Disclaimer: See Chapter One
Author's Note: Thanks again for all the reviews and the lovely MAZ101 who brought tears to my eyes this weekend. But we aren't going to talk about that…
Chapter Five: Soul with a Body
Sam was having a hard time processing what Marcel had said. If he and Dean continued their pursuit, it wasn't Sam that they intended on killing, it was Dean. He'd always counted on his visions, all the warped scenes that played out in his mind, to give him the answers, to be accurate. He'd gotten pieces here and there but not always the entire picture. And the current images he'd seen had shown Dean injured. Not dead.
He had really thought that this one had been about him, though. It had felt more personal. He sighed and rubbed the palm of his hand into his eye socket. Nothing. Nothing was more personal than Dean. He was all Sam had left. Without his brother, Sam… Sam huffed… Sam would crash and burn.
"You okay?" Dean asked from the front seat.
Sam looked over. They'd left the club and met Eva at her house, let her change and then, at her urging, they jumped into her small, nicely affordable Ford so they could scout the location of the dragon's castle and make a plan.
"Fine." Sam said tightly. Tried to let it pass.
But Eva was flashing her eyes at him through the rearview window and Sam had to fold his arms across his chest. Her stare made him feel transparent. Like she could see every truth and every sin he'd ever committed.
If she saw something, though, she wasn't speaking it. Instead, she talked about the back road they were on, how soon it was going to change from cement to gravel. How she and Abbey had been out to Marcel's place a long time ago and the land that he owned was expansive. She said he had mentioned that over the hills, there lay a large brick building that hadn't been inhabited for years. She had forgotten about it until she was getting ready for bed the night before. Thought she should check into it first, make sure it was actually there.
Dean was rambling on about the who's and the why's of the girls that were missing. What did they have in common and what actually happened to them? Sam had listened from the backseat as Eva gave as much as she knew. They'd been all over the board in ages. They'd come from different races. They'd had different colored eyes. Different religions. They'd come from all over the United States.
The only thing that Dean and Eva had agreed on was already known: they were all Drag Queens.
It gave Sam a headache. Still, he was busy picturing the trees again. In his vision, it was night. They weren't together, though, they'd gone separately. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying hard to remember something that was different. The something that he was missing that Dean was the one in danger. That he'd gotten it wrong.
"Tell me about Abbey," Dean was saying. Working the case the only way he knew how: keep it in motion. If they weren't ready to fight it, they would talk it through until they were ready.
Eva's big shoulders shrugged. She didn't have on a wig this time; just her natural, cropped-cut hair. Sam watched her in the mirror. She looked pretty.
"She's great. Much more delicate than I am, smaller. Blonde, but a bit older like me so she's been dyeing it for a few years. She smells great." Everything spoken in the present, Sam noted. Nothing in past tense.
Dean's neck was kinked to the left, listening. "Is Abbey her real name or her stage name?"
"Stage." Eva turned swiftly.
"What's it mean again?"
She smiled sweetly then. Heartbreaking, that smile was. "Abbey Road. She only sings Beatles' songs."
And then they were on the gravel and Eva's car was bouncing down the loose-packed dirt road. Sam gripped the hand rest. Outside, the trees were whizzing by, leaves blowing along the rock as they headed down the open road. And Sam wondered how many more roads were open to him and Dean.
It had come down to Dean. In his life, he'd gotten all his loved ones killed and the small amount of friends they had, well, he always found a way to burn a bridge with them. No, Dean was what it came down to. He was the only person left in the world who whole-heartedly believed in Sam.
And that… that hurt because it scared Sam more than anything. Wondered how worthy he was anymore of having someone believe in him.
"Ringo is her favorite," Eva was saying. Sam's attention spliced back into their conversation. "But as far as the songs go, 'In My Life'… oh, she does it from the heart, boy. She is just…" Eva shook her head, the words gone. Sam watched from the backseat as his brother looked at Eva. He could see Dean's eyes studying her. Saw his throat work up and down and was reminded of something he often forgot: that there are layers upon layers to Dean.
"We're going to do our best to get her back."
Eva nodded and Sam felt his own head nod in response. Dean could be that convincing. Not even talking to him, and Sam was sucked right in. Had no idea where Abbey was and, given the fact that Marcel had said leave us alone, Sam was pretty sure Abbey was being digested by a hungry dragon, he still nodded along with Eva. Yeah. They were going to do their best to get her Abbey back.
"Well, that's good." Eva cleared her throat. Back in action. "Because I'm not ready to sing any Good-bye Norma Jean's anytime soon."
Dean frowned. "Isn't that Elton John?"
Eva laughed. Throaty and deep. "Yeah," she answered, and Sam saw her wink at Dean. "Yeah, you homophobe, it is. The Queen of all Queens."
"I'm not a..." Dean looked away, out his own window and Sam had to smile.
"Oh, Dean," Eva teased. "I'm only kidding. Don't be such a drag."
Sam's smile morphed into a grin. He listened as Eva sighed and then there was a low hum from the front seat and Sam's eyes flickered from the darkness of the outside back to Eva's head. It took a good twenty seconds for Sam to conclude that she was definitely humming Candle in the Wind in the front seat. She had a fantastic voice, even without words. It was calming and non-intrusive and Sam welcomed it.
"You know Elton and Bernie never even remember writing that song. No one can remember writing the lyrics or the music. They remember writing the title. But the meat? What makes it so juicy, it wasn't even significant enough at the time for either one of them to remember writing it."
Sam chuckled to himself. Eva was that kid who never missed a beat in music class, whether it was a new note to learn or a tidbit on how that note was first created. Reminded him of someone.
"What's that?" Dean asked, jabbed a finger out his window.
Eva slowed down. "I don't know. It's close to where Marcel lives, though."
Sam squinted. He scooted over to get a better look out Dean's side. There was a field of dry, dead weeds, at least two feet high whooshing by so fast it looked like it could be the start of a decent movie. Ticked his head and shoved that aside and then looked out further, above and beyond the weeds, and he could see what Dean was talking about: there was a cloud of dust, spinning independently.
"It's a dust storm," Eva was saying but everything tilted dangerously and Sam blinked to clear his head. Opened his eyes and everything started graying at the edges.
"Dean," he said, but it came out too quiet. Eva's muffler was growling louder than his voice.
A white light cascaded into his vision, slicing like an eclipse between reality and the place where movies were real. Sam reached a blind hand out. "Dean." Felt his fingers hit his brother's coat. The light ripped open then and Sam could see he was back in the dark, trees above him. He could also feel Dean grab hold of his hand at the last second, a worried Sam? slipping from his lips.
Sam looked down. He was holding a fucking gorgeous sword in his hands. Brought it up to his face and looked at it. Engraved. Absolutely beautiful. Had to show this to Dean when he caught up with him. He looked ahead and saw he was walking towards a big brick building. Not many windows. Secluded. Old. Looked like a place that would have a dungeon.
As he approached it, though, he could hear his name being called. He turned to see who it was that had followed him, but he already knew. It was his brother. His brother and Eva and they had been chasing him but now they were both on the ground. Hurt. Sam took a step to go back when he felt something of enormous heat behind him. He swallowed hard and turned to look because he was going to see this bastard. See what they were really dealing with.
That's when the dust hit him. Sam's eyes grew round. He looked back at Dean, but the dust had kicked up behind him and his brother was nowhere in sight. He coughed and gagged, put his hand up to his forehead, held like a blade blocking out the rising dust. Had to shut his eyes again when the heat returned behind him. Turned quickly. But it was too fast and he was too late.
He was falling again. Blood everywhere. Opened his eyes to see blonde curls rushing towards him. Crashed and burned.
He was never going to escape it.
"Sam!" So very Dean. So very real. Sam could feel his brother's fingers digging into his shoulder. Grounding him. Always grounding him. Dragging him away from the horror film and bringing him back to reality. Sam was grateful.
Cracked his eyes opened and blinked rapidly. Adjusted to what had happened since he'd checked out.
Eva had apparently panicked or kept it together, who really knew, either way she was able to pull her car over to the side of the road and throw it into park. It was still running, but Dean had made it to the back passenger door and yanked it open, crawled in and was kneeling in the car, his body in front of Sam, angled oddly, but there.
"You okay?" Dean asked. "What did you see?" Waited a full second. "Are we getting closer to it? What was it?"
Oh, shut up with the fucking questions. Sam rubbed his temple, felt Dean's grip tighten. Could suddenly feel the silk of Jessica's hair next to his cheek. Wanted so badly to wake up and be hers again. Took a deep breath and before he released it, her hair had grown darker and it was Madison's infectious smile staring back at him.
"Sam?"
Sam opened his eyes. Stared at his brother. Almost started bawling again.
"What's wrong with him?" Eva asked, but from a distance. Sam wasn't sure if she was on the other side of the car or behind Dean. Could've been through the wheat field and down a rabbit hole for all he knew. He just kept his gaze locked with his brother.
Dean ignored her, though. "You had a vision." Stated it like Sam was confused. No shit, Sherlock. "What do you remember?"
Sam tried to smile, but it was fruitless. Not going to dimple his way out of anything tonight. Felt it die before it ever hit his eyes. "Just, what I saw before." Narrowed his eyes so Dean would believe him. "Except, more blood. And dust. I don't remember the dust from before." Told him everything.
Almost.
Dean nodded. Sam saw his throat bob up and down and he had released the death grip he had on Sam's shoulders. His hands were still there, just more comforting than restraining. And, really, Sam was grateful for that, too. He just couldn't seem to find the words to express the sentiment.
"Dust storms always seem to kick up out here in the wheat." Eva again and Sam could kind of see her now, behind Dean, in the shadows of the night. "It's so dry and open. You can sit on the open road and just watch it race itself up and down the field."
"How far is it to Marcel's?" Dean asked, but didn't take his eyes off of Sam.
Eva was pacing on the gravel road, her shoes scuffing against the rock. Sam wondered if she had chosen practical foot wear. Chuckled to himself that he knew she hadn't. She was pointing to the right. "There's another little road up ahead. His house is at the end. About a mile or so up the way."
Sam nodded before Dean even asked. Yes, he could go on. Yes, he wanted to see where this son of a bitch lived. Yes, they still needed a plan.
"Okay," Dean agreed. Released Sam's shoulders and Sam felt himself fall forward a couple of inches. Dean patted his arm. "Scoot over." Swung his hip at him like he had done the night before back at the motel. Sam shuffled to the left, let out a sigh when he felt Dean's weight next to him.
Eva made a sound like she was irritated or touched. She really was a hard read. But she slammed the back door and walked her tight-jeaned ass around to the front and climbed in. She reached her hand up to the rearview mirror; long manicured fingernails readjusted it until she found the right position. She flashed a toothy grin at the boys in the back and said, "Buckle up." Started the car and put it into gear. And then almost giddy, "Jesus Christ. I feel like a soccer mom."
WWW
Eva turned on the side road and the outside seemed to get darker, if that was possible. The light reflecting from the moon off the wheat was gone. Dean squinted. Couldn't even see the dust anymore. And it was quiet.
"What would a dragon be doing with a bunch of Drag Queens?" he asked Sam, kept his voice low, hopefully just a mumble to Eva's ears.
Sam didn't answer right away. His body was slumped against the door, watching the black fly by. Dean waited. Knew Sam was thinking about his words. "In fairytales, what's the purpose of a dragon?"
Fairytales? And Dean was back in his old room in Lawrence, Mom sitting down next to him, Little Golden Book of the Brothers Grimm folded open to his favorite page. He blinked and let that go. Had forgotten that moment. Decided to keep it and brought it back. Tucked it away right then and there, in front of Sam, without him knowing. "Protect a princess."
Sam breathed on the cold glass. "Right." Brought his finger up and traced a Devil's Trap on the condensation his warm air had left behind.
Dean hitched a shoulder. He never had read that story to Sam. That story of two brothers and a princess. "So? None of these guys – girls – are princesses." He paused, thought about it. Elton John, as Eva had mentioned before, was a self-proclaimed Queen. But not a princess. Dean weighed it. Decided he was right: There was no princess to protect.
"What else, then?" Sam asked, his neck quirked towards Dean, eyebrows lifting up. "What else does a dragon protect?"
What does anything protect? Dean wondered. Looked at his brother's coiled expression, trying to thinkthinkthink and Dean whispered, "Family?"
Sam glanced up. Gave him an understanding look. And Dean shrugged. Wished he could say something, though. Something that would make this pain go away.
"I don't think it works like that," Sam replied. "I mean, it's a beast. I don't… we don't even know if there's more than one. God, let's hope there's not more than one."
The outside was growing darker still. Dean turned away, felt the car start to slow as Eva took a corner. The field was gone, giving way to tall trees, branches hanging low, large leaves hanging heavy, begging to fall to the ground. Dean swallowed. Knew that they must be the trees Eva was describing before. Wished they had a plan already.
"There." Eva stopped the car. They were still a great distance away from Marcel's house, but the lights outside were on and the brick was illuminated against the night sky.
"It looks like a building," Sam commented, his body leaning forward. Dean realized his was, too.
"It's not a castle." Dean agreed. Cleared his throat. "It looks like a prison."
"Maybe it is." Sam shifted in his seat, getting a better look. "Or was. Or still is. Maybe the girls are in there. Still alive."
Dean smirked. Didn't make sense. A dragon keeping its victims alive? Why? It was hungry, wasn't it? "Don't get your hopes up." A warning. Eva could certainly hear this conversation. "Maybe Marcel chose a prison to live in to contain the dragon inside."
A long pause and then Sam, bouncing it back to him because that's how Sam worked a case when he didn't have a laptop in front of him. "So you think it's what? Protecting the outside world from the dragon and just… feeding the dragon… dancers?"
"Dragons like princesses," Dean offered. Thought it sounded good. Funny, but good.
"But they're not…" Sam released a hot sigh. Looked at the castle again, hard. "We need a plan. Find out what the hell kills a dragon –"
"Apparently a sword, "Dean reminded him. His voice raising, higher. He was getting passed worried. On to angry. Couldn't help it.
"Find the sword that will kill it." Dean wondered if Sam already knew what sword it was. If he'd already seen it in his dreams. This, Dean thought, this is what makes Sam different. Licked his lips and retracted that thought. Let it go and didn't bring it back. Not his fucking fault. "We need to know more. Like is the dragon protecting anything at all because it sure as hell isn't a princess." He reached down, pulled the handle on the door and stepped out.
Sam climbed out the other end. He glanced over at Dean, met his brother's narrowing eyes. Dean nodded, probably gave Sam some comfort, he figured. "I hear it."
The sound of a dog barking. Loud this time. Not friendly, not this one. This dog was barking a get-the-hell-out-of-here-warning.
"Where are you two going?" Eva called from inside, manicured fingers gripping the wheel for dear life.
Dean bent into the open window, thumbed down the dirt road. "Taking a walk. You stay here. Give us five." Looked at the massive building. "Make that ten," he decided before giving the car door a solid pat.
Sam loped around the front, joined up with his brother without a word and they started a quiet trek up to the perimeter. The building wasn't all brick. A great portion of it was built from stone. Probably by hand. It was cracked and discolored and looked like it had been there for a long, long time.
Dean saw Sam make a gesture. Around to the right and up. Dean tilted his head back and sure enough up ahead on the right was a small window just out of reach. They crept up to the wall and Sam knelt down, gave Dean a shoulder and balance for a decent jump. Damn stone was wet in the night air, though. Dean slid down it like it was a playground slide. Felt the jagged edges slice into his right side. Even the rocks were telling them to turn back now.
"Son of a bitch." Gritted it through his teeth, kept his voice low.
Sam didn't say anything. Just intertwined his fingers together. Ready to hoist his brother up. Eyed a larger stone jutting out above Dean's head, on the left. Dean judged it quickly. Up and grab. He might be able to reach the window.
But he couldn't. Sam was under him, trying hard to steady his weight but the wall was too freaking slippery and the rock just wasn't close enough to give him any leverage. If only they had something else under him, something bigger than Sam, stronger…
And just like that, on the tip of his tongue, there was Eva sidling up next to his brother and pushing her large arms up Dean's leg. Gave him an extra eight inches, at least. Dean's eyes skimmed the base of the window, just enough to see inside: a long hall way in front of him, lit nicely, doors running as far as he could see. Some had locks on them. All had bars. Keeping something in. He squinted, thought he caught a shadow pass by but it was hard to see all of a sudden. The light changed, growing darker. Dean glanced to the left and to the right.
There. One large eye fixed on the top of his head. Dean frowned. It frowned. And as he took in a shallow breath, the beast snorted at him, the hot air from its nostrils flaring a cloud of smoke on the small window.
"Shit!" Dean called down, lost his footing and before he knew it, he was elbowing stones and kneeing rocks until his ass fell flat on the dirt underneath him.
Eva was hovering, offering him a hand, asking if he was okay but Dean pushed up, shoved away and jumped to his feet. "Get to the car!" Sam and Eva stood dumb struck, maybe, trying to figure out what the hell he'd just said. He was yelling faster than normal. Dean pointed up. "Dragon!" he hollered and turned away, running toward Eva's car.
In spite of the small amount of humiliation he felt, Dean didn't look back. Didn't need to. He had spent the early part of his life training to zone in the distinct sound of his brother's footsteps behind him and he knew Eva was right on his heals from the way her thigh-high boots plodded the Earth.
"Oh my God!" Must've been Eva, he suspected. Definitely wasn't Sam. There was a sound that erupted, broke through the air like a roar, but there was nothing animal about it. It was beastly and evil. The smell of fire filled his senses and Dean felt the heat on his back then. The rush of a warm fire turning on itself. No longer contained in a pleasant campfire but instead running wild and angry. All his life, he had to run from fire. Horror filled him. He couldn't help it. He had to look back.
Eva was directly behind him. Followed by Sam. And Sam was running, fists pumping, neck strained, eyes dead ahead, as he outran a raging fire behind him. His hair, his body, his entire being was all aglow against the background of reds and oranges.
And behind Sam, he swore he could see the silhouette of a medium size dog.
Dean heard a familiar beep-beep, realized oddly that it was Eva's car alarm and that she was a good girl, thinking ahead. Keys in hand, doors unlocked. Shit, she'd probably have her favorite mix tape cued up in the tape player. They were close.
"Go!" Dean heard Sam breathe, felt hands on his back, pushing him forward as he watched the car magically become visible in the dark. He fumbled, found the handle, gripped and pulled hard, felt almost relived as he dropped into the backseat, Sam directly behind him, shoving him further in.
There wasn't time to catch his breath. It was hard to tell who was breathing when, everyone in the car was gasping for oxygen faster than the person beside them. It hurt listening to the music they all made. Eva had the car started, put it into gear, Cher's Half-Breed harping through the speakers.
Dean felt ill. He watched as Sam slumped against the seat, let his head fall hard onto the cushion, chest rising and falling in super sonic time. Dean supposed his was probably doing the same thing.
He's psychic… he thinks you're a murderer and he's afraid that he's gonna become one himself, cause you're all part of something that's terrible, and I hope to hell that he's wrong, but I'm starting to get a little scared that he might be right.
Dean blinked. Sam's face softened. Not gonna be him.
"…the hell outta here…" Eva was saying, the car in reverse, dirt kicking up all around them. Still, he caught it out of the corner of his eye. The thing – the dragon – darting out of sight. Into the shadows of the large building. Letting them get away. It had the power to stop them, if it had wanted. But that wasn't on its agenda. No, Dean thought, this was just an introduction.
"What the hell was that?" Eva shouted, her car tumbling down the road.
Sam swallowed, placed a hand over his heart as he stammered her answer, "Dr-dragon."
"No shit." The dust and dirt sandwiched the car in. Dean had to squint to see out the windows. He felt the power fade from under him as Eva let up off the gas pedal, let the little Ford calm down with her.
Dean cleared his throat, wanted complete control of his voice when he spoke because Sam looked like he was still recovering and Dean didn't really want to think about what Sam was thinking about when that heat hit his backside. He already knew. "Hey." He nudged Sam. Got no response. "I saw cages in there." Waited. Nothing. "What do you think that fucking thing is hiding?" Counted to three without even a whisper. "Or, you know… protecting?"
"Well," came the voice of reason from the front seat and Dean could've kissed Eva right then. On the cheek. "In the movies, what does a dragon protect?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "We've been through this, Eva." This is what happens when the common person works a case with them. It's a constant game of catch-up. "A princess," Dean answered because she would make a big stupid deal about it like she did the chocolates and he wasn't going to go there again. At least, not in front of Sam, catatonic or not.
"No, that's what the dragon eats. What does it protect?" Eva threw her arm over the seat and put the car in reverse again. Dean looked ahead, they were headed straight for a ditch and Eva never even let out a surprised huff or puff.
"It eats princesses?" Dean questioned. "But, if that is true, why don't dragons ever try to eat the princess in the stories?
Eva snorted; her eyes teased him through the rearview mirror. "Virtue. A dragon protects virtue. Or, maybe in this case, it craves it. Maybe it only eats virtuous people. Takes the virtue somehow before it consumes the body. Humans are not a body with a soul. They are a soul with a body."
Dean reached over, placed his hand over his brother's hand, which was still grasping his pounding heart. Sam took a deep breath.
Virtue? Dean shook his head. "There's no such thing, sweetheart." That was a fairytale. Every parent in the world tells himself or herself that story. It's all make-believe, though. "Nobody is virtuous." At least, not by choice.
"Yeah," Sam piped in. He brushed Dean's hand away, picked at his shirt like it was too sticky. "Really, Eva. I doubt a dragon would be concerned with decency. And the girls that are missing, they aren't exactly, you know, virgins."
There was a pregnant pause as Eva's car curved around a turn in the road. Through the dark and the trees, Dean concentrated out the window, wondered how many people had wandered out in these fields to have sex. Then wondered about how many bodies were secretly buried in such an open space. He sighed and waited for the fields of wheat.
"Abbey is."
"What?" Sam asked, surprised.
"Abbey's a virgin. I mean, if you look at it a certain way." Eva kept her eyes peeled on the road, her hands palming the steering wheel. "The thing is, she has never been with a woman. She always brags about how she has never ever kissed a woman before. She's only been with…" shoulders lifted. "Men."
Dean smirked. Released something that resembled a snicker. "That's not a –" Stole a look at Sam for help. But realized quickly that Sam was actually considering this as a possibility. "That doesn't count as being a virgin." Dean stated. "Didn't you guys pay attention in high school biology? There's a whole section about it."
"Well," Eva batted her eyes at him through the rearview mirror. "The sex is different. I'm just saying maybe the dragon is liberal. Or conservative. I don't know – it has a particular taste."
"Picky," Sam chimed in.
And Dean rolled his eyes again, caught sight of the wheat, but the light from the moon wasn't bouncing off it like before. The dust had kicked up and was swirling in a funnel. Dean watched it twist and turn, following them down the road in a tornado type chase. It kept its distance, though, wanting to be seen, but not noticed. Didn't want the attention.
Dean was about to give up on it when two eyes blinked back at him.
"Holy shit!" Dean exclaimed and his left arm flew into the air, his hand grabbing at Sam's collar. He could feel Sam turn to him as Dean pulled him over and pointed out the window. He was certainly losing his mind, seeing things, hallucinating. But as he peered out the glass, Sam's face next to his staring out the window, the dust coiled and rolled and danced closer to the car. Seeking the seeker now. Wanting the attention. It spun dangerously close to the passenger side and bent its form over. Two eyes smiled at what it saw.
Sam gasped and pulled back. Dean felt the car slide to the left and Eva was shouting incoherently from the front seat. She didn't slow down, though. Instead she pressed her foot to the floor and the car started to fishtail in the gravel. Dean could feel his body swerve from side to side and just as he opened his mouth up to tell Eva to slow it down, the car started to lose speed.
"What the hell was that?" Eva shouted, her hand turning the steering wheel to the left and then hard to the right. Keeping them on the road. It was a tough day for a soccer mom.
"It's a Sylph." Sam sat up taller and Dean felt his heart sink.
"Son of a bitch." Of all the shit to run into. Because with the Winchesters, luck wasn't something that brought lottery tickets and happy Christmases. Oh, no. Winchester luck brought hungry, mythological dragons – which weren't even supposed to exist – that were being holed up in a prison being fed virgin drag queens – and were being guarded by a fucking Sylphid.
"What is it?" Eva asked, the car still moving, but at a slower speed and Dean knew she was having a hard time seeing the road in front of her now. It was going to stop them one way or another.
"It's kind of like a fairy," Sam answered, which was true and not. It was more like a cross between a fairy and a spirit. Nasty things, wanting nothing more than to cause pain. And not usually in the physical sense. But they came with a purpose. Whether it was to gain knowledge, to gain strength, or to gain leverage. Dean felt the car slow and finally come to a stop. The Sylphid was swirling around in mad circles now, blinding their view and it wouldn't stop until someone excited the vehicle. He knew it wouldn't play favorites between any of the car's occupants. The Sylph already knew who was in the car and it knew regardless of who it interacted with, it would choose one side: it's own.
"Is it Marcel?" Eva turned to look at the brothers from the front seat and Dean could see her dark eyes blink quickly. She was scared.
Dean remembered Marcel's tat and the tail of the dragon. It was coiled like a funnel cloud. He glanced back out the window. The Sylph had stepped back, had grown taller as it pulled its contents in tighter and something that resembled a limb extended from its body, waved for someone to get out. A friendly gesture, beckoning.
Its eyes, however, were furrowed and Dean could see from his position that although its hands were being let's-play-catch-playful, its eyes were saying something else. His hand gripped the door handle and he yanked back.
"Wait." Sam spoke from beside him. "I'll go."
What was he joking? Dean shook his head. "Sam –"
"Then we go together."
You go. I go. Dean considered that. Couldn't kill a Sylph. At least, not in this form. Had to outsmart it. Two heads were better than one. Dean craned his neck. "Keep your hands to yourself. Don't try to touch it." Looked away and back again. "You know not to ask or answer it questions, right?"
Sam nodded, grabbed the other door handle.
"It's going to know things about you…" Shook his head. Bad idea. Sam going out in this. The shit this thing could throw at his brother. "But you can't let it get to you. You gotta let it slide off your back."
Sam stared, eyes locked tight. He nodded once. "You, too, man."
Dean blinked. Dad said I might have to kill you, Sammy. "I know." Wondered for a fleeting moment if Sam knew that the Sylphid couldn't lie. That it could tell them exactly what their heart desired. That that's how it could kill a person. Swallowed. Hoped Sam didn't notice in the dark.
"What the hell do I do?" Eva asked, watching intently, nervous.
The Sylph whipped its tail, smacked into the car door. Knocked.
"Just keep the motor running." Dean answered as he pushed on the door and felt the immediate change in temperature as he stood in the middle of the road.
Wished to Hell Sam had just stayed in the fucking car.
WWW
The wind wrenched the door from Sam's hands and he was unable to shut it behind him. Felt bad about that because he needed to keep Eva as safe as possible. Figured she'd have enough sense to reach the door and close it herself.
He looked up, over the top of the car, and saw the top of his brother's head disappear into the churning dust and sand. He opened his mouth to shout at Dean to wait up but as he rounded the car, Dean wasn't in his sights any longer.
"Winchester." It spoke and Sam's skin crawled. The voice was low and menacing and held an edge of monster to it. Reminded him immediately that this thing was not human. That it may never have been. Sam shifted his weight from left to right, drew in a deep breath and filled his lungs, letting his chest expand in a threatening alpha-male way. Scared off lots of high school pranksters this way. "You're a long way from home," it continued. Sam squinted. Lawrence. It knew where he was from. The only place he and Dean considered home.
"Depends where you consider home."
Sam blinked. That was Dean's voice. He looked at the Sylphid. No eyes were staring down at him. He was facing its rear, its tail whipping from side to side, keeping him back.
"Kansas." The thing responded. "Home of the Wicked Witch of the West. And the East." Cackled or released what could only be described as a laugh. "But you're here now."
"That I am."
Shit. Sam took a step to his left but was met with a pounding of dust and filth, kicking up in his face, caking his hair. "Dean!" he shouted, but the thrashing sand muted his voice.
"I wonder why you have come here." Not really a question, Sam noted. Hoped that Dean would be careful in his exchange with the creature.
There was a pause and then Dean's voice, "I think you already know. My brother and I are hunters."
"Hunting a dragon." It observed. "You think you are a righteous enough man to kill a dragon?"
It waited and Sam ran to the other side of the Sylph, tried to warn Dean that he could hear him and that that was a question and not to answer it. The dust kicked up, halted Sam in his tracks, his arms coming up to cover his head and he backed away, coughing and gagging.
"I didn't know you had to be righteous," Dean said.
Sam sucked in a breath, tried again to shout, but the tail lunged at him, debris entering his lungs and it took him to his knees.
"Oh, yes. You must be righteous. It's a pre-requisite." The thing swayed. "I'm not so sure cutting the head off an innocent vampire would be considered righteous."
Sam choked, felt his windpipe start to close up.
"Then I guess I won't be killing the dragon."
"Guess not." It waited again. But this time, it turned part of its body. Made room through the dust for a small window to appear to Sam. A foggy version of his brother on the other side of the opening, standing still, smiling at the thing.
"Maybe your brother is the dragon slayer."
And Sam could see a vein in Dean's jaw jump. But the thing didn't notice or if it did, it didn't pull it out of its hat.
"Maybe." Dean steeled his gaze. Mask pulled on tight. Sam wasn't sure what to make of it.
"And maybe you are your brother's slayer."
Sam felt sucker-punched. A hard right to the gut –never saw it coming – hit him where he kept all his built-up guilt stored. He fell to his hands, tried desperately to suck in enough air to holler to Dean because what Sylph was offering was something neither he nor his brother was capable or handling right now.
If ever.
He was rewarded for his efforts with another mouth full of dirt. Gasping for air now, he could feel his eyes water, knowing it was from pure exhaustion. It was getting hard, so hard to catch his breath.
The window between he and his brother magically readjusted itself just for Sam's viewing pleasure.
"You think about that one, don't you?" The creature danced around the question. "Are you going to save him or are you going to kill him?" Waited, amused with itself. "Keeps you up at night."
"Sam?" Dean called out and Sam wanted to answer, wanted to let Dean know that he could hear him. But the Sylph wasn't allowing it. It wasn't playing fair. This was a trick and this two-bit spirit-fairy wasn't trying to help either of them, it was trying to hurt both of them. Let them give it their hearts so it could bring on sweet death.
Dean shuffled on the other side. Mumbled something that Sam couldn't hear over the noise of the Sylphid. And Sam knew then that his brother was contemplating the offer. Was thinking about if the knowledge outweighed the risk. And, oh, what a weight it all was.
"Yeah," Dean said. "That keeps me up at night."
An admission. But not a question. Sam spit out a fork full of dirt. Noticed off to his right a brown and white dog staring at him. Sam stared back at it. Put his hand out, keeping the dog back, restraining it the only way he could.
"So." The Sylphid spun its tail, whisked it around Dean, bringing him closer somehow. In return, it threw a cloud of dirt and pebbles at Sam. The dog disappearing in the blur. "What is it that you want to know?"
Dean swallowed, his body stilled, but his eyes lowered and seemed to drift through the opening. Sam snatched onto the moment and lifted himself higher.
"I wanted to know…" Dean hesitated, considered something neither Sam nor the Sylph was privy to. "How… how would I kill a dragon?"
The Sylphid sprang back in what could only be described as agony. Hurt and betrayed at the ill usage of its powers. Any and every question on the table, the truth no matter what it was asked and this is what Dean Winchester had on his mind: a hunt? The creature coiled tightly and splattered his displeasure in Sam's direction. It swelled from the inside and climbed into the air, bent low to Dean and answered him: "You would not kill a dragon. It is not yours to kill." Kicked more debris towards its backside and released an inhumane cackle once again.
Sam was falling back to the ground, knees swollen and sore. His eyes were blinded by the dust and dirt, tears falling down his cheeks unchecked, choking on his own breath. He was drowning. Drowning in a sea of mucky earth.
"I'd think you'd rather like to know about your father." The Sylph could've been smiling. Said it like it was. "Did he die for you? Or you for him? Because there doesn't seem to be a whole lot of life left in your body anymore. And as for your brother…" The creature stopped. Sam felt like it was turning around to look at him. "If he wants to kill the dragon, he best bring better questions than you did when he shows up for the job."
It bowed or curtseyed or did whatever politically correct thing a Sylphid does and excused itself for the night, leaving behind a flogging of debris whipping in the atmosphere, blanketing the space between the brothers. Thick and cold.
"You stupid ass." Sam felt hands on his arms, tugging his body up. "Couldn't figure out how to get out of the way of a dust storm." Nails dug deep into his armpit and he would've yelped, if only he had enough air.
"Is he okay?" Definitely Dean. And he was running. Sam tried to open his eyes but they were matted shut and the slightest movement caused tiny particles to jar loose and crumble against his irises, itching and scratching.
Still, he was in motion. Being half-carried, half-dragged to the car and thrown into the back. "I swear to God," Eva's voice clipped irritated, through the haze. "You two are so fucked up. I don't know how either of you save anybody."
Sam's body sprawled lifelessly across the backseat. He turned in on himself, trying to catch his breath, if only for a few seconds. Felt like he'd just gone twelve rounds with Holyfield. The door opened and the cushions bowed as new weight joined him in the back. An arm was swung over his chest and he had to readjust himself to allow Dean room.
Eva sighed heavily. Her voice was exasperated as she bit out, "And I just cleaned the goddamn upholstery."
Sam felt the car rock as Dean shifted and his head was being laid down. The smell of leather filled his sinuses. A thumb moved back and forth against his forearm.
It was like driving with a five year old with a license all of a sudden. Eva half-turned around to the backseat. "What just happened? What is that thing? And, oh my God! Did you see that fire?" Eva babbled. "Now, that was red! I swear…"
He was sure she eventually finished her jibber-jab sentence and then some but Sam had slipped away from the conversation and was greeted with black.
Playlist:
Candle in the Wind aka Good –Bye, Norma Jean hummed by Eva Destruction, originally performed by Sir Elton John
Half-Breed, performed by Cher
-TBC-