7 – Lawyers, Guns and Money

Only Sam would pick now to argue.

"I'm not staying in the goddamn car, Dad," Sam said, hastily loading a sawed off shotgun with rock salt cartridges. Wouldn't kill a demon, but it would hurt them a lot, especially if you hit them in the right place. "I know how to shoot, and how to recite an exorcism spell, so let me do that."

John intended to keep arguing with him, but they really had no time for it. He'd had an eye on his watch since the birds fell from the sky, and the second hand seemed to be moving faster than usual.

"Let the kid help," Jade said unhelpfully, looking at her sawed off like it was the neatest toy she'd ever been given. "It's better than having him here, waiting to be grabbed and used against us."

"Gee, thanks," Sam said.

Jade shrugged. "Just thinking logically, kid."

"And you're sure you know how to shoot?" John asked her. He knew Sammy could shoot, even if he wasn't quite the natural deadeye Dean was.

"Of course I do. I've probably been shooting since before you were born."

John studied her out of the corner of his eye as he drove down what seemed to be a curiously empty road. This woman was what, easily a decade younger than him? Closer to Dean's age than his. It had to be a joke, but a very clumsy one. Still, it made him wonder if she had just tipped her hand.

"Can I have one of the grenades?" Sam asked.

"No." John had some custom explosives – calling them grenades was shorthand – full of rock salt, holy water, and silver ball bearings. They could do a lot of harm to a lot of demons in a short amount of time, but it also did a hell of a lot of property damage. You had to have something really solid to duck behind if you used one, and really good aim. He rarely even trusted Dean to use one; there was no way in hell he was letting Sam use one.

John also had one special bullet left in his .45. Made of consecrated, salt infused iron, it could supposedly take out a demon of Taraka's caliber. It could also kill Dean too if he wasn't careful. So he had one shot, and he had to make it count. He had to kill Taraka but not Dean, assuming he was still alive. There were so many ifs involved he hated it, but he had no other choice. And the clock kept ticking.

It was easy to find the property where Sam and Dean had been kept, as it was currently on fire. The house, the barn, even the back field were all engulfed in flames, pouring black and gray smoke into the sky. One look at that inferno told him no one was still alive on that property, but there was a small town not far from here. A small town that would be a great source of victims for Takara.

John put the pedal to the metal, going way too fast, but there was no time left to spare. There was no telling how many of these demons and monsters were in the cult, or how much time Dean had left. It had been eight minutes by his count, but there could be an error of a minute or more on either side.

"Leave Dean to me," John said, not sure if he was talking more to Jade or Sam. "Watch your backs, and cover my play. I'll be going in. I want you stand behind a salt line and keep the others distracted. No heroes."

"Dad –"

"Do not argue with me, Sam. Not now. Wait 'til we have your brother back."

In the rearview, he could see Sam frowning. He really wanted to keep debating this, but sense prevailed, at least for now. There was no telling when that dam would burst. He still didn't get this thing between Sam and him. He wished it would stop. But with Sam entering his terrible teens, he didn't see it stopping any time soon.

John gestured to the glove box. "Can you get some amulets out of there for me?"

Jade opened it, and a couple of phones fell out. "Do you have enough of these?" She found the anti-possession charms, and tossed them in John's lap.

He threw one back to Sam, and another at Jade. "Wear these at all times."

Jade stared at it, as if she'd never seen one before. "Cute. Kinda crude, though, isn't it?"

"It'll keep you from being possessed."

Jade simply raised an eyebrow, and put it on, but the way she looked at him, she seemed to be insinuating she was humoring him. Whatever. Should he leave Sam alone with her?

The town of Casa Verde was also on fire, or at least a part of it was. John spun the Impala into an open parking lot beside a building that hadn't caught yet, and beneath the choking smoke that was now fogging the town in a halo of chemical scented air, he saw some bodies splayed on the sidewalk.

Once he was out of the car – eleven minutes and fifty five seconds by his count - he popped the trunk, and handed salt and holy water to Sam, who was already there. He was as eager to retrieve Dean as he was. Jade lagged behind, and stood off to one side, eying the trunk arsenal with some trepidation. "You don't happen to have a Howitzer in there, do you?"

"Not at the moment," John replied, hefting his shotgun and walking to the edge of the lot. Although the smoke made it hard to see, just from the screams and laughter alone, he knew Takara was just up the street. He heard the sound of a spray paint can being shaken behind him, and he knew Sam was already painting a devil's trap. It wasn't that he couldn't do these things; it was half the time he didn't want to, out of simple defiance. Apparently, when it came to Dean, that didn't matter as much.

"Jade, why don't you go across the street and make a devil's trap?" John suggested. "We'll get better line of site shots if we're covering both sides of the street."

"Oui, mon capitan," she replied, grabbing a can of spray paint and walking across the street. She was so carefree about this, she didn't even try and dodge the flaming tire that crossed her path, although it missed her by several feet. Was that part of her psychic thing too?

John glanced back to make sure Sam was still busy painting the trap before heading up the sidewalk, into the worst of the chaos. He wanted to get as close to Dean as possible before he had to shoot him. If he even had time to be that careful.

Sam drew the devil's trap, like he was taught, like he could draw in his sleep. He sometimes wondered what normal kids his age dreamed about. Video games and movies and ice cream sundae bars? He dreamed about demons and devil's traps, rock salt bullets and angry ghosts. His mother burning up, and things in the shadows too dark for him to see.

The air smelled like three different kinds of death, and he wondered how poisonous the air actually was. He also wondered if any of the screams were Dean's. He didn't think so, but they were so far away he wasn't sure.

Was he still alive? Sam felt like he had been asking this question since he was first kidnapped. He had no doubts at all that his brother would die for him. He would die for Dean too. Would his Dad? Sam honestly didn't know. He wanted to think so, but Dad was so busy on his hunt for the yellow eyed demon, he sometimes wondered if he remembered they were alive. Sam was kind of surprised he even responded to Dean's calls in this instance.

Maybe because it was Dean. He didn't fool himself into thinking Dean wasn't his favorite, 'cause he clearly was, but as far as Sam could tell, he was his favorite for all the wrong reasons. Dean was his favorite because he followed all his orders, because Dean would do anything to make Dad happy. The fact that Dad was rarely happy made Dean's need to please him all the worse. Sam found himself getting angry at Dad on Dean's behalf. Sam would have given anything if Dean would just push back against Dad sometime.

Maybe not now. Maybe he could save it for when he was free and not stuck with a demon cult or whatever the hell this was.

After the devil's trap, Sam made a circle of salt, an emergency precaution. He set up a bunch of glass bottles of holy water, also known as holy Molotov cocktails. He had guns with rock salt and silver shot, and he had a piece of paper with the exorcism rite on them, as well as a pocket recorder that played it on an endless loop. He was pretty sure he was going to be okay, and his Dad would be okay. He didn't know about Dean.

And he didn't know about that Jade woman either. Dad had lots of hunter friends, and some weirdo friends who were just strange. He'd never met this woman before, who claimed to be a psychic, and seemingly knew where Dean was. Sam could tell Dad didn't completely trust her. Then why was she here?

Sam made sure the safety was off and looked across the street to see how Jade was coming with the devil's trap. But she wasn't there. There was no devil's trap, either. Where did she go?

Sam looked up the street, but basically he saw nothing but smoke. There were some figures moving in all of it, but he couldn't tell one thing from another. Had the demons taken her already?

Sam took a shooting stance, and waited for something to emerge.

There was no challenge at all in knocking over a little sandbox of a town like this, or feasting on the inhabitants. But damn, it was fun.

Dean Winchester was an even better vessel than Evangeline could have hoped. Taraka was able to use his powers in full, and Dean's head didn't explode like an egg in the microwave. Yet. He wasn't even bleeding either. Again, yet. But signs were very positive he may be able to hold it together for a while.

With a gesture, Taraka yanked the soul out of three people driving away in a car. The windows shattered and the people seized as blood suddenly exploded out of their noses. Normally soul extraction wasn't quite that violent, but Taraka made it an art. Evangeline was content to just rip out throats and throw people around for shits and giggles. It was basically just a chance to stretch their legs.

A gunshot rang out, and Lucas stumbled. Taraka stopped walking, and held up his hand. "Hey, look. It's that asshole hunter." Taraka turned, and with a simple gesture he threw a car at John Winchester. It looked like he ducked into an alley, but it was hard to say, as Taraka threw a Buick, and that was a lot of excess vehicle. "C'mon, John! You really gonna shoot your own son? He's still in here, you know. Screaming like a little bitch, but here."

Evangeline went left, while Taraka walked down the center, and Jeremy went right. If Winchester was pinned down in an alley, they needed to finish him off before he could regroup.

Taraka sent the Buick flying aside with a wave of his hand, and an orb came flying out at the same time. It exploded before it hit the ground, and sprayed them all with salt, holy water, and silver. It burned like acid, and she couldn't help but scream and claw at the bubbling skin on her cheek. Jeremy was also screaming and grabbing his face, bent over against the wall. But even though Taraka's skin was bubbling a little, he seemed hardly effected. "Really? That's what you got? Penny ante bullshit like that? John, I am shocked. I deserve a hell of a lot more respect than that."

There was a gunshot, and Taraka raised his hand to throw John Winchester into next year …

… and time froze.

Evangeline was really confused. Taraka had never frozen time before. She had no idea it was in his power set.

But then Taraka looked around, confused. "What's going on?"

"You know what's hilarious here? If you stuck to the plan and took John, we woulda let you have him. His purpose is kinda done. But oh no, you had to go for the boys. Rookie mistake."

They all turned, and saw an Asian woman standing in the middle of the street.

Taraka raised his hand, shooting power straight at her, but she waved a hand, and suddenly Taraka wasn't shooting power at all. Evangeline was picking it up now. She wasn't human; she had no idea what she was. She was radiating a power field of a kind and intensity she had never encountered before. The woman fixed Taraka with a dismissive stare. "Really, chuckles? Mine's way bigger."

Jeremy made to charge, and the woman made a gun of her thumb and forefinger, and said, "Bang." Light exploded inside Jeremy's head, his eyeballs disappearing in a white flash before he dropped to the ground, a dead, smoking husk. "Haven't figured it out yet, huh? You were always short bus material, Taraka."

Taraka narrowed his eyes and scowled. "Who dares –"

"Oh, just shut up. You're never gonna impress me. It's making me sad for you." The Asian woman suddenly morphed into a slender brown haired man. Evangeline's mind went instantly to shapeshifter, but they didn't have the kind of power this guy was shedding. He was like a nuclear furnace, or maybe a quasar. "Have you wondered why you feel so good wearing Dean like a cheap suit? He's the Michael sword. He's Heaven's, we saw him first, we called dibs. You can't have him."

She exchanged a puzzled look with Taraka. "Heaven?" Taraka finally said. "Heaven's left Earth alone for –"

"Years, yeah, I know. Why do you think I came down here? To get away from that crap. Believe me, I usually don't do their dirty work, but Michael asked me to take care of this for him, and … eh, I owe him one. So he called in his chit." The man – the angel? – shrugged. "At least Mikey won't have anything on me later, when this apocalypse shit heats up, know what I'm saying?"

She looked at Taraka, who shook his head. "No," Evangeline replied.

He rolled his eyes. "Oh, you lesser demons are so dumb it hurts. The funny thing is, Sam was made for Luci. He'd have been perfect for you. But, I know, wrong age. All the zits and mood swings and unwanted hair of puberty. Whoever wants to go through that, am I right? The hilarious thing? He's gonna have a growth spurt a couple years down the road that'll put Goliath to shame. I mean, the guy's huge! A total gangly oaf. Luci always did go for the big ones, so I don't know why I was surprised."

"Who the hell are you?" Taraka demanded.

"Hmm. Well, Currently I'm going by Jade, the real fortune teller, but I guess I've torpedoed that identity now. It was a lot of fun too. Telling people they were gonna die masturbating in front of an informercial, and their bodies would only be recovered when the neighbors finally reported the smell. I mean, if you can't mess around with mortals, where's the fun?" Noticing they were all staring at him, he finally said, "Gabriel. But I'm gonna guess a brain trust such as yourself have no idea who I am."

"An angel?" Lucas guessed.

Gabriel shook his head. "Archangel, numb nuts. I mean I can pretty much end you as soon as look at you." And to prove his point, Lucas's eyes vaporized in a white light that shot out of his skull, and he keeled over into the street. "Frankly, this is no challenge at all. I'm really disappointed. I was expecting more."

"I'll kill you," Taraka proclaimed, and took one step towards him. Then he seemed to hit an invisible wall, and could go no further.

Gabriel grimaced. "Yeah. You and what eternal night god of the cosmos, asshat? Seriously, I am so out of your league I don't know how you can view me without a telescope. I mean, blowing up all your hosts? Total bush league. No wonder Hell was happy to be rid of you."

"Hey!" Evangeline exclaimed.

"Sadism Barbie, do I come down to where you work and slap the baby out of your mouth? No. So zip it."

She meant to castigate him for daring to denigrate her lord, but she couldn't open her mouth. She touched her lips, and found out why: they were actually zipped shut.

"I mean, if you idiots stuck to your original time table, I wouldn't have even had to put on my pants. Dean and Sam would have blown town, and you would've lost your shot. But oh no, you're as impatient as you are stupid." Gabriel threw up his hands in frustration. "I had brunch plans! My day is totally shot. And John Winchester has such a stick up his ass! I had no idea. It's actually kind of amazing Sam and Dean aren't screwed up worse. I was so tempted to turn him into hamster."

"Umm," Taraka said. She had no idea if he had a follow up to this.

"I'm not going to kill you," Gabriel said. "I just wanted to take a time out to let you know how dumb you are, because I don't think you've appreciated the depths of your own stupidity. Which is why you're gonna die. And, oh, FYI – it's not John that kills you. Everybody will think it is. But between you and me, while Lucifer likes 'em big, Mikey likes 'em efficient. You wanted a killing machine; boy howdy, you got one. Come on, Dean, take control and end this ass clown. I got things to do."

Gabriel then snapped his fingers, and two things happened simultaneous: he disappeared, and time restarted.

A bullet punched into Taraka's chest, and Taraka collapsed the nearest building in rage. Or at least part of it. The roof crumbled into rubble and slid like a rockslide into the alley, but it stopped two stories down. At best, Winchester was partially buried. Why did it stop?

As Taraka stumbled back, she saw something unprecedented happen (again). One of his eyes turned blue; the other remained black. But it wasn't Taraka looking out of it. Which should not have happened. In fact, she was pretty sure it was impossible. Dean should have been dead inside his meat suit by now.

But somehow he wasn't. She could see the recognition in his eye as Dean saw her. And this is when everything went horribly wrong.