Author's note:
This chapter might be triggery to anyone who has had to deal with religious fantaticism.
There is also a brief, very brief, graphic description of decomposition.
A suicide is also mentioned in this chapter.
Chapter Six
One year, and more than 2000 miles away from New York City, John Winchester turned right to take a break at a roadside diner. He had been driving for so long that even he, who was more used to driving than any NASCAR driver, felt sore.
The Impala let out a low rumble as it came to a halt in the parking lot. John let the car idle until the last couple of tones in Enter Sandman by Metallica played out and the mix tape ended. Next to him sat his oldest son, Dean, and looked out of the window, seemingly in deep thought.
"Let's eat," said John loudly and opened the door. Dean punched Sam, who was snoring in the back seat, awake, and left the car as well.
John, Sam and Dean entered the heavily air conditioned diner and looked for a table. The diner was surprisingly full. Conservatively dressed people of all ages were sitting in groups around every table, eating and chatting loudly.
A stressed looking waitress with a dirty apron approached them; "sorry about the noise!" she said and gestured for them to take place at a table that had just gotten vacated, "everyone came fresh from the sermon".
"That's alright," said John and took place across from Sam and Dean, facing the door.
"You just raise your voices when you've decided on something okay?" said the waitress and hurried to the next to table.
Dean opened the blue menu card and tried to decide on something to eat. Everything on the list sounded appealing to his empty stomach. They had been on the road the last 24 hours after finishing a hunt in Louisiana.
The hunt had been easy, almost disappointedly so. They had cleaned out a nest of vampires that had been feeding on the homeless and then dropped the bodies in the river. All the three Winchesters had had to do was connect the parts of the river where the bodies had been found and search for any dark, quiet, place that could host a family of vampires. It had only taken them a couple of hours to track them back to their breeding ground. The kill had been easy and effortless; the vampires had all been juvenile and unaware of the true extend of their power.
Dean yawned and decided to just go with a safe choice and pick the bacon cheeseburger. Having decided upon his order he leaned back in the chair and studied the other people in the diner. Across the room a heavyset woman with blonde, curly, hair was applying ketchup to her son's sandwich with one hand and talking on the phone with the other. From her neck dangled a silver chain with a heavy cross at the end.
Dean watched the light reflect on the cross. He had been more nightmare-free the past year than he had been his entire life, and considering all the damage his head had taken from that draugr hunt in Maine that really was quite something. Dean still hadn't told anyone but the, supposedly, angel cleaning lady that seemed to live inside his melon, partly because he wasn't sure he really believed it himself yet.
Dean knew that Sam would probably wet himself in excitement if he was told that angels were real; while John would most likely try to manually pull the angel out through Dean's ear. Dean didn't know how he was supposed to feel about it either. On one side it was pretty nice to finally be able to sleep without waking up every 30 minutes, but on the other side all his hunter instincts were telling him that the "angel", Castiel or whatever, was probably lying to him and planning on something.
But one year had passed without anything advancing. Dean hadn't even spoken to the angel since New York, and he had therefore decided that whatever the angel was up to he wouldn't deal with it before he had more leads to go on. All he had now was some nonsense about God and a couple of brief flashes of blue eyes and beige trench coats here and there every now and then. Dean at least tried to reason with himself that it was because of the lack of leads, and not the fact that he had begun to enjoy the angel's quiet but constant presence in his subconscious.
Dean was shaken out of his line of thought when the two kids he had just been looking at suddenly appeared by the side of their table.
"Hello sirs," they said politely, "we were wondering if you would like a flyer? They're from our local church, 'Scottsdale Pure Salvation', our doors are always open so please come and visit". The girl handed Dean a brightly colored flyer. "Awesome," Dean grunted. The two kids looked at each other happily before they ran back to their mother. The mother, the lady with the silver cross, sent Dean a smile and Dean tried to force his face muscles into some resemblance of a smile. When he was sure the family wasn't looking anymore he flipped the flyer around and pushed it towards the middle of the table.
"What does it say?" asked Sam.
"You wanna sign up?"
Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed the paper. Dean watched him read the short presentation he hadn't been bothered reading. As Sam got further down the paper the crease between his brows got deeper until he was full on frowning at the piece paper.
"What is it?" asked John.
Sam shook his head and read, "Have you strayed from the path of pure living? Have you caught yourself questioning your life choices? Are you often sad and depressed? Join us today at Scottsdale Pure Salvation and exorcise those demons! With true belief in the power of the Lord there is no demon too strong or too deeply rooted for Pure Salvation." Sam looked up at John and Dean who were now sporting similar frowns, "*Feel free to visit us on Thursdays and Fridays between 3PM and 5PM if you are interested in an exorcism, or if you simply want to experience the power of the Lord on Earth," he finished, "you really think they're doing actual exorcisms?"
"Of course not," said John, "I haven't heard about any hunters in Scottsdale and there's no way-"
"Anything of your liking?" the waitress interrupted.
"Bacon cheeseburger, thanks," said Dean.
"Same for me," said John.
"I'll take a crispy chicken salad," said Sam.
"Right up," said the waitress and started to turn around, but stopped when she saw the flyer on the table, "oh, you plan on visiting?"
"Nah, we're just-," Dean began.
"Yes, actually we are. Are you a member?" Sam cut him off.
"Of course! Reverend Robert Lauritson is the best."
"Is Lauritson the one who does the exorcisms?" said John.
"You mean the demon thing? Oh no, that's his daughter, Brynna. God given talent that girl has," said the waitress.
"I bet," said John.
"So, two bacon cheese and one crispy chicken? Anything to drink?"
When they had finished their order and they were sure the waitress was out of earshot John leaned across the table and whispered, "this might not be anything, but we might as well check it out".
Sam and Dean nodded.
John, Sam and Dean made sure to arrive at the church a little before 3 pm, so they could make sure they had time to talk to Robert Lauritson and more importantly his daughter before they began.
The church initially didn't look suspicious. A simple, flat, white building with one double door entrance.
"Check for sulfur," whispered John.
Dean ran his finger over two heavy crosses lying on the altar, not unlike the one the woman at the diner had been wearing. He smelled his finger and quickly concluded that no demon had ever touched those crosses.
He looked up and caught Sam's eyes. Sam shook his head and shrugged before he got down on all four to search the floor. If an actual exorcism had taken place in this room there should be signs. There should be an obvious burn mark the place the demon had been sucked back to hell, but the carpeting was unblemished.
Dean went over to a door that read 'private'. He looked around; the only other people in the church were his brother and dad. The door was locked, but with his hunter's skill he opened it quickly and stepped in.
The office was neat. There were no papers lying about, no thick exorcism books, no devil's traps, no bags of salt - none of the things you'd need to trap an actual demon. Dean became steadily surer that they were dealing with a scam.
"Excuse me sir, this is private property."
Dean turned around with one hand behind him, holding on to his gun. He let go when he found a young, attractive woman standing in front of him.
"Sorry," he said nonchalantly, "just got lost. I'm new."
The woman cocked an eyebrow.
"Big fan of the whole exorcism thing myself," he said.
"Is that so?" said the woman suspiciously.
"Oh yes. Name's Dean, by the way," she eyed his hand for a while before she reached forward and shook it, "Brynna Lauritson."
Dean walked back into the main church room with Brynna right in his heels. Dean had noticed how good looking Brynna was with her long brown hair, blue eyes and well-shaped, tall, body, but she had some kind of aura about her that told Dean that she would probably snap his neck one handed if he tried anything, so he decided it was probably for the best just to be quiet. Dean briefly looked back at her, she was smiling, but it wasn't a welcoming smile; her smile seemed practiced and too overly bright to be real.
Dean stopped in front of Sam who was still on all fours sniffing and studying the carpet for any traces of sulfur.
Dean coughed loudly, "this is my brother Sam he's uh, he's real special". Sam slammed the back of his head against one of the chairs in hurry to get up. "Found it!" he said, "lost a contact." Making sure that Brynna could see him put something into his eye he sent her a brief and forced smile, while at the same time shooting daggers at Dean with his eyes.
"So you must be Brynna, we've heard so much about the church," said Sam with excitement in his voice, "and your work," he added.
Brynna seemed to warm up at that and shook his hand, "you're a bit early, but if you want to participate you can just wait here," she said.
"That would be great," said Sam. "So, I know this might be too much to ask but, how do you do it? I mean, me and my brother here are really interested in becoming demon exterminators ourselves."
John joined them with his hands in his pockets and a slight shake of the head towards Dean. Dean shook his head back.
"Welcome sir," said Brynna before she replied to Sam's question, "demon extermination isn't just something you pick up, it's-"
A short man with a bald spot on top of his head, dressed in ministers robes, entered through the double entrance and finished Brynna's sentence, "God given talent," he said.
They all four turned around and faced the man. "This is my dad, Robert Lauritson," said Brynna.
"Robert Lauritson; I see you already met my daughter Brynna," Lauritson gave John's hand a firm shake.
"John Bonham, these are my sons Sam and Dean," John gestured towards Sam and Dean.
Lauritson squinted at John suspiciously. John motioned towards his back pocket discreetly and put his hand on his gun. Suddenly Lauritson asked, "John Bonham… like the drummer?"
John raised his eyebrows. "Yes… like the drummer," said John, taken aback.
"Zeppelin, true legends," said Lauritson and laughed. "So, son," Lauritson placed a sympathetic hand on Dean's shoulder. "There's nothing to be ashamed about, there is no demon my daughter can't beat. We deal with all kinds of sin here; addiction, abuse, depression," Lauritson took a break to send Dean a sad smile, "even sexual deviancy".
"Huh?" said Dean. Lauritson locked eyes with his daughter who nodded.
"I'm not possessed!"
"Don't worry sir," Lauritson looked over at John, "we will get that demon right out of your son."
"Thank you," said John. "Can you tell me how exactly?"
"Well why don't you just stay and have a look?" asked Lauritson. His gaze left the Winchesters as a nervous looking woman entered the door, "just on time! Mr. Bonham, this is today's client, Mrs. Mendoza." Lauritson patted the shaky woman on the back. She recoiled at his touch. "Sweetie, would you take Mrs. Mendoza here out back?"
Brynna directed the woman through a door close to the altar.
"We always talk to our clients before the sessions to make sure they're mentally and spiritually prepared," said Lauritson, his eyes following his daughter and Mrs. Mendoza out the door.
"Please, have a seat."
The next 30 minutes groups of people entered the small church and it was soon full. Every chair was taken and pulled as close to the altar as possible. A lot of the people there were snobby looking middle aged or elderly women. Dean thought most of them were probably only there for the excitement. Like demon exorcism was some kind of spectator sport. Some even brought their goddamn kids.
"People are sick," said Dean out loud.
Sam didn't disagree.
Another 15 minutes later Lauritson and Brynna reentered the sanctuary along with Mrs. Mendoza who was staring distantly at the people in the nave.
"Doesn't she look kinda different?" Dean whispered to Sam.
Sam knitted his eyebrows. She did look different. When she had come in she had been avoiding eye contact with anyone, her face had been downturned and she had been shaking. Now her body was perfectly still, her lips were slightly parted and her eyes were glazed and blank. She hadn't been making eye contact before, but now she just seemed to not be able to do so at all.
"Is she… high?" asked Dean.
Sam didn't get to reply. The moment he opened his mouth Lauritson raised his hand and the audience broke out in loud applause, before they fell into total silence.
Lauritson moved his head slowly from one side of the church to the other before he took a deep breath and began to speak: "many of you, sitting before me today, are here because you're dealing with a greater evil than you can overcome by yourselves. While your situations may be different, some of you dealing with addiction, others with different kinds of abuse, and some of you with homosexuality; all your problems are tied to the same evil. Through sin, a demon has entered your body and is corrupting your mind. You have become slaves to those demons, trapped in your own minds!" Lauritson took a long rhetorical break, "but fear not. Coming here today is the first step toward salvation. The first step on the right path. The first step toward God."
There was more applause.
"All I ask of you is to show a little courage. Let's get up from our seats and stand together in prayer, for the healing of Christ, for the love of God."
Everyone except the Winchesters shot up from their chairs and closed their eyes. Sam quickly elbowed John and Dean on either side of him and got up as well.
"This is fucking ridiculous," Dean hissed.
"Alright now," said Lauritson. Everyone sat down. "Today, one person has shown the courage it requires to regain the light into their life. Please give a round of applause for Daniela Mendoza!"
Mrs. Mendoza didn't react to her name being yelled out. She simply sat in the chair and smiled absentmindedly. Brynna walked around her and reached towards her face. When she came into contact with Mrs. Mendoza's skin, Mendoza closed her eyes and her head lolled back.
"Behold. The power of the Lord," said Lauritson in a low and dramatic voice.
With sudden violence Brynna pulled Mrs. Mendoza's head back up by the hair. Dean almost jumped out of his chair but Sam held him back.
"Dean. No!" he said.
Brynna lifted her heavy silver cross and punched it into Mrs. Mendoza's stomach. Mendoza coughed violently and as her eyes opened Brynna gripped onto her chin and yelled, "I see you, demon!"
She punched her again. "You cannot hide from me! Let this woman go!" she screamed.
Brynna pulled Mrs. Mendoza out of the chair by her lapels so she was kneeling on the floor. She pressed her silver cross to Mendoza's forehead. "Demon be gone!" she yelled.
"Demon be gone!" she repeated. Mendoza started to sob loudly but moments later broke into maniacal laughter.
"Hear my words Daniela! You can overcome this!" said Brynna, "say after me; I will not give in to sin!"
"I..will…not…give…in," Mendoza hissed, spit running down her cheek.
"Let's get out," said all three Winchesters in unison, having decided they had seen enough at the exact same time.
As people weren't sitting in the chairs anymore, and had instead all moved as close to the altar as possible without actually sitting on it, it was easy for the Winchesters to leave the church unnoticed.
"That might have been the stupidest thing I've ever witnessed," said Sam on the way back to the Impala.
John unlocked the car, "we should hit the road tomorrow, there's nothing here."
"Just a bunch of fanatic nutcases," Dean added.
The next day the Winchesters decided to make an early stop at the same diner they had visited the day before. They wanted to grab something to eat before they left for California, where John had found what looked like a promising case.
John was about to set his teeth into a piece of toast when he noticed a woman sitting by herself.
"Isn't that that Mendoza woman?" asked Dean.
Sure enough, it was Mrs. Mendoza. She appeared to be looking down at her plate with a wide smile, but her food was untouched. John nodded at Sam and Dean who got up from their chairs and moved towards Mrs. Mendoza.
"Uhm…" There was something about her expression that made Sam unsure as to how he should gain her attention. "Mrs. Mendoza?"
She didn't react.
Sam gently placed a hand on her shoulder and shook her a little. "Mrs. Mendoza?" he said more urgently.
She slowly raised her head and looked up at him, "oh… hello, didn't see you there," she said.
Dean frowned at the woman. Her voice was slow and slurred but she wasn't drunk, Dean would have been able to tell.
"We were at the exorcism," said Dean.
"Oh yes…" said Mendoza.
"Uhm, Mrs. Mendoza, I gotta ask, how are you feeling?" asked Sam.
The woman stared at the general direction of Sam's face. "I've never been better," she said and sent him a toothy smile.
"So they uh, they get rid of your, you know, they got rid of the demon?" said Sam.
"Oh yes… they got rid of it. They got rid of it."
"Can I ask when you joined the church?" Sam tried to keep her attention as Mendoza started to stare blankly out of the window.
"Two…two weeks ago," she said after a while, "my friend… Anna…Green… they got rid of it for her too."
Mrs. Mendoza started to look at her untouched plate of food again. Sam and Dean understood they wouldn't get any more useful information out of her.
"Maybe we should stay a little," said Sam as they sat back down in front of John, "just in case."
"She's acting even weirder than yesterday; it's like someone sucked her brain out," said Dean.
"Did she give you anything to go on?" asked John.
"No, well, she did mention this girl 'Anna Green'. Supposedly she was the one who introduced her to the church".
Anna Green, it appeared, didn't live too far from Scottsdale Pure Salvation. The Winchesters had decided to split up. Sam and Dean would pay Anna a visit, while John would see if he could find anything suspicious at the Lauritsons private home.
Dean tapped a few times on the door but there was no reply.
"Anybody home?" he yelled. When no one called back he shrugged and turned around, while Sam picked the lock.
When they opened the door they were hit by a putrid smell.
Dean pinched his nose. "Oh god no, I guess Anna is home," he said.
Sam looked at him disapprovingly and continued to walk through the hallway, gun raised. The smell seemed to emit from the room to the right. Taking a deep breath he pushed the door open.
His face screwed up in disgust as he was met with a horrible sight. Anna had been dead for at least 6 days. Her body was bloated and leaking, maggots worming about in the open blisters. Sam covered his mouth with his arm.
"You see the way she's lying?" asked Sam through his sleeve.
"I'd rather not, really," said Dean.
"Almost peacefully, like she just went to bed and didn't wake up," said Sam, "It happens but… she was so young."
Dean's phone started to vibrate in his pocket. "It's dad," he said and picked up.
"Anna Green's dead," said Dean before John began to speak.
"Yeah, I don't know, at least 6 days."
"Yeah"
"Okay"
"yes sir"
"be there in five"
Dean hung up. "Dad didn't find anything; wants us to meet him at the church," said Dean.
Sam and Dean made sure to wipe away any fingerprints they might have left in the house, before they turned in an anonymous tip about Anna and took off for the church.
They spotted the Impala parked a couple of blocks away from the church. John was leaning against the car with his arms crossed and a crease between his eyebrows.
"What is doing this…" he thought out loud. He stretched his neck and looked at Sam and Dean hastily approaching.
"Dad," said Sam. "Anna, she died without a fight. There was no blood."
"No blood," John scratched his chin. John seemed to think for a while before he said, "I have no idea what we're dealing with, but one of you'll have to get into that room they took Mrs. Mendoza to. Something happened in there."
"Wait till later, we could break in," said Dean.
"No..." said John, "I have a better idea. One of you sign up for one of those exorcisms. They'll take you right in there themselves."
"Are you seriously-," began Dean.
Sam lifted his fist, "best out of three?"
"I'm not gonna say something weird, alright?" said Dean as the three of them walked towards the small church. He kicked a pebble.
"Whatever Dean, just make something up," Sam grinned. "Sure you have something to go on," he added in a lower voice.
"What's that?" said Dean.
"What?" said Sam and laughed.
The church doors were open as the children with the flyers had promised, but aside from an elderly couple, and Reverend Robert Lauritson, the church appeared to be empty.
"Couldn't get enough could ya!" said Lauritson brightly as the three men came to a halt in front of him.
"No sir, we really couldn't," said Sam. Dean turned his face away so no one would see him roll his eyes.
"Actually, my son here," John gestured towards Dean, "is ready to get back on the right path again himself."
"Wonderful!" said Lauritson and pointed a finger at Dean, "we normally don't do exorcisms outside opening hours but yenno what, I like you. I can feel the Lord is with you."
"So you'll do it?" asked Sam.
"Oh yes, you're in good luck - Brynna's in early today so we could just make it a private little thing if you want."
"That'd be great," said John, "when can we begin?"
"Well right away of course!" said Lauritson and smiled widely at John. He stretched his arm out with his palm facing upwards and continued to smile.
"Uh…?" said John and looked down at the hand.
"Nothing's free in this world my friend, not even salvation," said Lauritson.
"Right," said John and searched his pockets for money. "How much?"
"A couple of hundred bucks should do it."
"W-" Dean began to open his mouth but before he could let out a word of protest Sam stepped on his foot.
John handed over every single dollar Dean had made the night before to Lauritson, who pocketed them and clapped his hands. "Alright!" he said, "follow me son."
Dean handed Sam the duffel and followed Lauritson though the same door Mrs. Mendoza had appeared behind the day before.
The room was strangely dark. The large windows that would have efficiently lit up the room were covered with long, black curtains. The only light source was a small desk lamp and a couple of candles.
"You again," said Brynna who was sitting behind a heavy wooden writing desk. Her hair was tied up in a tight ponytail. Her clothes were more casual than they had been the day before; she was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a light blue t-shirt. But the fake, practiced smile on her face was the same as the day before.
"Dean here's ready to turn his life around, isn't that right?" said Lauritson and gave Dean a slap on the back.
"Never been more ready," said Dean with fake excitement in his voice.
Brynna raised an eyebrow, seemingly unconvinced. "Well, why don't you take your shoes off and go lie down then, Dean," she said and gestured towards what looked like a medical exam table standing to the side of the room.
Dean eyed the table. He licked his lips and sent her a smile before he bowed down to untie his shoes. He got up onto the table.
Dean heard the sound of a chair being pulled back and seconds later he felt a cold hand on his arm. He tried his best not to jump.
"So Dean, tell me about yourself. What's on your mind?"
With every word Brynna spoke Dean's vision blurred. Alarmed, he tried to move, but his limbs wouldn't obey. His legs started to feel weak until he couldn't feel them at all. He tried to lift his arm but only managed to shake his fingers slightly.
"Don't worry Dean. Relax. What you're feeling right now is the power of the Lord sinking into every single muscle in your body," Brynna spoke.
"Wha… yo..." Dean tried to speak but only managed to get out a few syllables. His mouth was tingling like he had been injected with a large dose of sedatives.
Dean felt a heavy weight on his chest. He tried to look down but his eyes wouldn't move. He was stuck looking up at the ceiling. Someone moved his arms so they were lying on his chest, not unlike the way Anna Green had died.
Suddenly two red orbs entered Dean's line of vision. He quickly realized that they weren't orbs but a pair of eyes in a skeletal face. Long, ratty hair hung in clumps from its head and down into Dean's face. "So much darkness," said the skeleton with Brynna's voice, "so much sadness."
The monster monster's face was now only inches away from Dean's.
"Give in, Dean," it said, "give in to sleep."
"Give in," it repeated.
Dean felt his eyeballs roll back into his skull as the monster caressed his cheek.
"It's taking too long," said Sam. "Mendoza wasn't in there for that long."
John tapped his foot impatiently and looked at his wristwatch. It had been almost 45 minutes since Dean had left. John pulled his gun so fast Sam hadn't even noticed him going for it when he heard the sound of a door getting opened. It wasn't the door Dean had disappeared behind though; it was just the elderly couple leaving the church.
As the two doors slammed shut the lights flickered briefly.
"Did you see that," asked Sam.
They heard a loud thud.
Sam and John shot out of the chairs and ran towards the door next to the altar.
There was another loud thud and then the sound of glass falling to the ground and shattering.
John nodded once at Sam before they kicked the door in.
"Mr. Bonham! You really cannot interrupt right now-"
John punched Lauritson in the face with his left hand, causing him to stagger backwards and fall on his ass.
"Jesus Christ!" he yelled out and took himself to his bleeding nose. "Run Brynna!" he yelled, spitting blood all over the floor.
John and Sam simultaneously turned their faces towards Dean. They hadn't noticed it at first, as it was almost completely hidden in the darkness of the room. On top of Dean sat a skeletal thin creature with pitch black, leathery, skin stretched over its bony body.
"Nocnitsa," said John.
The nocnitsa jumped off the table and charged John.
As the weight was lifted from his chest Dean immediately regained sensation in his entire body. He quickly threw his legs over the side of the table and was met with the sight of Sam tying Lauritson to the table and John fist fighting with Brynna, or the nocnitsa as he had heard John call her.
"Dean, the curtains!" yelled John.
Dean ripped the curtains of their rods and a blinding light filled the room.
The nocnitsa hissed and recoiled. John used the seconds of distraction to cock his gun. He shot the nocnitsa several times in the abdomen. The nocnitsa ceased to move.
"Brynna!" yelled Lauritson. He fought violently with his ties but couldn't escape.
The Winchesters stood watch as the skeletal body turned back into Brynna.
"You killed my daughter!" screamed Lauritson.
"That wasn't your fucking daughter!" yelled John back. "Didn't you notice anything at all?"
"Of course I did!" spat Lauritson.
"You knew?" said Dean.
Lauritson gave up fighting and slumped against the table. "I've always known. Five years ago the Lord took my daughter, Brynna, away from me," he began. "Suicide."
"So you went ahead and adopted a pagan demon instead?" said John.
Lauritson glared at John. "She came to me in a dream. Told me that if I helped her cleanse the world of all sin no one would ever have to go through what I did."
"That's sweet," said Dean. "I guess you know then that Anna Green, and probably more if we looked into it, died because of your 'help'"
Lauritson looked down at his feet. "She… she did something else as well," he said.
"What?" asked Dean.
"In my dreams… I'm with her, we're all together, Brynna, her mother, and me." Lauritson looked over at Brynna's still body, a tear rolled down his cheek.
"It isn't real!" said John.
By the window Dean shifted his weight.
"We need to get rid of the body," said John.
"Let me do it!" said Lauritson. "Please."
The Winchesters looked at each other before they turned around. Sam put a hand on the exit door and said, "you think he'll-"
He was interrupted by a scream from the room they had just left.
"Lauritson."
They ran towards the door as fast as they could and ripped it to the side. On the floor lay Lauritson, the very much alive nocnitsa sat crouched on top of him with its hands on each of his cheeks. Lauritson's arms were visibly broken and forced into a cross on top of him. His eyes were wide and his mouth open in a silent scream.
Dean grabbed the chair by the table and flung it at the nocnitsa. The chair broke into pieces as it made contact with her head and she fell backwards off Lauritson.
Dean quickly got down on his knees and felt for a pulse. "He's dead!" he said.
The nocnitsa hissed at him and hit him in the face with its clawed hand, splitting Dean's lip.
"Dean, down!" yelled John. Dean fell to the ground the last second before a gun was fired right above him and hit the nocnitsa in the eye.
Sam ran over to Dean and helped him up. By the door John was hastily flicking through his journal, "Nocnitsa, nocnitsa, come on, nocnitsa," he repeated to himself. "We need iron!" yelled John when he found the right mark.
They ran towards the door with the nocnitsa in their heels. John almost got to the duffel that was still lying by the chairs but was thrown aside by a ball of fire. The fire ignited the carpet and had spread to the rest of the church within seconds.
The fire ate away the curtains and clouded the windows in dark soot. For a moment Dean stood frozen and stared at the fire slowly engulfing the entire ceiling.
He was broken out of his trance by the sound of Sam's pained voice. He searched the flames for the source. "Sam!" he yelled. He kicked a burning chair aside. "Sammy!" he yelled again.
The nocnitsa's grip was firm around Sam's neck. Sam made a desperate gasp for air but only managed to inhale a small amount of smoke. He felt his nose break when the nocnitsa punched him in the face. Blood ran into his mouth and down his throat. He was suffocating. Sam used his last energy to grope through the duffel back next to him for anything made from iron. His hand locked around something cold but too smooth to be iron. The nocnitsa hit him again. His head flung to the side with the force of the impact.
His vision started to darken but just as he was about to close his eyes he felt a rush of energy run through his every vein. He felt a strange sensation of déjà vu as he saw his hand rise, hand flat, palm towards the nocnitsa's face. For a brief second he thought he saw a flicker of fear in the nocnitsa's red eyes.
"Get off," Sam hissed. He felt the nocnitsa loosen its grip around his neck.
"Sammy!" someone yelled.
Sam looked to his left. "Dean!" he called back.
But the moment Sam looked away from the nocnitsa it smiled widely. "NO!" Dean yelled.
The nocnitsa pierced Sam's stomach with its sharp claws.
Or it would have, if a white light hadn't flared from the duffel bag in that moment. Dean heard the nocnitsa and Sam scream in unison as the light got too bright to look at. Dean closed his eyes and ran towards the source of the yell. The light was blinding even through his eyelids. He didn't dare open his eyes until he felt the light die out. "Sam!" he yelled again. Dean opened his eyes as soon as the light died and found Sam lying unconscious by himself. There was no trace of the nocnitsa. The skin on Sam's arm still in the duffel was an angry red and blistering. His face was bloodied, but he was alive. Dean sighed in relief.
A loud crack sounded above them.
Dean turned around, still crouching above Sam, shielding his body; just as a piece of wood fell from the ceiling right above him.
Dean opened his eyes. "Sam," he called out into the flames surrounding him but there was no reply. Somehow Sam had been moved away from underneath him. There was no visible exit; the flames had burned away anything that could point Dean towards which end of the church that was the exit.
He got up from the floor and tried to force his eyes to the limit. 20 feet away from him he thought he saw a dark shadow between the flames. He decided to walk towards the shadow.
When he got closer he was able to make out a woman in a dress standing in the middle of the flames, seemingly unfazed by the heat. Dean blinked a couple of times and tried to clear his smarting eyes as he recognized the woman.
Her hair was long and blonde. She was dressed in a white night gown. She smiled at him gently and lifted her arms, inviting him closer.
"Mom," Dean whispered.
She nodded. "My Dean," she said.
Dean took a slow step towards Mary. Dean looked at her and down at the fire and suddenly found that it didn't seem too scary at all. He listened to it crackle and thought it actually was a pretty cozy sound and that the heat wasn't scorching but instead nice and comforting.
He felt a hand on his shoulder. He knew immediately who it was.
"Hey Cas," he said, not taking his eyes away from Mary.
"Your mind is making this up, Dean, we must leave immediately."
Dean ignored the uncharacteristic urgency in the angel's voice and took another step towards Mary.
"I know this isn't real," said Dean.
"Good," said Castiel, "let's go."
Castiel lifted his hand and waited for Dean to turn around, but instead Dean walked closer to the flames.
"Dean," said Castiel.
"Just, just let me stay a little longer," said Dean.
Castiel let go of Dean's shoulder. He considered using force to compel Dean to follow him, but unsure as to what kind of damage that could inflict upon Dean's already abused mind he decided against it. Instead, he followed close behind until his instincts warned him against getting any closer to fire. It was holy fire.
If Castiel took another step towards Dean he would burn and die.
Castiel looked up from the ground where the flames were taunting him and grabbing for his feet. He looked at the memory that had taken shape as Dean's mother between the flames. He looked at her face, for a couple of seconds Mary's gentle features were replaced by a twisted black mass.
"My sweet angel, come to me," said Mary. Dean was now so close to her he thought he could smell the rosy scent of her perfume through the flames. Dean hadn't known he still remembered what she used to smell like.
Dean could still hear Castiel call behind him, and he knew he should turn around and walk the other way, but with every step towards Mary he took he felt security, relief and another warm feeling he couldn't quite put a finger on.
The closer he got to Mary the stronger the warm feelings got and he had to control himself not to set into a run. When he finally stood in front of her he didn't know what to say. He swallowed and bit his lip. Almost like a mirror Mary did the same.
"Oh Dean…," she said and finally she hugged him. "I missed you so much."
"I missed you too mom," Dean said into her blonde waves.
"You've gotten so big," she said and eyed him up and down.
"Yeah it's been… it's been a long time."
She hugged him tighter. "Dean, I'm so proud of you," she said. Dean felt Mary's shoulders shake.
"Don't cry mom," said Dean and ran a hand up and down her back.
"You took such good care of little Sammy Dean, you did more than anyone could ever ask of you."
"It's okay," Dean whispered.
Mary loosened her grip around Dean and took his hand. "Come," she said and walked deeper into the flames. Dean followed.
"Dean, do you remember when Sammy got his first bike?"
Dean blinked and tried to remember. "You ran up and down the street making sure he wouldn't get hurt," she laughed. "And in the end you were the one who fell first. Thank god we had those superman band aids, those can heal anything."
Dean couldn't remember what she was talking about at all, but was filled with warmth at her words. They continued to walk through the flames until Mary suddenly stopped and dropped to the ground.
"Mom!" Dean yelled and managed to catch her.
"Don't ever leave me again," she said through tears.
"Of course not," said Dean.
"Do you really mean that?" she asked and hugged him again. "You're such a good son."
"Yeah mom, we can be together again."
Mary kissed his forehead. "I love you," she said.
Dean smiled as the warm feeling he had been feeling was finally worded, "I love you too," he said.
Castiel felt the little clearing he was standing in shrink; the deadly flames moving closer and closer. He peered at Dean through the flames. With every breath Dean took smoke entered his lungs.
The ground started to shake around Castiel. A thick black haze oozed through long cracks appearing all over.
Dean was dying. His body was dying outside the memory and Castiel was trapped.
He could not fail. He could not let Dean Winchester die.
Castiel bit his teeth together and unfurled his wings. He closed his eyes and reached over the flames.
The pain was unlike anything Castiel had ever felt. Between any of the battles, any of the wars, anything Castiel had been through he had never felt this kind of all consuming pain. With all the might he could master he slammed his wing into Mary and Dean.
Dean felt a sudden rush of cold. He turned around and saw Castiel fall to his knees behind him.
"Cas!" he said and started to turn around, but Mary held on to him.
"Are you leaving me Dean?" she asked.
"No mom I just gotta-"
"Are you leaving me here to burn, again?"
"Huh?" said Dean and turned to face Mary again. He immediately let go of her hand. Instead of his mother's gentle blue eyes he was faced with a black, hollow, mass that didn't in any way resemble a face.
"What's wrong dear?" said Mary.
Dean pushed her away and she stumbled to the ground. Instinctively he made to help her up but stopped himself.
"How could you?" she sobbed. "your own mother."
The blackness spread from her face to the rest of her body. Dean watched on in horror as the fire engulfed the black mass and sintered it to a pool of liquid.
Suddenly Dean became very aware of where he was and the burning heat from the flames dancing around him. He spun around and ran towards the place where he could see the angel kneeling. When Dean broke the flames and reached the small clearing he fell down on all fours and coughed violently.
At once the flames disappeared, leaving behind an ashy mess. For a while no one said anything.
"The resemblance is startling," said Castiel finally.
"What," said Dean without looking at the angel.
"You and your mother; you share a lot of features."
"That wasn't my mom," spat Dean.
"For the most part, no," said Castiel.
"What do you mean 'for the most part'?"
"Part of what you saw was made up from real memories. Some parts were not."
Dean looked down at his hands and saw drops of water fall on top of them. They came from his own eyes; he was crying. He tried to control it but they kept falling.
"Back then. I heard you," said Castiel.
"What are you talking about?" said Dean with gritted teeth.
"In Pontiac. You prayed to her."
"Just shut up," Dean sighed. Castiel fell silent.
"Cas?" said Dean after a while.
"Yes, Dean."
"Is she in heaven?"
Dean looked up at Castiel and for a brief moment he thought he saw him fidget.
"No. I'm unaware of her whereabouts," he said.
"You're 'unaware' of a lot of things aren't you," he spat.
Slightly embarrassed at his outburst Dean looked down at his hands again. "Where is she?" he asked. Castiel didn't reply.
Dean felt a hand on his back. He looked over his shoulder and saw Castiel motioning his hand up and down his back like he was wiping something off it.
"What the hell are you doing?" asked Dean.
"I'm soothing you," Castiel said in a serious voice. "I've been told this is the right thing to do in situations like this."
Dean closed his eyes and thought the angel at least deserved points for effort.
"Could you stop," he asked.
"Yes," said the angel and stopped immediately.
"This hasn't happened in a long time," said Dean.
"No. As you probably know I've been healing your mind, but the nocnitsa has caused a fallback"
"Right. Hey, what happened out there? That light, was that you?"
"Yes I was able to extend some of my power."
"You saved Sam," Dean stated and looked up at Castiel's face.
Castiel stared back.
When the staring got too much for Dean he moved his eyes to the angel's shoulder and that was when he noticed. "Dude, you're hurt," he said and reached towards the scorched feathers on Castiel's right wing.
"It's of no concern," said Castiel.
"Didn't know a little fire could hurt an 'Angel of the Lord'" said Dean as he studied the dark feathers.
"It was no ordinary fire as you might have noticed. I'll heal in due time."
"Doesn't look too good to me, turn around man."
Castiel looked at him with a confused expression. Dean was about to take back what he had just said when the angel turned around.
In reality Dean had been a little curious about what the wings would feel like. Even though he didn't know much about birds he could tell that they didn't look like any normal bird wings. Aside from the obvious size difference, the feathers had a gleam to them that looked more like some kind of precious metal than anything he had seen in nature.
Dean ran his fingers through the feathers. They were softer than they looked but strong and surprisingly bendable. He picked at the scorched feathers, flattened them and pulled the loose ones out. Dean was so consumed by the work that he almost forgot what he was doing and jumped when Castiel started to speak.
"I've been thinking about your question," said Castiel.
"Uhu," said Dean, "which one?"
"You asked me about my motivations."
"Yeah?"
"I told you about my orders, but I think there might also be other reasons as to why I'm helping you."
"Is that so," said Dean while he tried to flatten a stubborn feather.
Castiel considered his words. "I feel…" he began, "we have a connection, a bond, Dean. My grace was placed before your crib and-"
"You mean that ugly ass statue?"
Castiel sent him a glare. "There are many angels more suited to protect you than me and yet here I am. I don't understand my father's intentions."
"Ever considered it might just be a coincidence?"
Castiel looked at him in bewilderment as if he had just told him he stubbornly believed the Earth was flat.
"There is no such thing," said Castiel
Castiel felt Dean's hands on his wing again. It was a strange sensation. The appearance of his wings was a result of Dean's subconscious trying to convert something it couldn't understand into something easier to grasp, but it was still the part of him most tightly linked to his true form and having it touched felt…odd.
When Dean was satisfied with the feathers he looked at Castiel's face. His eyes were closed and his lips were slightly parted. He looked relaxed. Maybe a little bit too relaxed.
"Uh," said Dean. "We're not uh doing something weird right now are we?"
Castiel turned around and tilted his head questioningly.
"I mean uh, yenno, this isn't some kinda…" Dean stopped himself. Castiel didn't say anything and continued to stare at him, the furrow between his eyebrows growing deeper by the second.
"Well that's not awkward at all," said Dean. "Great."
"Someone is by your body," said Castiel.
"What?"
Castiel pulled his wing out of Dean's hands. "A group of firefighters just found you. You will wake up now."
As spoken, Dean woke up with an oxygen mask on his face, lying on a stretcher, a blink of a second later. He managed to look to his left and found both Sam and John lying on similar stretchers next to him.
Author's note:
I'm sorry about my extremely slow updates. Real life has been tough with tons and tons of exams :(
Anyway, there are some pretty shameless references to real life people in this chapter - i'm sorry if you were offended by that. The destiel part of this fic will start to get into focus from now on and lol it will not be a monster-of-the-week kind of fic (even though i enjoy writing these little cases)
Constructive critisism and comments or anything really is more than welcome.
Thank you for reading!
btw myth-canon nocnitsa's don't have fire powers, i just thought it was rad.