Coercion
Coffeemaniac
Rated T for violence, language and suggestive situations. Possible trigger warning but probably nothing to worry about. No slash.
Reviews are welcome. Feed the writer.
Season 3: Dean is scheduled for hell. Sam's powers haven't developed.
Setting: Ranch Head, Wyoming (near the center of the Devil's Gate built by Samuel Colt)
Part 7
Dean liked their plan and intended to follow through on it. While the town might be quiet at the moment, he knew it wouldn't stay that way. Duke would know the same thing and if he still wanted Dean's help, he'd have to produce something to prove Sam was still alive. Turning the blackmail scenario around on his captor made Dean feel better too. He was tired of being a prisoner and tired for being forced to hunt.
Shortly after Bobby sneaked out the back, a knock on the front door of the hotel room put the plan in motion. Dean opened up to let Duke stride in with his usual confidence.
"What do you know about demons?" Duke said without a greeting.
"They're from hell. Mostly they come topside to buy souls. Sometimes they're on a mission. Why?" Dean said.
"Corny Mullins, the clerk at the tool store says one of his customers threatened him. The guy, a stranger, was smoking inside the store and rummaging around, making a mess. Corny asked him to stop. He said the guy's eyes turned jet black and he threatened to tear Corny's head off."
Dean swallowed his worry. Demons were deadly and hard to kill. His own soul would belong to them soon, and it scared him to hear that one might be in town.
"Okay, first...Corny? Really?" Dean said. "And second, black eyes are a giveaway. Did 'Ole Corny smell sulfur before or after? That's something else to look for."
"Yeah. He said something about that. Thought maybe the guy was using matches to light up his cigarette."
"Demons are trouble," Dean said. "We know one and she has a knife that'll kill them but…if she hasn't shown up by now, I don't think she will. It's pretty much holy water and exorcism. We can make a trap that'll keep them prisoner but it's not permanent."
"You said cutting something's head off is a sure thing."
Dean shook his head. "Almost a sure thing. Doesn't work with demons. They'll just smoke out and find someone else to possess."
"That Latin chant you were teaching Myers, is that the exorcism?"
Dean nodded. "Yep. But, you have to trap them first. They're not going to sit still while you say the words."
"All righty then. Time to find us some demons, make that trap and get rid of them."
"Devil's Trap first, then lure them in. Exorcism. If you do it out of order, you're going to get killed. Finding them isn't that easy though. If you think someone's a demon, you can say 'Christo' and it might force their eyes to turn black. You're calling them out when you do that. You can sneak holy water into something and trick them into drinking it. That'll slow them down and give you an edge. Sprinkling them with holy water will get their attention but you'll have a fight on your hands."
"Grab your stuff," Duke said.
"Not so fast. It's been three days since you've said anything about Sam."
"He's fine."
The dismissive tone annoyed Dean. He planted his feet and folded his arms.
Duke glared at him. "What? I've talked to Ava. She's pissed about Eddie but your brother is alive and well."
Dean hoped the Sheriff couldn't hear his beating heart. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels with a shrug.
"I want a picture," Dean said. "Prove it to me."
Letting out a long suffering sigh, the Sheriff said, "Let me text her. She can send it."
Shaking his head, Dean said, "No." He grabbed the piece of stationary off the table and slammed it against Duke's chest. "I want a picture of Sam holding this."
"Maybe I should just call Ava and tell her to give your brother a reminder of what happens when you disobey."
"Don't threaten me. Picture, or no hunting. You want to go after demons without me, go ahead. You'll end up with your head on a pike but… no big deal to me."
"People could die while you're dicking around with this."
"Then you should get going."
"Jackass," Duke said.
After taking another moment, Duke agreed. He said he'd be back in an hour before slamming out of the hotel room.
Dean only hesitated for a moment. He still liked the plan he and Bobby concocted but he needed to make one change. He ran to the back bedroom. The window looked out on to the hotel patio. Bobby had moved one of the fake, standing trees about four feet to cover the view. If it had been within the first few days of capture, Dean was sure someone would have noticed but more than a week had passed, and that gave him the advantage of complacency.
He grabbed an old knit cap out of his bag. He ignored his heavy field jacket and put on a navy sweatshirt instead. He slipped the cap on, pulling it over his ears then climbed out the window. Carefully moving around the tree, he hunched slightly to cover his height then walked easily towards the street. If anyone was actually watching him, they would have caught Bobby by now so he wasn't worried about that. If any of the town's people noticed him coming out the window, they'd report it to Duke but, he was willing to risk it.
Coming around to the side street where Bobby had parked, he saw the older man sitting behind the wheel of his truck. Halfway down the street, Dean spotted Duke's cruiser. Walking confidently but keeping his shoulders down, Dean opened the passenger side door of the truck.
Bobby startled then cursed.
"What are you doing?" Bobby said.
"We're going to find Sam."
Dean scooted lower in the seat and pulled the visor down too. Bobby handed him a pair of cheap, plastic sunglasses.
"It's the middle of winter," Dean said.
"Still sunny out. Just put them on."
"All right, all right. Hey, does this thing have heat?"
"Yeah, here." Bobby started the engine.
When Duke pulled away from the curb, Bobby waited half a block then pulled out too.
"Don't let him see you," Dean said.
"I know how to tail someone. Just sit there."
"I'm not a good passenger."
Bobby nodded. Neither of them spoke again for a long time while they carefully trailed the Sheriff.
As promised, Bobby showed real skill in following the cruiser. It took patience and instincts to know when to speed up or slow down. Duke didn't seem to notice the old Chevy as he drove.
Dean stayed hunched low in the seat, deliberately not looking in the direction of the old farm road where he had last seen Sam. Duke continued driving on the narrow highway and didn't slow down for another three miles. His blinker started flashing and he slid into the turning lane. Bobby kept going straight. Dean fought the urge to object. He knew that following Duke down that road would draw instant attention. But, he hated it because they might lose sight of the police unit and not find it again.
After traveling several miles in the wrong direction, Bobby changed lanes and did a U-turn. He drove back to the narrow road and slowly turned on to it. If they met up with the cruiser, they'd change tactics. If Dean needed to beat Duke until he revealed Sam's location, he'd do it.
"All clear so far," Bobby said.
Only a short way down the road, Dean spotted Duke's car parked at the end of a paved driveway. Further back from the road, he could see a single level house. It was old but it looked like the front porch had been freshly painted. The house sat nestled in a crop of trees with woods pushed up to the back of it.
Bobby drove a mile up the road and pulled off into a field. He parked behind some trees but anyone looking would find it. Dean wasn't worried about that. If they failed now, Bobby's truck being found would be the least of their problems.
"Oh, hey," Dean said as they started to get out. "Duke said there might be demons in town. Be on the lookout."
"Well, thanks so much getting around to telling me."
Dean shrugged.
The ground crunched under his boots when Dean stepped out. Bobby joined him and they decided to walk through the tree cover to get back to the house.
"It is really cold out here," Dean said.
"Yep," Bobby said. "Reminds me of home."
Bobby lived in South Dakota so the Wyoming chill probably didn't bother him much. Dean never learned to appreciate bitter cold but Bobby always said he liked it.
"I think the temperature dropped since we left town," Dean said.
"Probably a winter storm coming. There are clouds away off. It's not too dry so we might see some snow before morning."
Walking across brittle leaves and twigs they stayed close to the trees as they ventured towards the old house. Dean doubted anyone was looking for him, doubted they had realized he escaped but there were no guarantees. Brian Myers might have dropped in for a visit and found the empty room. If he did then Duke would likely kill Sam or give the order for it.
When they saw the house they slowed down, creeping in closer. Dean wanted to surprise them. He expected that subduing Ava and the mayor would be simple enough. If they waited for Duke to get the photo and leave, then he and Bobby should be able to get to Sam and the coed without killing anyone.
SUPERNATURAL SUPERNATURAL SUPERNATURAL
Sam pushed his way into a hunter's cabin. Stumbling over the threshold, he found a small, wood enclosure. Whoever built it didn't bother with a floor so he lurched over cold, hard ground to a chair in the corner. A cot sat on the other side of the seven foot square. Anchored between the two pieces of furniture was an iron wood stove with a pipe extended through the ceiling.
The cot was bare, just a mattress with no sheets or blankets. Sam opened the door of the stove and found nothing but a clean interior. He sighed as he realized that the hunter who built it had either shut it down, or had yet to open it up for the season. On the floor near the door was a flip top container that resembled an old fashioned bread box. Sam lifted the lid hoping to find canned goods or cereal but the box contained a steak knife, two forks and a spoon; no food.
"Thanks for nothing," he said out loud.
Dizzy and exhausted, Sam collapsed into the chair and rubbed his feet. He hoped to keep the circulation going and generate some warmth. He fought for clarity through his loopy, disconnected brain. He still needed to get to the river.
Turning his attention to the immediate survival problem, Sam talked through it.
"You couldn't use the stove anyway. You might as well call Ava and just tell her where to find you."
Still it was nice to think about sitting next to the warm iron, smelling the burning wood and listening to it crackle.
"Okay, you're still shivering. That's a good thing…I think." A fog swept through his brain. He squeezed his hands into fists and pounded once against his thighs. "Focus, damn it. Shivering is good. Now, you have to get moving."
He refused to think about the throbbing muscle aches coursing through him. His ankles had mostly healed from the damage of the chains but his body felt bruised but dwelling on his misery wouldn't save him. Wishing for a sandwich or even a cold can of spam wouldn't accomplish anything either. Sam rubbed his arms and shoulders.
He glimpsed something under the cot. Not daring to hope too soon, he dropped to his knees and looked closer. He laughed out loud as he pulled a pair of old work boots out. They were crusty with mud and laden with frayed laces, but they were the most beautiful thing he'd seen in days.
"You might save my life."
Sam untied them and pulled them open. As he put the first one on, he felt the tightness and knew they were too small. But he pushed them on anyway until his toes crammed into the end, cramping at the tight fit. He loosened the laces but they still crushed his feet painfully.
More fog invaded his struggling brain so he banged his palm against his forehead. It hurt and made him dizzy. He swallowed, holding still until the moment passed.
"Okay, no hitting yourself in the head."
He squinted in the direction of the door, loathing the idea of going back outside. The relative shelter provided some relief, but it was completely indefensible, and an obvious place to look for him.
With the river still beckoning, he trained his attention on getting there.
"Whining won't fix things," he said.
He took a breath and headed back outside. Recoiling from the frigid air, he had to force himself to reset the door and jog away from the cabin.
As he rounded the small building he heard the sound of water. That's where he needed to go.
"Damn it," he said when his brain hazed over again.
The constant shivering made his other aches and pains worse. He was hungry and dizzy and wanted sleep more than anything. Remembering the cot, he wondered if he could take half an hour to close his eyes. A power nap to shake off the lethargy and then he'd be ready to face the task ahead. But, he couldn't do that. Not when the sound of the river called to him.
SUPERNATURAL SUPERNATURAL SUPERNATURAL
They watched Duke's cruiser for a while but it remained parked. Dean's muscles stiffened with each passing moment. He fought the urge to pace.
"All right, we've waited long enough," Dean said. "If you and me can't take one sheriff and two civilians then we're in the wrong line of work."
Bobby sighed. Then he nodded. "All right," he said. "Same plan. I'll head to the front door."
Dean started to walk around the house when he glimpsed something odd. Looking across the side yard, he spotted another cruiser. Dean whistled. When Bobby turned around he pointed towards the car.
Minimally, that meant one more person inside the house.
Bobby nodded then continued to make his way towards the porch.
As Dean approached from the wooded side, he noticed the freshly chopped lumber and the axe. The clearing was small but he could imagine sitting on the cement step during warmer weather. It had probably been peaceful there before opening the Devil's Gate turned Ranch Head into "monster central'.
Bobby's job was to knock on the front door. He needed to distract the people inside so that Dean could enter from the back and surprise them. Dean listened, heard the hard knock from Bobby's hand then twisted the doorknob, glad to find it unlocked.
He mounted the step then walked in through the kitchen. Pulling off the knit cap, Dean scratched his head. He needed a moment to process what he was seeing.
Lying prone in the middle of the kitchen floor was Deputy Brian Myers. Blood had pooled around his skull. Dean set the cap on the table and approached carefully to check for a pulse. He was glad to find one but he wondered what Brian had done to become a victim in this kidnapping.
Dean rose while keeping his attention on the entry into the kitchen. He moved towards the wall and peered around it.
Marco Rivera stood at the front door talking to Bobby. He had positioned himself to block Bobby's view into the living room, and for good reason. Duke Davis sat on the couch with Ava standing over him. She held a gun and wore a smile. His arms were behind him, probably bound.
Marco slammed the door closed in Bobby's face then turned to Ava.
"Now what?"
"We should have torn his spine through his chest," Ava said. "But, we don't need another body to deal with."
Dean froze, terrified that they had killed Sam.
"Have you gone crazy? He's just lost," Marco said.
"He came to the wrong house, didn't he?" Ava said. "That girl downstairs is starting to stink up the place. What if he smelled it?"
The Sheriff's gaze shifted between them. Dean cursed to himself. Kristen, the coed, was dead. But a shiver of relief followed that they hadn't admitted to murdering his brother.
"You didn't have to kill her," Marco said. "No one was supposed to…"
"You're pathetic," Ava said.
"She was innocent," Duke said. He looked at Ava.
"Christo," he said.
Ava's eyes changed to black. She cocked her head and growled low in her throat.
Marco sputtered in shock as he backed away from her.
"She's a demon," Duke said.
"I've been here the whole time," Marco said, sounding like he didn't believe it.
"You missed the signs, I guess...if there are signs...I don't know." Duke shook his head.
Marco looked at his sister. "Ava?"
"Not since the farm house," she said. "I killed her useless husband, and made Sam Winchester my bitch."
Her self-satisfied tone made Dean's stomach clench.
"What about Deputy Myers?" Duke said.
Wait, Dean thought, what about Myers? He spun around to find the deputy standing behind him with coal, black eyes and a smirk turning his lips.
"Winchester," he said. "I can't wait to take you to the pit."
Brian leaped at him, knocking him backward and propelling both of them into the living room. Dean grunted as they hit the floor. The gun was trapped between them and he couldn't free his arms to strike any blows. Powered by demon strength, the deputy managed to roll them over so he was on top of Dean. Dean pushed back, bringing his legs up and around him then turning them again. He worked the flask out. Just as he freed his arm, Brian punched him in the cheek. Pain blossomed up and blurred his sight. Dean curled his arm and dumped holy water down the demon's back. Brian screamed and pulled away as his skin melted. Dean rolled in the other direction.
The sound of two gunshots pushed Dean to his feet. As he straightened he watched Ava shove Duke off her. He guessed the Sheriff must have tried to rush her. She started kicking her way up from the floor and Bobby doused her with holy water. She screamed out while her face burned. Bobby grabbed her arm and dragged her out the door, dropping her on to the front porch while she squirmed and thrashed.
"Get the other one," Bobby said.
Dean gripped the flailing deputy by both wrists and started pulling him towards the door. Bobby hit him with more holy water and his skin sizzled.
"Get him in the circle," Bobby said.
Screaming in fury Ava glared at them with black eyes blazing. Brian landed next to her, his skin still smoking and his face painted with grim understanding.
Panting, his voice shaking, Marco said, "What is this? I don't understand."
Dean had forgotten about him. The Mayor was kneeling next to Duke who lay on his back, one arm outstretched, the other trapped beneath his body. Two bullet holes ruined his chest and his eyes were frozen open as if shocked by it.
"She's a demon. Both of them are," Dean said.
"No, it's Ava…it's my sister," Marco said then he looked down at the dead sheriff. "Tell them, Duke."
"She's not your sister anymore. And Duke isn't saying anything." Dean said.
Dean wondered at the regret he felt over the sheriff's death. He didn't know why he cared. But, he couldn't dwell on it, not when Sam was still missing.
"Where's Sam?" Dean said. Bobby stood beside him wearing a violent glare.
"Dead," Ava said and Dean's chest clenched.
"No, he's not," Marco said. "He got away. The cold might have killed him by now but we didn't. She…she was really angry. Brian…or…him…" He nodded towards the devil's trap. "Said they needed Sam to get to you."
Dean digested that, hating that humans and monsters alike thought they could use Sam against him.
Needing a distraction, he looked at Bobby. "Devil's Trap?"
"There was paint on the porch," Bobby said as he straightened his ball cap. "Soon as I smelled the sulfur, I knew we'd need it."
Dean patted his arm gratefully. "I have to find Sam. Do you have this?"
"Exorcisms are my specialty. Go find your brother."
"No," Ava said, fury etched in every line of her face.
"Yes," Bobby said.
Dean spared a quick glance at Duke before he headed out the back door towards the woods. He could hear Bobby's voice as he started speaking Latin.
"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii…"