The younger woman didn't move, but the elder nodded, tight-lipped.

"Thanks," he said with a smile. "Now first things first. What are your names?"

Again the older woman answered. "I'm Yvonne Harris. This is my daughter, Amelia, and her son, Drew."

John nodded, still smiling in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "Now, I know it's very soon afterwards, but I need answers. Please, can you tell me what happened tonight?"

Yvonne looked down, placing a hand on Amelia's shoulder and squeezing. Still the mother didn't answer.

"I was asleep for most of it. But Drew must have cried, because Amelia went to him. I heard her scream. And then a man screamed. I don't really know what. I couldn't hear properly. But then she came running downstairs, Drew tucked in her arms. She was scared out of her mind."

John nodded, before turning to Amelia. He squatted before her and made her look him in the eyes.

"Amelia," he began softly, almost in a whisper. She heard. "Please, I know it's hard. But I have to know what happened. Please, can you tell me?"

The young woman, girl really, looked up at her mother. Then she looked down at the baby in her arms. And she nodded.

"I heard him cry." She meant her boy, Drew. "I went to his room. There was a man standing over his crib. And when he turned to me… he had… I thought he had… I'm going crazy. I'm insane."

John sighed, wishing not for the first time that people didn't have that reaction inbuilt as the proper response to something they couldn't explain. But he kept his eye on the girl.

"You can tell me anything. Please, I have to know."

She looked up at him, really looked at him for the first time. "He had yellow eyes. He was so tall, and big… and his eyes, they were yellow. And… I don't know. I was suddenly… I was climbing up the wall."

Yvonne made a noise of disbelief in the back of her throat, which both John and Amelia ignored. "And then suddenly I stopped. And then I fell. And he fell too, he fell to his knees. And he began screaming at me to run. He told me to get out and take Drew. His voice… it was weird, like he hadn't used it for ages. Or like… like a tape that's been left out too long in the sun, or something."

"Then what?" John pushed as she came to a halt. "What happened next, Amelia?"

"It all happened so fast. He yelled out… he was screaming, in pain, I know he was in pain. It was like he was… bipolar or something. He was all aggressive and scary, and I felt petrified. And then he fell, and he was so much younger. He was scared too, but he yelled at me. Yelled at me, 'Run dammit, I can't hold it back forever.' I think he was insane… or something… but… I don't know. I grabbed Drew and left. I ran out of there, and then the room was suddenly on fire."

The demon had taken back control. John dropped his head, feeling his heart pound. But he felt around in his pocket for his wallet. From it he drew a photo. He had to be sure.

"Amelia, is this the man?" he asked, showing her a picture he had taken of Sam while his son had been in college. She looked at it and nodded.

"It was dark, and his eyes… sometimes they were yellow… but that was him."

John nodded and replaced the picture. He wished she could know the truth. That the man in that picture had actually saved her life, and that of her child. But then he would be free for about five minutes. Less, considering Yvonne's livid glare.

"Is there anything else, Amelia?" he asked. She began to shake her head but then stopped.

"Oh, you said to tell you anything, right?" John nodded. "As I was running, I heard something. But not… I heard it in my mind."

"What did you hear?" John asked. He glanced quickly at Yvonne, who had turned pale. His eyes narrowed as he realized that she had heard it too. It was confirmed when the older woman whispered,

"You are going to regret that, Winchester."

So, what do you think the demon's going to do? Tune in tomorrow to find out!