Disclaimer: I don't own SPN.
I legit creeped myself out writing last chapter. Guess that's what I get for writing it at 11.30 at night…
Thanks to LaughingLadybug, EmilyAnnMcGarrett-Winchester and kasey123 for your reviews! :)
"Sam?" Dean whispered. Sam just stared at the floor, not giving Dean any sign that he'd heard him. "Sammy, talk to me. You've been zoning out for like an hour now."
"Why?" Sam mumbled. Dean was glad that his little brother was finally talking! "I'm just a screw-up. All I ever do is make your life crap. I'm just a burden on you. It's my fault that Mom died. That demon was in my room! It's my fault!"
"Shut up, Sam!" Dean snapped. Sam flinched. "Are you really gonna listen to what some demon asshole said while shoved up in my head? None of that's true! You're not a screw-up, you're not a burden and it's not your fault that Mom died! It's the demon's fault! If I really hated you then would I really look after you?"
"Dad makes you," Sam said glumly.
"Yeah, Dad makes me run out to the shop for snacks so you don't have to eat mac 'n' cheese or Spaghetti-O's for the fourth night in a row," Dean said sarcastically. "Dad makes me take you to local playgrounds when you get bored even though I could get my ass kicked for not staying in the room. Dad makes me hug you and act all girly when you have a nightmare. Face it, Sammy. You're stuck with me whether you like it or not. If I really hated you then I'd tell you to sit down, shut up and do whatever I say."
"You do that anyway, Dean," Sam pointed out, though he was smiling softly. Dean took this as a sign that he'd finally managed to get through to Sam. Good thing too because this sappy, girly moment was making him feel sick. "You're such a jerk!"
"Maybe you shouldn't be a bitch then," Dean smirked back. Sam gasped.
"You said a really bad swear word!" he said. "Dad's gonna kill you!"
"Not if he doesn't find out," Dean said conspiratorially. "It's our little secret, isn't it?"
Sam laughed and nodded.
"Aww, isn't this touching?" Dean's blood began to boil when Abaddon paused in front of them, smirking once again. "I think I might actually be sick and demons don't get sick."
Sam and Dean ignored her. The sudden sound of loud footsteps outside the warehouse made Sam and Dean whip their heads around to stare. Was that John and Henry?
'Dammit, Dad!' Dean thought. 'You and Henry shouldn't've come!' But at the same time, he was glad that they had. It meant that Sam could get out of this situation, even though Dean wasn't stupid enough to believe that Abaddon would just let them go. The bad guys never did.
"Showtime," Abaddon said, smiling triumphantly. She produced two pieces of cloth from her jacket before grabbing Sam's face roughly and tying one piece tightly around his mouth, gagging him.
"What the hell? What're we gonna tell them? Abaddon's Secret Diary, Entry Number Six?" Dean protested.
"Just call it a kink for the poor kids trying desperately to call to the big brave parent," Abaddon shrugged, pulling the second piece of cloth around Dean's mouth and tying it at the back of his head. "Really emphasises the helplessness, you know. And it makes you look more pathetic, which will just make John and Henry angrier and me happier. Little life lesson, Deanie: the angrier someone is, the more mistakes they'll make. Consider it a gift from me to make up for the fact that I'm going to brutally kill you and your brother and make Henry and John watch."
Dean felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as the demon just confirmed what he already knew: they weren't going to make it out of this. Abaddon waved her hands. Dean felt himself being dragged to his feet. Next to him, Sam was also being hauled up.
"C'mon, kiddies. Let's go play ball."
Dean spat the foulest curse he could muster at Abaddon, though it was lost in the gag. The demon strode to the centre of the room, Sam and Dean being pulled with her, and then she stopped and Dean felt himself being frozen in place. He tried to send a reassuring look to Sam, who was once again looking terrified.
The warehouse doors were pushed open and then Henry was pushed inside, his hands handcuffed behind his back. Dean groaned into his gag. What the hell was going on? What were they hoping to achieve by tying Henry up? Was John really giving Henry to this bitch?
"Henry! So glad you decided to make it!" Abaddon called cheerfully. Henry glared at her. Behind him was John, who had a gun in his hand and an absolutely pissed expression on his face as he took in his bound and gagged sons. In that moment, Dean was very glad not to be the focus of that glare.
"Get the hell away from my sons," John spat.
-ATGB-
"You sure you know what you're doing?" John said to Henry on their way to the warehouse. Squinting at a bullet, Henry was carefully carving a tiny Devil's Trap into the tip of it. It was quite ingenious and John wished that he'd thought of it before. It would've saved him a hell of a lot of hassle on previous cases.
"I'm positive," Henry said firmly. "This will work. It will slow Abaddon down and then you can take care of her."
"You sure you want to do this, Henry?" John said. He wasn't really giving Henry a choice – his father would do this whether he liked it or not – but he preferred it if Henry was willing. And besides, even though he tried to deny it, he actually cared about Henry and didn't want him to die or anything. "This means you've gotta get close. And close can get ugly."
"I know that," Henry murmured, carving out the final details of the Devil's Trap. "But you do that for family. I let you down twice already, John. I'm not letting you down a third time."
John nodded. He reached out for Henry, paused for a moment and then clapped a hand on his shoulder. Henry looked startled.
"For what it's worth, thanks for trying to make things right," John said. "Nice to know that you didn't run out on us. You're alright, Hen – Dad."
A smile started to spread across Henry's face and he leaned back in his seat with a satisfied look.
"I suppose I shouldn't get used to that," he said. "Seeing as how I'm now your half-brother."
"It needed to be said," was all John said. Henry was saved the necessity of replying by the warehouse appearing ahead of them. John's stomach started to twist nervously. Truth be told, he was terrified of what he'd find inside. Were Sam and Dean alright? Had that bitch hurt them? Well, that was a stupid question. Of course she'd hurt them – she was a demon. But for her own good, she'd better not have hurt them too bad or she was going to suffer John's full wrath crashing down on her. As it was, he already had a thousand different punishments for her rolling around in his head! What he was going to do to her once Henry had immobilised was merciful compared to what he wanted to do!
"Right, let's do this," John said after parking and killing the engine. The two of them got out of the car and then Henry turned around and let John enclose his wrists with handcuffs that he didn't do up. Maybe, just maybe, this small detail would make Henry look helpless and allow him to catch Abaddon off-guard and get away without getting killed. "You remember the plan?"
"Get close to Abaddon and shoot her with the bullet," Henry recited. "You'll do the rest."
"Good." John fingered the box and the deck of playing cards in his pocket. "Let's go."
The two of them walked up to the warehouse, making sure that they would be heard by anybody inside. John pushed the heavy doors open and then, immediately slipping into character, took out his gun and pushed Henry into the warehouse roughly. His eyes were immediately drawn to Abaddon, who was standing in the middle of the place with a satisfied smirk on her face. On either side of her were Sam and Dean, both bound tightly and gagged. John felt his blood boil when he saw the cuts and wounds on Sam's face and the bruises around his throat – bruises that were the size of a child's hand. John nearly shot Abaddon then and there. She'd possessed Dean? She'd taken over his boy and made him beat up Sammy? She was going to pay!
"Henry! So glad you decided to make it!" Abaddon sang. Henry just shot her a glare and John sent the most poisonous, acid-filled look he could muster at the demon.
"Get the hell away from my sons," he spat venomously. Sam and Dean looked at him with a mixture of relief, happiness and fear and he felt like punching Abaddon's head in simply for gagging them. He knew that it was a psychological trick, intended to make him even angrier for having made his boys even more helpless and goad him into making mistakes, and so he forced himself to take deep breaths and not do anything rash.
"Hello, John," Abaddon smiled. "I don't believe we've been formally introduced."
"I don't need an introduction," John growled. "I know you're a disgusting piece of filth that should be put down."
"Ouch," Abaddon pouted. "I try to be polite and where does it get me?"
"Cut the crap, Abaddon," John snapped. "I'll send Henry over with the box. You send my boys over to me. Got it?"
He held out the box to Abaddon and then went to put it into Henry's pocket. However, at the last moment, he performed a quick sleight-of-hand and slipped the box into his own pocket while depositing the deck of cards into Henry's jacket.
"My only interest is Henry and the key!" Abaddon said innocently. "You and your sons are free to go."
'Yeah, right,' John thought. He shoved Henry with his gun roughly, grimacing mentally.
"Get moving, Henry," he snapped. "I'm not walking out of here without my boys and that means that you end up over there."
Henry nodded, squared his shoulders and strode towards Abaddon. At the same time, the demon waved her hands and Sam and Dean stumbled and began to run over to John. They shot Henry a fleeting look but he stared ahead resolutely. John knew that he was trying to avoid any distractions so that he could shoot Abaddon without getting iced himself. When Sam and Dean made it over to him, John immediately pulled their gags off.
"Dad!" Sam gasped as John took out his pocket knife and hacked at his younger son's bonds. As soon as Sam was free, he threw his arms around John and hugged him tightly. John allowed this for a moment, returning the hug just as tightly, before gently pushing Sam away and cutting Dean free.
"I'm sorry, Dad," Dean murmured. "I should've fought harder, not let her take Sammy."
John's heart sank. Was Dean's self-esteem really that low that he blamed himself for being possessed?
"Dean. Son, look at me," he said. Dean reluctantly met his eyes. "It's not your fault. Not many people can fight off a demon and no one can fight one that sets up shop in their head. Okay?"
John then pulled Dean in for a brief hug. He felt Dean freeze in surprise before hesitantly reciprocating and in that instant he swore to hug Sam and Dean more. Had he really been that crappy a father? This whole adventure had opened his eyes to just how much he loved Sam and Dean and wanted to keep them safe and that wasn't going to happen if he dragged them around the country and kept them locked up in motel rooms!
"Come on, boys," John said. He guided Sam and Dean towards the warehouse doors but, as he'd predicted, Abaddon waved her hand to shut and lock them tightly. He set his jaw and turned around. "Hey, we had a deal, you bitch!"
"Surprise!" Abaddon chuckled. "I lied." She turned to Henry but John had played his part well; his distraction had been enough for Henry to pull out the gun with the carved bullet, thrust it under Abaddon's chin and fire. Her head jerked back, lighting up as it did so, and blood splattered under her chin and down her neck.
'Bullseye,' John thought in satisfaction.
"Dad! That won't kill her!" Dean hissed.
"Just trust us, Dean," John murmured. "We've got a plan." He began to edge around, to loop behind Abaddon, pulling out his machete as he did so.
"Woo! What a blast!" the demon crowed. "Now give me the box." She reached into Henry's pocket and pulled out the pack of cards. She examined it for a moment before hurling it at the ground and screaming, "WHERE IS IT?" Thunder crackled overhead.
'Keep her distracted!' John mouthed at Henry. Just because Abaddon was immobilised (not that she knew it yet) didn't mean that she wasn't still a dangerous opponent. The element of surprise was the only advantage they still had on their side.
"Okay," Abaddon spat. "We can do this the hard way." She grabbed Henry by the throat, pulled him in close and then, to John's disgust, tried to breathe some of her demonic smoke into his mouth. However, it met with an invisible barrier halfway there and Henry took the chance to wrench himself out of Abaddon's grip and back away out of her reach. Abaddon attempted to follow him but found that she was glued to the spot.
"WHY AM I STUCK?" she bellowed. John's mouth curved into a satisfied smirk.
"Surprise," Henry smirked. "We also lied."
John could have high-fived his father then and there.
"Well, you still didn't kill me," Abaddon said triumphantly. John took this as his cue.
"No, but you'll wish we did." He swung, his machete biting into Abaddon's neck. It easily sliced through the muscles, tendons and bones and Abaddon's head went rolling, coming to rest a few feet away. Sam looked like he was going to throw up and even Dean looked a little nauseous. "That Devil's Trap will keep you from smoking out and we're gonna cut you up and bury you six feet under. You may not be dead but you'll wish you were, you bitch." He crouched down next to Abaddon's head to whisper, "That's what you get for touching my boys."
"You did it," Henry said in disbelief, staring at Abaddon's head. He looked up at John and grinned widely. "You did it!"
"We did it," John corrected with a smirk. Spontaneously, he stepped forward and pulled Henry into a rough embrace, slapping his back proudly. Henry paused and then returned the hug tightly. John heard footsteps and then felt two small arms around his legs as Sam joined in the family hug. John looked around at Dean, who immediately shook his head.
"Nuh uh," he said. "I'm not getting involved in any chick flick moments."
"Get over here now, Dean," John ordered. When Dean was close enough, he reached out and pulled his startled son into the family hug.
It may have been one of the most intense challenges of John's life but Abaddon was as good as dead, he'd learned a few things along the way and he had his father back. Three generations of Winchesters had come together and they had succeeded epically.
That was what Abaddon got for messing with a Winchester!