Author's Notes: Ack. School starts on Monday. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter of this story put up by then! It's been a busy week or so, but I've actually been working on things for this story. As I thought, watching Supernatural has activated my muse again, or at least got her going. Always a plus! We'll see what happens. ;) Things personally aren't going AS well as I'd like, but certainly not as badly as they were before. Thanks for all the kindness! I hope you all enjoy this chapter just the same as the rest. Please don't forget to leave me a review letting me know what you thought!
Sam rolled over in his bed, fast asleep. Since having saved Dean, the dreams had stopped, giving him the peaceful rest that he had longed for. A couple days had passed since he and Dean had shared their moment in Bobby's living room, and in that time, things about the house proceeded normally, despite the uncomfortable tension between the younger hunter and Bobby. Dean remained completely unaware, and that was the way that Sam wanted to keep it. His brother was almost fully recovered, and that was the most important thing to him.
At some point in the middle of the night, Sam woke abruptly. Like before, he didn't feel tired in the slightest, and he didn't exactly understand why. His eyes stared into the darkness, where something felt…off. It almost felt like he was being watched. Slowly he sat up, scratching at his chest. He couldn't see anything in the dark, but he could feel it.
"Who's there?" he asked.
No response came at first. Then, after a few moments of silence, Sam heard a familiar voice say, "Meet me downstairs."
He rubbed his eyes, trying to figure out why he couldn't see anything, despite the fact that the moon outside should have cast some kind of glow in the room. For a second he hesitated, not feeling entirely comfortable leaving Dean alone, who was sleeping soundly in the bed next to him. But he needed to.
Slipping out of his bed, Sam padded across the wooden floor of the room into the hallway, and then down the stairs. The floorboards squeaked and groaned beneath his feet, and he swore that, with all the silence, that alone would wake up either his brother or Bobby. He waited at the bottom landing for a minute to make sure that nobody stirred above. When nobody came down, he turned his head to look across the entryway toward the sitting room. Nobody was in there, but the kitchen light was on, which poured across the floor and cast a glow on some of the items in the room. He slowly made his way toward the kitchen so as to give his eyes time to adjust to the change in brightness.
Standing next to the refrigerator with a bottle of water in her hand was Ruby. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain red shirt, over which she had a partially buttoned up black jacket. Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders.
She turned her attention to Sam. "Thought I'd give you some time with Dean before I came in and ruined your party."
"Normally I'd have some witty retort for this, but at the moment, I'm…well. Something." Sam slipped his hands into the pockets of his flannel pajama bottoms. "What's so important that it couldn't wait until morning? How'd you get in here anyway, Ruby? Bobby's got this place protected to the teeth."
"What, you don't want an update on what's going on out in the world? Sam, I know you haven't left the house since you saved your brother. Do you know what's happened since then?"
There was something about the way that Ruby said what she did that made Sam uncomfortable. Not to mention she had completely ignored his second question. He looked at her, unsure of what to ask so that he would get the appropriate answer. "I dunno, Ruby," he settled on saying. "Why don't you tell me?"
Ruby smiled faintly, almost in amusement. "Well, since you asked. You'll be happy to know that all those dozens of demons that you freed have spread out all over the United States. And on top of that, I found out that Lilith is on the move again. I think you've got her scared."
Sam blinked, and a disbelieving look appeared on his face. "I've got her scared. How?"
Ruby snorted. "God, Sam, how can you be so powerful and so clueless at the same time?" She shook her head. "You killed that crossroads demon and took the Colt. You used it to open the Devil's Gate, and you saved your brother's soul, which you successfully reunited with his body. You think that that all went unseen or unheard by Lilith? Guess again."
That should have been something he would expect, but Sam had been so focused on Dean that everything else fell to the wayside. His fervent need to save his brother had blinded him to all other issues…Lilith had to be more than aware now that he had a pretty strong grasp on his powers. It wouldn't surprise him that she was on the move again. But what was she doing?
"So, when you say on the move…do you mean she's coming after me, or what?"
"I already told you. You survived her attack, Sam. She's not coming after you, herself. She's gonna be sending demons after you whenever she gets the chance."
Sam refrained from rolling his eyes. Dryly, he said, "Last time you said that, I expected all kinds of demons to come crawling out of the woodwork, and all I managed to come across was that incubus. And I don't think it really gave a damn about me. Until I killed it, anyways."
Ruby's expression quickly became irritated. "Look, Sam. Just keep a watch out. Things could get bumpy when you and your brother leave. Dean was supposed to stay in Hell, and Lilith's probably real angry that you got him out."
"With your help."
"Yeah, and she probably knows that, too."
As weird as it felt, Sam wasn't all that worried. He remembered the look of sheer fear in Lilith's eyes when she had been unable to kill him, unable to use her powers on him. He didn't fear her as much as he did the demons that very well could have been coming after him right at that very moment. But he and Dean had dealt with that for years. They were prepared. If anything, they were better prepared now that Sam had his powers under his belt.
That brought a faint smirk to his lips.
"Don't get cocky," Ruby warned dryly. "You may have your powers, Sam, but there's a hell of a lot of demons out there. You can't take them all on at once."
"No, but I'm a lot more able than I was before."
Ruby smiled almost twistedly. "Mm, sure. You tell Dean yet?"
All it took were those words for his mood to crash. She obviously knew the answer, because she was staring at him in a near smug manner. Why she would feel that way, he didn't know. Then again, Sam almost never understood Ruby, her strange intentions, or her feelings. She was an enigma, and that bothered him sometimes. It felt like she was trying to pick at him.
"No," he confessed.
She took a brief sip of her water. Capping the bottle, she said, "Didn't think so."
"I'm going to," Sam insisted suddenly, petulantly. "But I wanted Dean to get better before he had to deal with it."
"You know how he's gonna take it. It's not going to be pretty." Ruby pursed her lips and eyed Sam. "Probably should have done it when he was weaker."
"You think I don't know this?" He was angry that it had been brought up, again. First Bobby, now Ruby. Both of them were making him feel bad for having done it, which rubbed him the wrong way, since Ruby had been the one to suggest it in the first place.
But then, Sam had been the one to listen. Nobody forced him to do it. He had nobody to blame but himself for being put in this situation.
He sighed. "Did you find your dagger yet?"
"No," Ruby admitted. "But I bet that what we thought before is right; it probably was taken for some kind of leverage. And assuming Lilith is involved is likely another safe bet. After all, she still wants you dead. But you've got the Colt now. I'm guessing that's what put her on the move."
It was weird to think that he did, in fact, have the Colt. Even Dean had been surprised that he had gotten a hold of it. Sam didn't exactly tell him the truth as to how he had gotten it, because that all tied in to his powers, and if Dean didn't know about those, then what was the point? The whole thing was a tangled web of lies, and now that Sam was being confronted with it, he felt horribly guilty. Anything to save Dean…even including lying to him about everything afterward.
"Well, she better look out," Sam muttered. "I'm tired of her killing innocent people and having her demons possess them, too. Too many lives have been lost because of her. And it's gonna stop."
"Ooh, look at you, getting all serious." Ruby smirked. "I'm getting chills, Sam." She snorted. "You'd probably want to keep your alert up from this point forward. I'd say it's safe to assume that pretty much anybody you run into could be a demon, looking to kill you or get the Colt from you. First there was Bela, and now there's this. You're gonna have your hands full."
"At least I'm not alone now."
Ruby paused. Her lighter attitude subsided quickly, and in its place came silence. She soon looked almost unconvinced, and even a little irritated. She sounded incredulous.
"You never were, Sam."
. . .
Dean pulled into the dimly lit parking lot, giving his brother a wide, almost playful, grin.
"All right, Sammy. We're here. Let's go get ourselves some drinks."
A few days had passed since Sam had spoken with Ruby in the middle of the night about what to expect in the near future. And in those days, Dean—who had become healthier and healthier by that point—grew antsy to go out into the community again. This was a surprise to Sam, given that when they had pizza delivered not too long ago, Dean had seemed positively frightened by the concept of interacting with the pizza guy. But his brother was an enigma all in himself, and some days he seemed outgoing and sociable, and then others he was quite the opposite.
Tonight seemed like the former. So, Sam decided to accompany him to the local pub, because like always, a good drink was usually the way to get Dean out of the house and feeling good. He looked better at that very moment than he had the entire time he was cooped up indoors. Sam chalked that up to the fact that Dean's night terrors had seemingly taken a break, and no longer did he sport large, dark circles under his eyes that normally had a bit of fear in them. Plus, he was more cheerful, his wounds had healed mostly, and he was acting more like his old self.
Things were still touch and go for the most part. Any time the subject of Hell was brought up, as before, Dean would still shoot it down. This was even from Bobby, who was genuinely concerned for Dean's well being, just as Sam was. But the older Winchester was having none of it, and at one point, had even gotten so angry about it that he didn't talk to either of them for an entire day. The house remained tense, but like with everything, it eventually just got swept under the rug to be dealt with later.
That was probably why Sam was excited about getting out of the house and just doing something normal and fun with his brother that didn't involve hunting or drama. They were both dressed casually, as they always were, with their boots, their jeans, their solid color cotton shirts and their button-up over-shirts. It helped them to fit in with the crowd at the Sioux County Pub, which they entered, looking for a place to sit. The décor inside was much like any other bar—majority of the building was done up with dark, varnished woods, including the walls, the bar itself, and the tables. The lighting was a little dim, all of it coming from small fixtures that hung from the somewhat high ceiling above, one over each table, several over the bar, and a cluster above the pair of pool tables in the far eastern corner of the room.
Dean gestured for Sam to get them a small, round table not too far from the bar. There was probably upwards of a dozen patrons in the place besides the two of them, giving the pub a cozier, more closely-knit ambiance. Everybody seemed to know one another because there were jokes and comments flying back and forth all over the place. Sam recalled coming here once with Dean and Bobby, but it had been at least two years ago. The event was fuzzy in his mind. The alcohol had probably done it to him.
It didn't take long for Dean to come back with two beers, and, taking a seat, he set them on top of the polished tabletop, looking at his brother with the same grin from before. Sam couldn't explain it, but seeing that grin was almost oddly comforting.
"Too bad there aren't any pretty chicks around to look at tonight," Dean commented with just a hint of disappointment in his voice. He swigged back some of his beer from the frothy mug. "Could've used some."
"There'll be more elsewhere some other day," Sam reassured him with a light chuckle. He sipped at his own beer. "The world always has pretty chicks for you. It's like a rule."
"And a damn good one, I might add."
Although silence broke out between them after that, it was obvious that neither one was particularly bothered by it. In fact, Sam and Dean sat there for several minutes completely quietly, either glancing at one another, drinking, or looking at the people around them.
Eventually Dean cleared his throat as a means of catching Sam's attention.
"You know," he began, "the bartender looked like he'd seen a ghost when I walked up to him and asked for drinks. You didn't tell anyone I was…"—he made the gesture of getting his neck sliced open and leaned in to say quietly—"dead, did you?"
"No," Sam said slowly, shaking his head. He couldn't help but made a slightly bothered face at the question. "Nobody knew that you were, except for me, Bobby, and—" he paused quickly. Not Ruby, he corrected himself. "Well, you know, just us …"
Dean raised an eyebrow and looked back over his shoulder toward the bartender in question. He was short, somewhat chubby, with peach fuzz for hair that was hidden beneath a trucker's hat. He was wiping down the countertop.
"Maybe he just spooks easy," Sam suggested. "Wouldn't be the first bartender like that. You know? Small town."
The older Winchester returned his gaze to his brother after having stared at the bartender for some time. He gave no response to the comment. Instead he took a drink, setting the mug back down on the smooth surface. There was a focused look on his face.
"Don't be so paranoid," Sam murmured with a shrug.
Dean seemed to take that to heart. He gave a nod. "Yeah, you're right. It's not like everyone out there's a…well, you know." He glanced around them. "A demon."
Suddenly, Ruby's words popped into Sam's head. It would be safe to assume anyone would be a demon. If that held true, then anyone in the pub at that moment could very well have been a demon. Sam's eyes darted around carefully, taking in the immediate location of the people there. There were three around the bar, including the bartender; four sitting around a table nearby; and then there were five at the pool tables—three at one and two at the other. Nobody looked particularly dangerous. But now that he had recalled what Ruby had said, it made things entirely different.
Don't be so paranoid, he reminded himself. Hadn't he just told Dean that?
Sam and Dean continued to drink, up until the point when it came time for refills. Dean moved to get up but Sam insisted on doing it himself, since the other had gotten them in the first place. He took the two empty mugs up to the bar after a light protest from his brother, and, setting them on its surface, he said:
"Two more beers?"
The short man in the trucker hat surfaced from far down the other end of the bar, two mugs already in his hands. Sam gave him a polite smile as he filled them up from under the tap.
"What're you boys doin' here?" the man asked conversationally. "Don't often get younger men travelin' through these parts."
"Oh, we're just…visiting a friend," Sam settled on saying. "We'll probably be leaving soon."
"Oh? Who's your friend? Probably know him, in a town like this." The man set the mugs on the counter, just below the bar.
"His name's Bobby," Sam offered tentatively. He didn't want to make too much of a connection, just for all of their safety. The less people knew about them all, the better. Especially at a time like this, when they would be preparing to uproot themselves soon.
"Oh, you mean Singer? He runs that auto yard, don't he?" The man, smiling in an oddly reminiscent way, lifted the mugs from the counter and set them on the bar. He, however, kept hold of the handles, preventing Sam from taking them. "Nice guy, Singer. But I hear he's into some weird things."
Something inside of Sam tensed up. He wanted to look at Dean, but he refrained from doing so. Instead he just pretended to look surprised. "Huh? Really? Weird. Never heard of it." He hoped that his tone conveyed his desire to not speak any further, and here he reached out for the drinks, but the older man kept his grip on them. That made Sam tense up even more.
Why were things so quiet all of the sudden, he wondered?
The tall hunter glanced over his shoulder, noticing that several of the patrons of the bar were gone, including the ones standing by the bar previously. He didn't know where they got off to…
What the man said next made his heart jump.
"Wouldn't be surprised if you were into that weird stuff, too."
When Sam turned back around to look at him, he gave a lightly surprised gasp and stumbled back. The shorter one's eyes were completely black, and there was a mischievous smirk on his face. Right at that moment Sam heard Dean call his name, and he turned his head. Each and every person sitting at the table near where the Winchesters were had gotten up, and all of them looked suspicious and malevolent. Dean was standing up now, too, going for the knife that he kept around his ankle.
In the split second that Sam had looked away, the barkeep reached out, gripped the loose jacket he was wearing, and brought him dangerously close, so they were nearly face-to-face. Sam could smell his putrid breath wash over his nostrils and it made him sick.
"Stupid move, Sam. You should have known we'd be waiting and watching for you and your brother to come out from your hiding place. You think we wouldn't notice?"
Sam struggled to free himself from the man's grasp. He nearly snarled as he said, "Let me go, you stupid—"
"Ah, ah! Play nice, little boy king, or we'll send your brother right back beyond the cast iron gates to Hell."
The barkeep turned his attention to the four individuals at the table, who were now fighting with Dean. There were three men and one woman, all of whom were moving in to grab at him, but none of whom could seemingly get close enough without him attempting to slice their limbs off.
"Back off!" Dean yelled.
"Bunch of lower level demons is all you are," Sam muttered to the man grasping hold of his jacket. "You don't even have any powers. If you did, you would have come after us no matter what."
"Oh, we can't all be like you, Sam," the man said, mock ruefully. He let him go in a sudden move that sent the taller hunter stumbling back into the waist-level bar that rested between two support columns just behind him. The demon jumped over the counter in a surprising display of agility for the body chosen. Just as he was about to attack, Sam recovered from the previous one, stuck his hand out warningly and said:
"You're right. You can't. So back off, or I'll make you regret it."
"Sam!" Dean shouted.
Dean's voice caught his younger brother's attention. Hand still extended, Sam realized that he couldn't use his powers without revealing to Dean that he had developed them. And that was something that he wasn't ready to do. That was a fight that he hadn't yet fully prepared for. He, however, kept his hand reaching outward, while he struggled to gracefully snatch the knife attached to his own calf. He managed to do so, but not quite as quickly or as nimbly as he would have liked. The demon was approaching him.
"Come on, Sammy," the barkeep said. "Why don't you use those powers of yours on us and show us what you're really capable of?"
Sam's attention was diverted to his brother nearby, who was moving in closer to him with his front still facing the four demons. They didn't look like they were trying to attack him now, which was what confused Sam. If they wanted to hurt the two Winchesters, they clearly had them outnumbered. Even with his powers, he didn't think that he and Dean could take all of them without some kind of repercussion, or concussion.
Soon Sam and Dean were back to back, surrounded by seven, maybe eight, demons—his mind was a little too strung out to try and count. His and his brother's knives were no use in a room full of supernaturally enhanced creatures like these.
Maybe he didn't have a choice.
"We can do this, Sam," Dean encouraged him.
There was a very brief wavering in his voice that Sam caught, and it worried him. Dean's voice had never wavered or stammered or anything like that before when they fought evil forces. That was when he also noticed that Dean was shaking. His entire body was shaking.
"Dean," Sam said.
"We can do this!" Dean repeated, louder and more forceful this time.
To Sam, it sounded almost as if he were trying to convince himself instead of him.
Despite the fear and panic that coursed through him because of what now stood before them as opposition, Sam actually felt more dread at the thought of Dean catching sight of him using his powers. Part of him thought it was horrible that he had seemingly gotten over this—or had told himself that he had—but was now once again suffering from the worry that came along with it. Hadn't he thought before that Dean would just have to accept it, since it was Sam's powers that had saved him in the first place? That without them, Dean would still be suffering torture in Hell?
It was that thought that managed to finally get Sam over the hump. He didn't have to be entirely on the offensive. In fact, he often said a good offense was an even better defense. And if he could just…
Within a moment he had his hands up, focusing intently on every evil, malignant force in the room. Like he had with the crossroads demon, Sam thought of freezing them in place. Sure enough, not but a second later all the demons struggled to move their hosts' feet and arms, but didn't manage to get anywhere. The barkeep in front of them looked incredibly frustrated.
"What a move, Sam, what a move! Trying to disable us, huh? Well, too bad we can break out of something like this!"
"I didn't do it," Sam lied bluntly. He saw how confused his brother looked. But what really caught his attention was the fact that Dean was still shaking like a leaf—and there was fear in his eyes that Sam hadn't seen in some time. It threatened to break his concentration, and so he tore his gaze away, looking to the barkeep.
"Like hell you didn't!" he said. "What d'you think you're doing? Let us go, or you're in for a world of hurt!"
As best he could, Sam tried to keep the demons in place. He could feel them struggling and could sense their overwhelming power attempting to overthrow his. If it hadn't been for his sudden chanting that broke out loudly inside the bar, he wouldn't have been able to hold them back. But that, combined with his power, seemed to do the trick.
"No!" one of the demons shouted suddenly. "No!"
Sam continued to chant loudly, speaking the Latin phrases clearly and firmly that would exorcise the demons from their hosts. The further into the chant he moved the more howling and screaming could be heard from the demons surrounding them, until finally, when he finished, a mass collection of thick, opaque black smoke clouds erupted from the bodies, where they dissipated into the ceiling. What surprised Sam the most was the sudden sensation of Dean moving in close to him, almost as if Sam would shield him from what was happening. He looked down at his brother and saw that he was still trembling violently.
After taking a moment to make sure that everything was said and done and that all of the demons in the bar had been exorcised, Sam returned to his brother, who was still standing in the same spot and who looked like he might be sick.
Sam asked worriedly, "Dean, you all right?"
It took Dean a moment to respond with, "No."