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Chapter 11
There was a silence between the two. John blinked. Sara raised a hand to her cheek. The only noise
between the two was Dean's uneven breathing. John glanced down. His mask slipped for a second.
Fear and uncertainty flashed on his face for a second. Sara caught the look. She smiled as if in
triumph.
"What did you give him?" John curled his free hand into a fist. Sara's eyes flicked from his face to his
hand and back to his face. John still held the other bag in his hand.
"He is a very sick man sir. I am trying to help him." Sara gestured at his unconscious son. John was almost convinced by her oh-help-me-i-am-a-victim routine. His eyes flickered down to the radio.
"IF you are going to lie, you ought to turn off your radio first." John gestured. Sara's eyes narrowed.
She was not sure if it was a trick or not. He had to be lying, she decided. There was no way that she
would have been as careless. Her hand slid gently into the pocket of her jeans. Sure enough there was
a little light on the top, indicating that the radio was on.
"You son of a-"
She muttered before she could stop herself. She managed to stop herself before she finished. But the
damage was done. John nodded. Sara got to her feet as best she could. She flicked the radio off
without looking at it. She kicked Dean petulantly. He barely reacted. He only groaned slowly. John
growled.
"Don't." He warned.
Sara smiled. She was glad to see that see was finally getting a reaction. John dropped the medicine
bag. He kicked it behind him. It disappeared into the darkness. Sara kicked Dean again. This time she
put a little more force into it.
"Don't what? Hurt your son?" She taunted. "Bit late for that. He is dying by the way. And I did it."
John did not react. Sara grimaced. "What are you waiting for daddy Winchester?"
John smiled. The sight of it chilled Sara. Even though there was at least 2 metres between them. It was
confident. It was the smile of a man in complete control.
"I am trying to figure out what you are. My best guess would be demon or vengeful spirit."
"What?!"
John took a step forward. Involuntarily, Sara took a step back. John smiled at the act of
self-protection. As he stepped over Dean, he stooped for a second. Ruffling his hair, he whispered,
"IT will be okay soon son I promise."
Sara launched herself at John. He had half expected some sort of attack. He rolled with her weight
and forced her along. He threw her away, without much difficulty. Her head the other side of the metal
with a thud. She stayed were she was, dazed. John advanced slowly. When he had first seen Dean,
his fear nearly overcame him. He needed to get down out of there as quick as possible. John was not
stupid. He was not a killer as well. He had been presented with a situation. A supposed deranged
woman was killing his youngest. If it came down to it, John would have no hesitations about choosing
Dean over her. However, if she was innocent (she could have been possessed) then John would try to
save her. He would kill the real evil son of a bitch behind it all. His best clue had been when she had
uttered the words daddy Winchester. She knew more than most humans knew. He had not said a
word to hint at this. He was equally certain that Dean would not have.
While she was still dazed, John retrieved his journal from where he had stuffed it for safety.
John stopped at the correct page.Exorcism. This was his first option for dealing with her. Usually it
was the most effective.
"Christo" he whispered before he began. Sara flinched. John smiled grimly. John reached into his
pocket. He retrieved a bottle of clear liquid. Unscrewing it, he moved in front of Sara. He punched
her. He flicked liberal amounts of holy water onto her body. He screamed. While she was distracted
by the pain, John began to chant the Latin required. When it was over, John felt nothing. He reached
over and stopped Sara from falling onto the ground. She was unconscious. He laid her gently onto the
ground.
He turned his attention to Dean.
"Dean." He was relieved. He knelt beside him. "Nice trick with the radio." John shook him gently.
"DEano."
John laid a hand on his chest.
"Dean?" His voice grew serious. He laid his hand on Deans neck, searching for a pulse.
"DEAN!"