AN: So sorry for the break in publishing. I feel like I didn't fully expect new years? Like it snuck up on me. Anyone ever get that feeling? Oh and the alcohol. I blame the sauce for the break in chapters.
Chapter 10
"How do you get me out without killing Sam?" Hephzibah stared at Dean with a thin smile. Slowly Sam's mannerisms were melting off and Hephzibah's face slipping out from behind his empathetic eyes.
"Oh I'll get you out, bitch. Even if I have to rip you out with my hands."
"I take it you already know the exorcism for ghosts by heart?" Sam folded his arms and glanced at Bobby.
"Not that difficult to remember."
Hephzibah smiled. "I'm not gonna just let go. You want me out, you're gonna have to rip me out."
"That won't be a problem," Dean growled and moved in closer, snorting at a sudden thought. "Man, did you choose the wrong meant suit."
Hephzibah followed him with her eyes, but didn't move besides that. Dean saw the first signs of stress begin to show. Little lines creased Sam's otherwise, perfect skin. Pain-induced wrinkles appeared on his forehead. Dean's smile turned to a sneer when the first grunt of pain escaped his possessed little brother. "You think this will stop me?" His voice shrilled on the last word and he doubled over.
"Yeah. I really do," Dean circled closer, gripping the shotgun deathly tight, praying he had a handgun instead. Sam could've maybe taken a shoulder hit, but one discharge of that pump action shotgun and he might just have a chance to find out if Lucifer was lying about the immortality deal.
"No-ahr!" Sam buckled to the floor. His head hit the dingy carpet with a thump, but he barely seemed to notice. "I'm gonna rip you ALL apart," His voice was a hoarse roar, hollered into the floor. Hephzibah was forcing Sam's body to take deep, full breaths, but Dean could hear the strain it was causing his ribs.
"No you're not," He half shook his head and felt anger take over. His blood was pumping furiously, making him dizzy. He brought up the shotgun halfway to bear on Sam's slumped form before he felt someone stop him.
"Dean! You're not in control," Bobby's voice was low and dark with an even darker glare directed at Hephzibah who was staring up at them, laughing. "She's still controlling you."
Dean gritted his jaw and yanked his arm free. "It's rocksalt,"
And that's still your brother in there!" The eldest hunter roared.
"No- hhn-it's not," Sam was up in a flash and forced Bobby out of his chair. He hit the floor and blinked owlishly. Sam stormed forward, knocked the shotgun out of Dean's hands and grabbed his forehead. "It's meehhhh…." His voice hissed into a whisper and a mad smile blossomed on his face.
Dean felt rage pumping through him at the touch of Hephzibah's hand. His arms stiffened and shook. His head spun and all he could think of was to bite anyone's throat out. In a lightning quick movement he reached out and yanked Sam's arm back till it snapped. Sam reared back his head in a howl and buckled. Dean pulled back his fist and punched Sam across his cheekbone so hard his head popped back and he fell to the floor completely.
Kicking up the shotgun and catching it in the air, Dean moved to stand over Sam's heaving body. He cocked the gun and aimed, just as someone yanked a foot out of balance. He took a knee and Bobby grabbed hold of his shoulders and yanked them both down.
From his spot Sam began screaming as if something was ripping him apart, and almost in sync Dean's entire body coiled in pain as well. Starting and peaking with his head, moving down his spine and into his knees. His vision blackened as the pain took over.
He felt hands on his shoulders and heard the screaming of someone else, but the agony was too much to force away. He gripped his head and writhed on the floor to escape the pain as his nose began to bleed. The carpet grated his skin. Disjointed words drifted from the hands holding him. Another scream that rattled the windows and made his skin crawl. He twitched a few times before the pain died down to a tolerable throb, leaving him almost afraid to move.
Sam's deep sobs was a disturbing background noise throughout the room. Dean felt the hands on his shoulders vanish and heard Bobby's soothing voice, talking to Sam. He opened his eyes and squinted in the sunlight, beaming through the windows. He saw his brother on the floor, bathed in a pool of light and was on his knees, worming his way towards the two of them. He reached Sam and put a hand on his forehead. Bobby moved aside and allowed Dean to check his brother, while he flopped on his back and yanked out his phone.
"Rufus?"
"Are you alright?" His tinny voice was panicked.
"Yeah. We're fine. Tell Stella the spell worked. I banished Hephzibah no probl'm."
Whatever was said next was lost to Dean. His hand was still on Sam's forehead, worrying that his brother was unnaturally pale and cold. Calling his name to keep them both grounded. He hated how worried he felt. His brother was a big guy. Big, grown up hunter and what Dean most wanted was to see how damn well said hunter handled himself right then, but apparantly twenty years of instincts were a little harder to ignore.
"What, Rufus?" Bobby glanced back at the boys. As he received the answer his expression froze, and his face paled. "Wh-What?"
"Bobby, what is it?" Dean was looked over from a slowly rousing Sam, staring up at his old friend. Bobby held out a hand meant to calm him down.
"But...uhh," He pinched the bridge of his nose. "The witch vanished."
Dean tried again. "Bobby?"
"But she-" Bobby glanced back at Dean when another inquiry interrupted the conversation with Rufus. "I got her out."
Dean saw his surrogate father's expression fade into dejection. Bobby looked pale.
"Yeah," he breathed heavily into the phone, and blinked against the sudden burn of tears he had no intention of letting fall. His lip shivered and a shaky breath shook his shoulders, but he forced down whatever turmoil Dean was witnessing.
"Dean?" Sam hadn't opened his eyes, but turned his head towards his brother.
Bobby's saw the younger coming around and made an effort to shake the melancholy. "A long time ago, yeah," His head hung when he finally pulled the phone from his ear and flipped it closed, but he set his jaw and turned to Sam. Both still on their backs with Dean leaning over his brother from the other side.
"Bobby, what happened?" Dean's focus was torn between his brother, and the hopeless look on Bobby's face. "Bobby?"
The old man flinched and turned. "Wut?"
"Everything alright?"
Looking into the wide, worried eyes of both men, Bobby felt like an intruder. "Yeah. Everything's fine. How's Sam?"
Sam's lip twitched as though he tried to smile. "Sam's fine."
"Dude, knock it off," Dean chastised. "You sound possessed whenever you refer to yourself in the third person."
He huffed and allowed Dean to pull them both to their feet, before guiding Sam back on the bed.
"Sit down before you break somethin', man," Dean smiled at his weak smirk and turned to Bobby. "Lemme help. Talk outside a second?"
Bobby looked away from Sam, first at Dean then at the accursed wheelchair that was still tipped sideways as Dean got up and drew the chair over before grabbing Bobby under his armpits and helping him into it.
He wheeled the old hunter out with a quick glance back, and closed the door behind them. "You look like you just got bad news."
"Nothin' pressing," Bobby ran a hand over his head and pushed the cap off in the process. "Stella's dead," His voice deadened. Hardened.
Dean's expression folded into sadness a second. "Shit, Bobby, I'm sorry," He placed a hand on the old man's shoulder.
Bobby broke off whatever he was about to sat and shook his head instead. Dean watched it with more empathy than he would've expected to feel. "You knew her better than you let on, didn't you?"
He nodded and exhaled with a little shiver.
Dean's face scrunched up in pain for his friend and he squeezed the shoulder.
His old friend drew a deep breath before he spoke. "I was worried you'd be dead when I got here," he confessed in a sour voice. Dean recognized the subject change for what it was. "Think even Rufus got a little nervous."
The younger smiled slightly, wondering about his brother inside. Feeling a pressing need to return, but feeling the same level of obligation towards his surrogate father. "Naw," He squeezed the material of Bobby's jacket again. "No one's dead, old man."
Bobby snorted and squeezed his hand back before stiffening and wheeling around. He sniffed. "Who you callin' old?" and chuckled.
Dean chuckled with, only slightly distracted. "We're probably gonna stay here while Sam gets back on top. What're you gonna do?"
"Go back. Call Rufus to pick me up," Bobby glanced towards the main road. "Watch him bury Stella."
Dean nodded, a crushing sense of defeat making him want to crawl into bed for a month. "Alright," He suddenly wasn't which option to take. He felt his mind on his brother, but a very strong need to be there for Bobby as well. Eventually that damn instinct won out. "I'm gonna go back in with Sam. You wanna join?"
Bobby shook his head. "I'm gonna sit out here for a bit."
Dean nodded. "Alright," He padded him on the shoulder, feeling he'd dodged a bullet for some reason.
That was, until Bobby stopped him with a hand on his sleeve. "Dean. There's somethin' I didn't tell ya. Somethin' you might not wanna tell Sam just yet."
Dean's eyes zeroed in on him with an intensity that would've broken anyone weaker. "What?"
"The other news I just got," Wiping his chin, Bobby wished he wasn't the bearer of bad news to two boys who already carried the world on their shoulders. "Stella died before she could finish the binding spell," He watched Dean's face for signs that he understood.
In an instant he did, and his face paled. "She's still here?" He jerked to run back inside.
"No. My exorcism worked, she's in hell for sure," He took a deep breath and wheeled himself to face the younger man fully. "But she's far from powerless. There's a good chance she's gonna turn in hell and come back someday."
Dean compared the information with what he felt deep inside. "Come back for us."
"Yeah,"
"For me an' Sam."
Bobby nodded. This was how demons like Alastair or Samhain came into being.
Dean answered with another nod and a glance down.
"You gonna be able to handle it?" the hunter asked, referring to Sam, waiting inside. Again changing topics.
"Yeah," Dean tried to smile, but felt it strain against every muscle in his face. "Yeah, we'll be fine," He couldn't figure what he wanted more; leave Sam and head out on the road, or rush in and bundle his brother up right alongside him. He knew what he would do, but then again action had always come easy to Dean.
"Good. I'll hang here for a while. Might pop my head in before I leave, but if not I'll call from the road," Bobby wheeled back around to face the road with tensed shoulders, and Dean left him be, heading back for the room. "And, Dean?"
He stopped again, and looked back.
"You may wanna ask Sam what he remembers from the possession."
The statement made whatever air was left, fizz out of Dean's lungs. The grizzled hunter slouched into his chair, and pulled out his cell. He was facing away from the motel, leaving nothing but the ignorant fucking sunshine to comfort Dean before he put a pin in his own feelings and went back inside.
He was headed for a conversation that had been days, Hell months, in the making. To have one more damn chick-flick and get some answers to questions, he wasn't sure he was ready for. To extend energy he didn't have prying answers from a subdued kid brother. He couldn't help feel like it was something he should'a done months ago.
TBC
AN: Thanks to .777 and SoThereWasTheFire for the sugar! :D One more to go.