JESS
Chapter 6
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Supernatural. They belong to Kripke. This is done strictly for fun, not profit. Also, if anything seems familiar, I don't own it.
A/N: Okay, first off…thank you all so much for the great reviews. I know I haven't replied to like any of them and I'm sorry. I had made a resolution this year to do that and so far I'm really sucking at it. So, to all of you who reviewed please know that I do love your comments and hope that you continue to give them.
A/N2: If I flub some of the medical stuff please forgive me. I tried to do some research and asked a fellow writer (thanks by the way to Salem's Child for the info I hope I do you justice) but some things may still not quite jive. So yeah, mistakes…all my own.
Spoilers: Season 1 up until "Shadow." I kind of flubbed the time line a little because technically in the U.S. the season finale had aired by the time Sam had his birthday, but in this story we're still before "Dead Man's Blood". But other than that, I hope I got things right.
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"Wait, what?" Dean was trying to process what his father had just said and was not making any progress.
"I can't believe she found some way to follow through on it," John mumbled not really paying attention to Dean. "But how? I didn't think it was possible."
"Wait, Dad!" John looked up at Dean just tried to wrap his head around what was happening. "What-what are you talking about? Follow through on what? What is it?"
John sighed and looked down at the floor as his hands tightened on the bed rail in frustration. "Do you remember about a year ago…you were on a hunt in Georgia?"
Dean nodded slowly trying to figure out where this was going. "Yeah, that was what…late April? You sent me to take care of an angry spirit that had been taking out the local teenagers while you…" Dean ground to a halt as he suddenly realized what was going on. "Dad…what happened?" he asked feeling suddenly sick to his stomach. "Did something happen to Sam?"
"No, no it was nothing like that," John said and Dean sighed in relief finally sitting down.
The room was quiet for a moment the only sounds that of the ventilator's steady clicking and cycling as both father and son struggled to find what to say.
John walked away from Sam's bed and looked out the window at the growing darkness. "The hunt…before that job, the demon we exorcised," John began hesitantly and Dean held his breath afraid that if he started talking or made any kind of sound that his father wouldn't continue. "You had gotten knocked out. I still remember the sound of that iron statue smacking you in the head and the way you crumpled like a rag doll...God that scared me."
Dean swallowed and just stared at his Dad's back not sure if he should say something, or even what to say if he did say something. So he just waited.
"You know…I know that demon's lie, but…you still have to wonder you know? How much of it is real, and how much is just to play with your head?" He finally turned back to face Dean but didn't look up at him but instead kept his head down. "After that night, I wasn't sure anymore what to believe."
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March 20, 2005
"I'm gonna kill you, Winchester! You and your son are going to die painfully."
"Not if I get you first," John said and continued to wrestle with the possessed man trying to back him up into the Devil's Trap. He landed a hard right hook against the man's jaw and he stumbled back a little and John followed up with a punch to the solarplexes which made the demon double over gripping his injured stomach. John then barreled into him using all of his strength to push the man back only stopping once he knew he had crossed over into the trap.
He quickly backed up and the demon growled in hatred and tried to run after him only to bounce off of the invisible barrier as John danced away just in time.
The demon growled in frustration as he continued to ram against the invisible wall trying to escape but to no avail. Finally he quieted and just prowled the perimeter glaring at John with black hate filled eyes.
John just gave a wicked grin. "Got ya," he said smugly.
The demon just fixed his evil black eyes on John and breathed heavily in hatred. "You know this isn't over? Not by a long shot."
John pretended not to be listening as he glanced over at Dean. He could see the slight rise and fall of his son's chest and the tension in his chest lightened just slightly before he grew serious again. 'Finish the job, then you can be emotional,' John thought as he continued to walk over to where their bag of supplies laid. He picked up the journal and a bottle of Holy water.
"Sending me back to Hell won't accomplish anything. You're outnumbered, Winchester, and sooner or later…you'll slip up. Or one of your sons will.
John turned hard eyes on the demon and walked calmly back to the trap. "Maybe…but in the mean time…you're not going anywhere." John threw Holy water at the man and he flinched away as the water sizzled and sputtered off of his skin. "Except back to Hell," John growled and threw more water at the demon.
The demon just growled and turned pitch black eyes back to John as John started to recite the exorcism. "Exorcizo te, omnis spiritus immunde, in nomine Dei. Patris omnipotentis, et in noimine Jesu Christi"
The demon growled and his hands flew to his head as John continued to read. "Ah, stop!"
John stopped for the moment and the demon stood there panting before falling to his hands and knees. He then opened his black eyes and glared up at John again. "You know…it's funny. You fight so hard to rid the world of every evil thing you come across. Searching for that one demon, yellow-eyes…I think you call him, that killed your precious wife," the demon spat out before smiling as he sat back on his haunches. "Yet…you're actually helping that very same demon in its greatest plan."
"What the hell are you talking about?" John knew that demon's lied and he knew that he shouldn't listen, but every little piece of information he could get about the bastard that had killed his wife could be important. "I would never help a demon."
The demon just laughed and John gritted his teeth trying not to let his anger get away from him just yet.
"You don't know do you?" the demon asked in amazement. He laughed again and John's blood boiled even more. "Why do you think Azazel was in your son's room? Surely you don't think it was because he wanted to kill Mary."
John took a step forward in sudden fury. "Don't you ever say her name again, or so help me God-"
"What? You'll kill me? Sorry, John, that threat doesn't work too well when I know you're just going to send me to Hell anyway."
John stood there with clenched fists and then started the exorcism again ignoring the cries and yelps of pain that the man made as the exorcism continued to tear the demon from his body. The man twitched and writhed as he was thrown around the trap and then John stopped before the exorcism was finished and watched the man lying inside the trap panting and shaking slightly. He then crouched down just outside the trap and looked in at the demon waiting for him to make eye contact. "I want you to give Azazel a message for me."
The demon flipped over with a pained expression and pushed up so that he could be at the same level as John. "I'm listening," he growled through clenched teeth.
"I want you to tell him and anyone else down there, that if they ever try to hurt my family again? I'll find a way to do more than just send them back to Hell."
Dean groaned slightly and both hunter and demon turned to look at the young man as he began to stir.
They both turned back to look at each other and the demon gave an evil smirk. "See you soon, Winchester."
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Present
"I finished the exorcism just as you began to wake up. After that, I just bundled you out of there and we headed towards Bobby's."
John had finally taken the other seat next to Sam's bed and was now holding his youngest son's hand in his own. Heat still radiated off of his body with fever spots dotting his cheeks, yet he was perfectly still. John reached up to take the warm washcloth from Sam's head and replaced it with a cooler one before stroking his fingers through Sam's long sweaty bangs.
Dean just sat there watching his father and brother and wished with a sort of aching need, that he could be the one that their Dad was showing affection for at the moment. With that thought, he shook himself slightly to clear his thoughts and berated himself silently for the thought. Snap out of it, Winchester. No need to get all wimpy. Sam needs you. He then sat forward and clasped his hands in front of him as he worried at his lip. "So that's why you were so quiet after that."
John just nodded. "I didn't know if any of it could be true, and I didn't want to worry you even more especially while you were hurt."
Dean just swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and nodded slightly. He still remembered being at Bobby's after that hunt. The first couple of days were a blur as he recuperated from the concussion that he had received when that statue had knocked him out and then after that he just remembered his father not really talking and seemingly avoiding him. He had thought it had been because he had screwed up. "But what does that have to do with the old woman?" he asked.
John was about to answer when there was a knock at the door and a nurse walked into the room. "Oh, sorry. Don't mean to intrude, but I need to check on Sam." She smiled at Dean and then John.
She was one of the regular nurses and Dean just nodded in understanding as he and John watched her come into the room. "Sure. Do you need us to leave?" Dean made a move to get up and she just waved him off. He then smiled slightly. "Thanks."
She just smiled and started checking Sam's vitals. "So who's this?" she asked Dean trying to break the tense silence in the room.
Dean started slightly and looked between her and his dad. "Oh, uh…this is my dad. He just got here a couple of hours ago."
She smiled again and took John's hand when he offered it. "I can see where your son's get their good looks," she said with a slight wink and John could see Dean turn a slight shade of pink in embarrassment. She finished taking his vitals and wrote a few more notes on his chart before checking his temperature and then frowned.
"Any change?" Dean asked trying not to sound too hopeful yet John could clearly hear it in his voice.
She just shook her head and Dean's face fell. She patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. He'll be okay. Sam seems like a fighter. He'll pull through this. I'll be back in a couple hours to check on him again."
Dean gave her a weak smile in thanks and then she was gone leaving the Winchester men to sit in silence once more. Finally Dean broke the silence by clearing his throat. "So…where were we?"
"She's right, Dean. Sam's strong…if anyone can beat this it will be him." John fixed his oldest with a hard stare hoping that he could himself believe his words as much as he wanted Dean to believe them.
"Yeah…I know," Dean said quietly as he brushed Sam's hand with his own making small circles with his thumb on his brother's hot skin. "But what's causing it?" He looked up again and fixed his father with a hard look. "You said this woman's dead, but this isn't something that an angry spirit or a poltergeist can do. And if I remember correctly, I don't think it's a demon either. At least nothing I've heard a demon being capable of doing."
John just smiled slightly at Dean's reasoning. "No, you're right. It's not a demon or a ghost. I thought it was taken care of when I called the witch but I guess I was wrong."
Dean paled slightly at his father's words. "A witch? Did she put a curse on Sam? But how-"
John held up a hand to stop Dean from continuing. "Dean, please."
Dean quieted at his father's words but his thoughts were going in a million different directions. "Dad, just tell me," he said in a small voice.
John then sighed and scrubbed at his face as he thought how to tell Dean this next part. "She was a witch, but when I met her I didn't know that she was a witch. It wasn't until later that I learned that part."
Dean frowned in confusion. "But then…why did you go after her?"
"I didn't. I sought her out because I thought she could help me. I should've known better but I wanted to know the truth and Missouri thought she could help."
Dean eyebrows shot up in shock. "Missouri told you about her?"
John just nodded. "Yes, you see…she's a psychic also."
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April 5, 2005
"…and you think she might be able to help?" John listened for a little bit looking up as Bobby walked into the room and gave him a curious look. "Okay. Can I get an address?" He searched the table for a pen under the stack of papers and books. Bobby pulled one from his pocket and John smiled slightly as he took it from him. "Okay. I'm ready."
Bobby went to pour himself some coffee as John took down the address and when he returned to the room John was tucking the piece of paper into his shirt pocket.
"Thanks, Missouri. I'll let you know what I find out later." With that he hung up and then rubbed a hand across the back of his neck to ease some of the tension lying there.
Bobby handed him a cup and John accepted it as the other hunter sat down in the easy chair across from John. "So what was that about?"
John peeked at him over his cup and Bobby could tell he was trying to decide what to tell the other hunter. "Nothing really, just a lead on some information about the Demon is all."
Bobby just nodded knowing that that was probably only a tenth of the story, but he knew not to push. Most hunters were fairly secretive just because of what they did; but nobody even came close to the Winchesters, especially John. "So what do you want me to tell Dean when he gets back?"
"Nothing. I told him I might have another hunt to do and besides I should be back before he's done."
Bobby frowned slightly and took another sip of his coffee.
"What, Bobby?"
"Nothing, it's just…the way you've been treating Dean lately."
"What do you mean?" John asked a little too quickly and Bobby could tell that his hackles were raised at the question.
Bobby sat his coffee down and fixed John with a hard stare. "John, he's your son."
John just looked at him and Bobby just sighed. "Don't you think he has a right to know that you might have a lead on the yellow-eyed bastard that killed his mother?"
John's jaw flexed in anger and he sat his own cup of coffee down. "I'll tell him when he needs to know," John said succinctly before getting up and walking away.
Bobby rolled his eyes and got up to follow. "John. John!" John stopped at the front door, his hand on the handle and his back still to Bobby. "That boy has never complained once in his entire life. He's never asked for anything even though he probably should have considering all the crap that dropped on him, and you can't even tell him this one little thing?"
John turned back so quickly Bobby took a slight step back before John was in his face anger filled eyes staring back at him. "Don't you ever question how I raise my boys again," John bit out between clenched teeth. "I'm just trying to protect them."
"There's a fine line between protecting and hurting, John. And I'm not sure you know where that line is any more."
The two men just stared at each for another heated moment before John finally backed away. Bobby watched as he picked up his coat and ripped the door open and then slammed it with a resounding smack before tearing out of the yard in his truck.
Bobby just sighed and pulled off his hat throwing it to the ground in frustration. "Well that went well."
Cedar Rapids, Iowa
John knocked on the door noticing the protection sigils carved into the ornate door frame. Most people who didn't know what sigils were would have just thought they were part of the design, but John knew that the intricacy of how they were woven together helped to strengthen their power. As he studied the surrounding area he heard the latch click and he quickly turned back to the slowly opening door.
A white haired lady peeked out from behind the heavy oak door that was fastened with a chain and John gave her a slight smile. "Hi, I'm looking for Lillian Granger?"
"And who are you?" she asked rather brusquely and John rethought his approach.
"I need to talk to you about a matter. I think we have a mutual friend. Missouri Mosley?"
The woman studied him for a moment more before looking in his eyes. "Christo."
John just smiled. "Trust me. I'm no demon," he said quietly.
She nodded slightly and then slid the door closed again. For a long moment John thought that she had gone, but then he heard the chain slide back and then door opened again. She was a tall woman. Almost as tall as John himself and lean but John could tell that if need be she could probably hold her own in a fight. He long white hair drifted around her shoulders and she wore a simple shirt and jeans and cowboy boots to complete the outfit. She stood in the doorway and crossed her arms as she looked him up and down in an appraising sort of way. "So you're John Winchester. For some reason I pictured you a little differently."
John just stood there a little flabbergasted at the sudden change in appearance of the woman from the meek and timid old woman hiding behind her door, to the strong and capable woman who stood before him with the air on a resounding strength hidden beneath the surface.
"Well, get on in here," she motioned him on in as she headed back inside. "And make sure you lock the door behind you."
John just shook his head slightly. Yup, definitely like Missouri.
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Present
"Wait…you went to her for help?" Dean asked and John just nodded. Dean looked away for a moment and fumbled for what to say next. "But…why?"
John just frowned. "I needed to know."
When John didn't seem to continue Dean prompted him. "Needed to know what?"
"If the demon was telling the truth," John admitted. "He had said that the Demon had plans and I needed to know what those might be. Why they involved us? Why he had killed…Mary." John swallowed hard on that last word and both men were quiet again feeling the loss of both mother and wife still so fresh even though it had happened over twenty years ago. "So I thought that she might be able to help."
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Cedar Rapids, 2005
"So you want to know if the demon was lying," Lillian said without looking back to see if John had followed or not as she studied the bookcase in front of her.
John paused for a moment still not quite sure what to make of this woman. "Yes. Can you tell me?"
She didn't answer but continued to study the books before finally pulling out a rather thick one and then walking towards the table that was pushed off to one side of the rather large room. Once she had placed the book on the table she finally looked up at John. "I think I may." She beckoned for him to come and sit and then sat behind the table and opened the book seemingly at random and began to read.
John sat down across from her and watched in silence as she continued to read not sure if he was suppose to speak or if keep quiet. He wasn't used to dealing with psychics and frankly kind of thought the stuff was a little bogus. Most of the psychics that he did encounter were just people who tried to rip other people off with the few rare exceptions like Missouri and Lillian and yet most people would sell their soul to have some charlatan tell them that their loved ones were okay on the other side.
"Don't worry," Lillian said finally looking up from her book. "I'm not one of those 'charlatans' as you put it."
John frowned slightly and looked contritely down at his folded hands. "Sorry."
Lillian smiled slightly. "It's okay. I've gotten used to it. Sometimes you hear things that you'd rather not when you're psychic, but it does have its advantages also."
John smiled slightly at that. "So what do you need me to do?"
Lillian closed the big book and then sat back in her chair and studied the man sitting before her as he continued to hold her steady gaze. She then sat forward and placed her arms on the table so that she was leaning on the edge. "I need something of your son's. Preferably something that he has used a lot or has sentimental meaning to him. The more he has tied to it, the stronger the impressions I can get and hopefully be able to tell you what you need to know."
John fidgeted for a moment and thought for a second. Finally he got up and Lillian waited as he went back out to the car making sure to close the door behind him when he returned. He returned to the room holding a book that had obviously seen better days. The spine was split and the covered was so worn that she could barely make out the image on the front. John handed it over and she felt how soft the paper was between her fingers as if it had been read over and over again the pages flipped back and worth and worn from use.
"He loves that book. I don't know how many times he's read it. I think he probably has it memorized by now to tell you the truth," John said gently and Lillian could tell how much he loved his son.
She nodded slowly and then carefully moved the book that she had been reading off of the table and placed the worn paperback on the wooden table before her. She then reached out for John's hand and John reached out to grab her hand noticing her firm grip. She then settled her other hand on top of Sam's book and looked at John again.
"I need you to think about your son. Picture what he looks like. What he sounds like. Anything you can think about him. It'll help me to focus."
John just nodded and Lillian closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
John closed his own eyes and focused on Sam remembering how he looked the last time he had seen him. He didn't think that Sam knew, but if they were ever in the area they would drive by Stanford just to check up on him. The last time had been almost a year ago. He had looked happy as he walked to class with a bunch of friends laughing and chatting. His hair was still long, but John knew that if Sam ever got his hair cut it just wouldn't be Sam. He remember that fated night that was the last that he had ever spoken to his youngest son. He had been so angry. And after everything had been said and done he had just looked at Dean and the shell shocked sadness that shone from Dean's eyes at his brother's leaving had almost driven him to his knees.
Suddenly, Lillian's hand tightened on his; and John's eyes flew open to see what was wrong. Lillian sat stiffly her fingers tightly wrapped around his in a white-knuckled grip the other pressing hard against the worn book her face contorted in deep concentration. John winced slightly as her grip tightened even more and he swore he heard his joints pop slightly with the force. The next thing he knew, she went as stiff as a board her head snapping back as her back contorted painfully before she began to fall limply to the floor.
The hunter sat in stunned silence for a moment before quickly kneeling before the psychic to make sure she was still breathing and then scooped her up to settle her on the couch situated on the other side of the room.
It was a few tense moments before Lillian started to regain consciousness and John breathed a slight sigh of relief.
Lillian groaned slightly and put a hand to her temple. "Man that hurt," she mumbled keeping her eyes tightly closed.
"What did you see?" John asked not knowing what to do for her.
"Can you get me some aspirin? It's in the kitchen cabinet to the far right."
John nodded and went to get her the medicine and a glass of water.
When he returned Lillian was sitting up and gripped the edge of the couch tightly as she swayed slightly. "Hey, take it easy."
She accepted the pills and water gratefully before washing the pills down with a few sips. "Thanks."
"So what did you see? Was the demon right?" John asked needing to know.
Lillian gave him an irritated look and he frowned slightly at the reaction. "I don't know," she paused slightly and rubbed at her temples. "It was all kind of jumbled. Just bits and pieces."
John frowned. Damn.
"One thing I do know. Whatever I connected with sure had a lot of power."
John knitted his eyebrows in confusion. "Power…what do you mean by power?"
"The spirit…that I touched has an immeasurable amount of power. It's still dormant, but it's definitely coming to a head and soon. When did you say your son's birthday was?"
John blinked slightly. "I didn't. Why?" he said feeling a frizzon of fear start to creep up his spine.
"Well, usually, if a new power is to emerge it usually will come at the anniversary of one's birth. And by the feel of things, I said his is close."
John gulped slightly as he looked away. So it could be true.
"So much power," Lillian said again and John looked back at her in confusion. "It's kind of addicting to get a taste like that."
John just looked at her now worried. "Are you okay?"
Lillian didn't seem to hear him for a moment and he shook her slightly. "Hmm? Oh yes, I'm fine. Just a little buzzed I guess. I'll be fine in a while."
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"After that, I made sure she was okay and then left."
Dean just blinked in surprise. "That's it?"
John just looked at him sadly. "No, it's not." John got up and walked back to the room not wanting to face Dean when he said this next part. "A couple of weeks later I got a call from Missouri. She had been hearing about different psychics around the mid-west that she knew that had been turning up dead. They would get sick for unexplainable reasons and then…shortly after their bodies would just…shut down."
Dean felt his throat go dry and he tried to swallow some moisture back into his mouth. "And you suspected Lillian?"
John nodded. "I had seen the look in her eye after she had that vision and when I went to investigate the deaths. Friends of the victims had said that a white haired woman had been to see each of them before they 'mysteriously' got sick."
"So you took care of it," Dean said matter-of-factly looking at Sam laying in the bed the ventilator pushing air in and out of his brother's lungs. "Or you thought you did."
John just nodded and turned back to look at both his sons. "Yeah…by the time I found her…it was pretty ugly. She had gotten addicted to the rush of feeling that psychic power and had found some way to drain a psychic's powers and use them for her own. Evidently, a psychic's powers are just like a person's soul. If they are drained away, the body can't survive and will start to shut down and eventually die."
Dean flinched at that thought and bit at his lip as he studied his little brother's pale face. "So what do we do?" he asked turning pleading eyes towards his father.
Suddenly John felt like he was looking at his four year old son again. Those soulful eyes pleading and believing that his big, strong daddy could make everything right. But sadly that wasn't then or now. John just sighed in despair and looked back at Dean with sad eyes. "I don't know."
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A/N: Okay guys. There's the new chapter. I know you've been dying to see who the old lady is so…tada. I hope you liked it. Let me know by pressing the little blue button and sending me a review. Remember…the good, bad, and the indifferent are all accepted. The bad ones help me to make my writing better and the good just make me all warm and fuzzy inside. Thanks again for reading and I'll catch you soon.