AN: Hi! Long time no see, right? But in my defense...well I don't really have a defence...
Silenthowler: Thanks so much! I know, poor Bobby! And Dean and Gabe's bromance is my favorite! Thanks, I enjoyed your review!
What you see in the shadows: Actually, I was trying to show the contrast between Dean and Alistair's situations. I'm so happy you caught that! thanks!
Babyreaper: Thanks. The planning starts in this chapter. Hope you enjoy!
Lanteaddicted: thanks for the review!
Onwards with the chapter...And the plot thickens...
Chapter 12
The night was eerily silent; not even a whisper of the wind or the hooting of owls or the sounds of nocturnal animals interrupted the disturbing quiet. It was doubtlessly the quiet before the storm.
The lonesome crossroad was faintly illuminated by the crystal moonlight. Tall, dark trees stretched across the horizon and kept vigil over the forsaken wilderness. The watchful moon was the sole witness to all happenings that went on behind the dark curtain of night.
Two figures stood on either side of the juncture, rigid and unmoving. The air seemed to cackle with sizzling tension, the blazing battle-lines were scorched in the ground. The figures scrutinized each other with practiced precision, both waiting for the other to make a move.
One of them, the slight silhouette of a woman, fidgeted her fingers nervously but refused to lower her steady gaze. The other, with a taller and somewhat broader build that could only belong to a man, stood poised and confident like a soldier. Both were tensed and ready to defend at the slightest notice.
The stand-off was interrupted by a hint of a maniacal grin crossing the man's shadowed face. "Well, what do you say, darling? Surely you can see the benefits of accepting our offer."
The woman was hesitant. "I'm risking too much by taking your offer. What's in it for me?"
The man sneered. "Your life. Don't think you have the power to negotiate, love. I could just kill you now and be done with it. We have many others who would be willing to do the job." His eyes flashed black dangerously, the twin, dark voids revealing his true nature. The threat hung in the air, heavy and stifling.
The woman shuddered in fear. The threat was hardly empty, she knew. He would surely follow through with it if she dared to refuse. 'I really didn't have a choice, do I?' Her contemplations were confirmed soon enough.
"You have no choice. Should you refuse though, I would be happy to persuade you myself." The man smirked maliciously causing the woman to tremble in fright. She was well aware of his methods of persuasion. He was one of Alistair's finest soldiers, after all.
"Fine. I'll do it." The woman reluctantly agreed.
"Excellent! I knew you would see reason. But be sure to succeed, because the punishment of failure shall be dealt out by the boss himself. And you don't want that, do you?"
"I can do it, trust me. I already have the Winchesters eating out of my hand." She replied. Her discomfort was evident.
"Good. I look forward to getting the good news."
The man departed silently and the woman was left alone in the darkness. Her eyes flickered black, dark as a moonless night, and she made up her mind. She knew that there was only one road left for her to take. She pulled out her cell-phone and dialed a memorised number. Self-preservation was the most dominant trait among her kind, after all.
The early morning sun was just breaking out at the horizon and was welcomed by the melodious chirping of birds. A new dawn stood at the vestibule of a new day and cheerily announced the arrival of a brand new morning for everyone but Sam Winchester. His morning had arrived a lot earlier than dawn.
His fingers flew over the keys of his laptop as he worked and his worry only seemed to increase with every passing second. Several of Bobby's priceless books lay scattered in front of him but offered no sense of enlightenment. A sigh escaped his lips and he kneaded the bridge of his nose in frustration. 'This is so much worse than I thought…'
Sam abruptly stood up and prepared another cup of coffee; it was already his third cup but for once, he was too tired to care about the consequences of imbibing such enormous amounts of the beverage. He was much too occupied with his own churning thoughts, which were currently spanning the length and breadth of heaven, hell and earth, to be evaluating his caffeine-intake.
He went over the call he had received in the middle of the night and tried to integrate everything he knew of the situation. His head felt heavy, saturated as it was with too many facts, riddles, possibilities, information and the ever-present worry of the future.
As he chugged down the last of the coffee, his reverie was disrupted by the sound of his brother's footsteps coming down the stairs. A moment later, his brother appeared through the kitchen door, yawning and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Morning, Sammy. You're up early…" Dean mumbled before grabbing the coffee pot off the table and pouring himself a mug.
Sam resisted countering with a 'So are you'. Dean hardly got any sleep these days anyway.
"Umm…Sam? What exactly are you up to at six in the morning?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at the mess that was the kitchen table.
"Yeah…about that. You should sit down for this." Sam answered nervously.
"We're in the middle of the apocalypse, Sammy. I doubt there's much that can shock me anymore." Dean rebutted with a snort.
"I suppose, but you should sit down just the same." Sam chuckled as Dean made an elaborate show of rolling his eyes and collapsing on a chair with an exasperated sigh.
"Well, what's the verdict?" Dean asked curiously. He scrutinised his little brother carefully, taking in the dark bruises beneath the eyes, the messy, disheveled hair and the slight smudge of blood on the lower lip from where Sam had been worrying it with his teeth. These evidences of Sam's anxiety were more than enough to chase his sleepiness away and replace it with the rigidness of the military routine for which he had been trained.
"Sam…?"Dean asked, impatient to get to the root of the problem.
"I got a call last night...from Ruby." Sam broke off the sentence and glanced at Dean apprehensively. Dean stifled his instinctive shout and made a concentrated effort not to erupt in a furious rage. 'Damn it, Sam. Ruby again….?' The eldest Winchester willed his stringent training into action and accordingly reined his anger in. He ordered himself not to react. He would get all the information from Sam first and then proceed to knocking some sense into him.
"Go on." Dean said, much to the surprise of his brother. Sam raised an eyebrow at the encouragement and continued.
"Demons…they're up to something. Something big. They're gathering in Wyoming." Sam paused to let the information sink in. Dean frowned and then his eyes widened as he made the connection.
"Wyoming…..you don't think…the Devil's Gate….."
"Yeah. They're opening it. Again."
"But…they can't Sam. We have the Colt. It's the only thing that would open the gate."
"Well, I guess it's not the only thing, afterall."
"But how?"
"Lucifer." The single word chilled him down to the bone.
Sam spoke up again."Figures the Devil could open the Devil's Gate."
"Yeah… What else did Ruby say?"
"Apparently, the key to opening the doorway to hell is an ancient ritual. Lucifer will perform it on the next full moon which is three days from today. Probably to raise his army from hell."
Dean sighed in frustration and rubbed his eyes. The perfect start to a day…demons, hell and Lucifer…three words that could only spell disaster.
"So, what's the plan?"
It was already late evening when the human members of Team Free Will gathered at their unanimously agreed upon headquarters; Bobby's kitchen. Despite the stars twinkling merrily in the vast, calming expanse of the night sky, the atmosphere inside the house was in severe contrast with Mother Nature.
They were clearly tensed and agitated. A despairing sense of anticipation hung in the air.
"You two idgets sure about this?"
"It's not like we have a choice, Bobby." Sam replied with a sigh.
"Don't worry, Bobby. We'll gank the bastard nice and easy and be back in no time." Dean assured the worried hunter with his cocky signature smirk. Then again, Dean had already mastered the art of manipulating his expressions; a very useful skill while playing poker. Inside, Dean was quite worried about the outcome of their quest and a lot less confident of its success.
"You don't even know if it will work, you idgets!" Bobby exploded, his worry poorly concealed as anger.
"It's worth a shot." Sam answered passively. The half-empty beer bottle in his hand trembled slightly and he tried to stop his imperceptible shivering. He was scared, he was terrified and he didn't want to die. But some things just had to be done. Sometimes there was no other choice.
Sam glanced up hesitantly and met his brother's eyes. A single look passed between the two brothers and it was more than sufficient to convey an entire conversation. They knew each just as well as they knew their own selves; maybe even better. Like two halves of a whole, they were tuned to interpret each glance, each tone, each twitch of the other as easily as if reading a book.
This moment was a perfect evidence of the bond that the two shared. As Sam gazed into his big brother's eyes, he felt as if a curtain had been lifted from over him, leaving him bare and exposed to Dean's perusal. He instinctively knew that Dean could easily see the depth of the sea of emotions flooding his mind and body. And like a mirror, he could glimpse his brother's soul through his eyes as well. One look, just a single moment of the collision of their gazes, was enough to allow them access to each other's thoughts.
"I'm scared, Dean."
"I know, Sammy, I know. But we'll get through this."
"But what if we don't? Lucifer….he's a powerful enemy….what if our plan doesn't work?"
"…..well, then atleast we'll be together….."
"I just got you back, Dean. I can't lose you again!"
"I'm not going anywhere, little brother. Whatever happens, we'll see it through to the end. Together."
Their silent conversation was interrupted by Bobby. "You boys sure you don't want me to come?"
"Nah." Dean answered. "No reason for all of us to jump into the fire together. Besides, someone needs to hold the fort."
"I still think you two should wait for the pigeons to get back. Did you try calling them again?"
"Yeah. Still not answering." Sam sighed in exhaustion. "Cas did say they might take a while. Anyhow, the full moon is only a couple of days away. We're running out of time."
Bobby could only nod in resignation. With that, the hunters retired to rest. Both the Winchesters lay on their respective beds, restless with the anticipation of the coming days, hoping against all hope that they would get away with their lives. The night passed with nervousness, anxiety and contemplations of the trials and tribulations that stood before them.
The Winchester boys loaded the impala with a variety of weaponry and other assorted items they would require for their trip. As Dean slammed the trunk of the car, Bobby greeted him with a nod and clapped his shoulder.
"Take care of yourself and your brother, alright?" Bobby said with worry saturating his gruff voice.
"You got it."
After bidding the elder hunter farewell, the boys got into the impala and the journey began. As Dean pulled out of the salvage yard, his thoughts flew as swiftly as the road beneath the wheels of the impala. The upcoming confrontation weighed heavily on his mind. They were going to clash with the Devil himself. He wasn't foolish enough to think that there was any guarantee that they would live to see through this. He could only hope that there was some way to save Sam, unlikely as it was.
Lucifer was the Morningstar, one of the oldest beings in existence, a fallen archangel; and all that stood between him and the end of the world as they knew it were two frail humans. The only weapon they had was a rusty, ancient gun; the Colt. Yeah, we're doomed.
Dean glanced at his brother from the corner of his eyes. Sam was staring out of the window unseeingly, drumming his fingers on the dashboard, a habit that always betrayed his nervousness. Every time Sam's body shuddered in fear, he felt his own heart clench in helplessness too. He knew that Sam was terrified; and rightly so. He was Lucifer's intended vessel, afterall. And instead of eluding Lucifer, they were running towards the Devil's direction. He might as well gift-wrap Sam and deliver him to Lucifer.
But ofcourse, Sam refused to listen to reason and insisted on coming with him just to watch him shoot the Devil with the Colt. Dean was willing to lay down his own life to stop the Devil, but he'd be damned before he let Sam die as well. But as always, he had given up on convincing Sam to stay with Bobby as soon as Sammy had pulled out the dreaded 'puppy-dog eyes'. Damn cheater…
Dean wondered if he was making a fatal mistake. He doubted Lucifer would bow down in front of the mystical powers of the 'puppy-dog eyes' like he had. But then, he knew that he had never been able to say no to his little brother.
But would his weakness lead to Sam's demise as well?
AN: So...confused? Yeah, me too. But don't worry, it will all make sense later...I hope...