AN: Here's the next chapter of Tryst with Perdition for your reading pleasure. Enjoy!
silenthowler: umm...wow! masterpiece? really? Thanks so much! and as for pitying the demon...what can I say. I'm evil!
what you see in the shadows: thank you so much! Your reviews really boost my self esteem!
babyreaper: sorry for making your fears come true. But don't worry and keep holding on and I'm sure dean will get through! btw Christopher Heyerdahl's my fav Alistair too!
neah joe: thanks for dropping by your review!
An action-packed chapter filled with our fav brothers as promised!
Chapter 14
The late afternoon sun lent its last, fading rays to the world as the fast approaching night crept over the opposite horizon. The evening sky was decorated with waves of colours in different hues of blue, indigo, red, yellow, orange and gold. A few early stars blinked in the expanse, peeking from behind the soft edges of the cotton-like clouds.
The Winchester brothers sped down the open road in their beloved impala, the sole living beings to be seen in the vast, barren land that lay on either side of their path. The only colours to be seen in the distance were shades of dull brown with bare specks of faded green the only sign of sparse vegetation.
There was a strange, lonely beauty in the dry, abandoned wasteland that stretched before them. The setting sun offered its last bouts of light and warmth making the bare soil appear to be a dull gold. A few bleak, leafless, dying trees leaned at random intervals, casting long, protective shadows that were fast fading. The fast approaching darkness seemed to drain the life out of the picturesque desert rendering it cold and haunted.
'It's like the last glimpse of beauty before going blind, or well, in our case, being dead.' Sam thought morosely. He wondered, yet again, how it was that they always ended up in death-wish, martyrdom-inducing situations.
What was it that made them so special? Why were the last of the Winchesters singled out from billions of human beings to spearhead the apocalypse? Why were they chosen to be the vessels of the two most majestic as well as terrifying archangels?
'Or rather, why was I condemned to be The Devil's vessel? Where did I go wrong?' For as far as he could remember, Sam had been a good person. As a child, he had believed in the existence of angels and a divine entity and had often prayed for the safety and well-being of his family. He had been an obedient son, at least in the initial years and had taken care to be well-mannered and polite.
His adolescent years had been much more turbulent but even all the evil he had witnessed and hunted had not shaken his faith in God. He still prayed for the security of his family and hoped for miracles. Though his relationship with his father had been less than amicable, he still loved him and tried to look out for him. He hunted the supernatural world and saved lives. He accepted the possibility of his own death for the sake of saving nameless strangers in nameless towns. He tried to be kind and compassionate and loved his elder brother more than anything else.
Was this a punishment for leaving his family and running away to Stanford? But he hadn't meant to abandon his family. He had just wanted to pursue his own dreams; to do something for himself, for a change, after spending his entire life servicing others. He had his own dreams; dreams of a normal life, a fulfilling job as a lawyer, a white picketed house, a beloved wife, maybe a couple of kids and a dog…he had just wanted a chance to live his own life as he saw fit. What was so wrong about that?
Regardless, a little selfishness as a character flaw hardly likened him to be the Devil's vessel. Then why? Was this an unstoppable, predetermined plan of destiny? Could he have done anything to prevent it?
He sighed in frustration at the jumble of questions for which he had no means of unearthing the answers. Dean glanced at him from the driver's seat with a questioning eyebrow raised in response to Sam's irritated sigh. Sam just shook his head mildly in negation and went back to staring listlessly out of the impala's window.
By now night had truly fallen and plenty of stars had abandoned their hiding places to blink invitingly at their viewers. The sky was clear and cloudless and the waxing moon was lending a silver glow to the darkness. Tomorrow it would be a full, round disk marking the full moon night; the night that would possibly end with their deaths.
Sam shook his head to rid himself of his pessimistic thoughts. It was a beautiful night; too beautiful to be wasted on sorrow and fear, especially if it might be their last. He looked at the twinkling stars again and with an idea forming in his mind, he addressed his brother.
"Hey, Dean…?"
"Hmm…?"
"Remember the time when we stopped in the middle of the night once to watch a meteor shower?"
"Umm…yeah. Don't think there's one today though…"
"No reason we can't indulge in star gazing." Sam replied with a grin.
"Star gazing…really, Sam? Do you want to hold hands and talk about our eternal brotherhood and love for each other too?" Dean whined.
"Oh come on, Dean. Just like old times!" And of course Dean could never resist Sam's genuine, dimpled smile.
"Damn…alright, you big girl. Let's get out and stare at some boring, unmoving, unchanging stars if it makes you so happy." Dean exclaimed before parking the car at the edge of the dirt road.
The brothers exited the car together and unanimously decided to perch on the bonnet of the vehicle. The night was silent, no living being in sight for miles around. Yet again, it was just the two; the two of them against the world.
They sat in silence, not needing words to communicate. Sam leaned back comfortably and sighed in contentment. After a moment, Dean joined him too, purposely nudging him with his elbow; a silent declaration that Sam was not alone, that Dean would stand beside him, always.
A half an hour later, the elder brother dared to break the temporary peace and quiet, knowing that their impossible situation could not be ignored.
"It'll be okay, Sam. You'll see. We'll get through this." Dean assured his younger brother with as much confidence as he could muster.
"…How…?" A minute passed before the reply was uttered.
"Well, either we will succeed in killing the Devil…."
Sam let out an involuntary snort at the sheer improbability of the statement. Dean didn't bother admonishing him, fully aware of his own thoughts that were tinged with disbelief.
"….or we'll die trying to save the world…." Dean finished with an unconcerned shrug that conveyed that he had already accepted the plausible outcome of their endeavor and was ready to lay down his life in the hopes of cleaning the mess that they had unintentionally created.
Dean heard Sam's breathing hitch just a little with emotion and felt a wave of sadness engulf him.
"Are you scared?" Dean asked, feeling the weight of the responsibilities of a big brother and begged hopelessly for a way to spare the little boy he had sworn to protect so long ago.
"A little bit. I…I don't want us to die, obviously, but….but we have to try. We have to atleast attempt to fix our mistakes." Sam answered with conviction. "Besides, we'll be together, won't we?"
"Yeah…" Dean replied easily. "Together….till death does us apart. Damn, Bobby's right. We are like a married couple."
Sam burst out laughing and Dean followed soon after. The solitary night echoed with the brothers' joviality and merriment. And for a while, everything was alright.
The next afternoon, the brothers finally arrived at their destination. They checked themselves in an obscure motel just outside the town limits and then proceeded to map out and survey the graveyard where the ritual was to take place. Suspecting that the town was already infested with demons, they only hoped that their protection charms would conceal them from the demons as well.
They returned to their room in a few hours having planned their course of action for the night. Deciding to nap for a few hours, they surrendered themselves to some much needed rest. Dean was shaken awake by his brother a few hours later.
"Dean, it's time."
Dean gladly returned to the land of the awake, grateful for being rescued from some dark, terrible nightmare he couldn't remember anymore. He glanced at his brother, a quick 'thanks' escaping his lips when he noticed Sam's countenance.
Sam's face was ashen in the pale moonlight, his hair messy and pulled in different directions. He obviously hadn't been able to get much sleep. Dean immediately felt guilty for not having woken up to assist his brother.
"Sam…"
"I'm okay, Dean. It was just a bad dream, that's all. It's fine."
"You sure?
"Yeah…come on. It's almost an hour till midnight. Time to go." With that, Sam got up from Dean's bed and began getting ready for what he hoped was their last confrontation with the Devil.
Dean dragged himself off the bed too, and loaded himself with various kinds of artillery. He gripped The Colt tightly in his hand; their last hope. He spared a glance towards his brother and the brothers exchanged a significant look. Dean nodded and tucked the weapon at the back of his jeans, grabbed the keys of the impala and then walked out of the room, knowing that his brother was at his side. Sam shut the door behind them with an ominous bang.
The brothers sneaked into the cemetery and immediately took cover behind the wild shrubbery. They crept onwards, their senses alert and sensitive to the slightest hint of the enemy. Gradually, they reached a dilapidated corner of the necropolis, littered with crumbling gravestones and dried leaves, and they knew that they had found their target.
About a dozen demons stood in the clearing, apparently waiting for something. It seemed that perhaps Lucifer had yet to arrive. Their greatest advantage lay in the fact that the demons were unable to sense their presence, thanks to some of Gabriel's suspicious but effective powers. They wouldn't hide them from Lucifer, but then, they wouldn't need to, considering that they planned to shoot him with a gun.
They should have known. When had things ever been easy for them? Their painfully simple plan went horribly wrong. And it wasn't even The Devil who had sabotaged the plan. The Devil hadn't even shown up at all!
It was the demons, just the damn demons. Somehow, the Demons knew that they were coming. Somehow, they were expecting them. It was all a trap, a farce, a sham. The demons were not awaiting the ritual; they were awaiting the capture of the Winchesters.
The brothers didn't know what had gone wrong. Their vigil had erupted in such a commotion that they hadn't even had time to be surprised. The graveyard had exploded in an outbreak of fire and demons and blasts. The shell-shocked Winchesters didn't stand a chance.
Amidst the upheaval, Dean tried to reach out to Sam but his efforts were all in vain. Restraining arms, invisible shackles and impenetrable walls of fire ensnared him and held him captive. He struggled to break free but was oppressed and knocked down. His eyes desperately searched for his brother.
"SAM!...SAM!..."
"DEAN…"
Sam's pained shriek echoed in the mayhem, drowning all the other chaos until it was the only thing Dean could focus on. Sam's voice tore through him, the fear in his cry plundered him.
Slowly, a fallen silhouette came into his focus, a few paces in front of him. It was achingly familiar, despite the features being shrouded in shadows.
"SAM!" Dean hollered and fought to throw off his captors again. His brother lay motionless on the ground, knocked out cold by their cruel captors.
Then, a figure appeared in front of him, blocking the view of his unconscious brother. The man…demon…sneered down at him and then kicked him in his side causing him to fold into himself in pain. Dean raised his head in defiance and glared at his abuser, trying not to disclose his pain.
A vague, forgotten memory called out to him and he studied his captor carefully. He had never seen the face before, he was sure, and yet something about his cold, condescending, haughty expression struck a nerve. His intuition was soon confirmed.
"Dean Winchester! We meet again. I wish I could say that it's good to see you again, but well, I'd be lying."
Realisation suddenly clicked in his mind.
"Kraven." Dean spat out in distaste.
'Ah, you remember me then. Well, unfortunately for you, we'll be seeing a lot more of each other. So let's go now, shall we? Master is waiting." Kraven smirked maliciously.
Dean barely had time to experience the fear of being Alistair's captive again before a sharp hit to the back of his head incapacitated him and he surrendered to the cold, harsh darkness.
AN: SO...comments? thoughts? views? I'd love to hear them!
Also, sorry for introducing the new oc. If it bothers you, don't worry. He's just playing a minor, insignificant role.