Thanks for reading and for sticking with the story. As always, thanks for the awesome reviews, they mean the world to me. Bambers;)
Chapter Fifty-Three
"He just came right out an' admitted it?" Bobby asked for what must have been the tenth time since he's picked Dean up in front of the prison, confusion warring with pure disbelief on on his craggy features. "I don't believe it . . . I jus' don't believe it." He shook his head, keeping his eyes focused on the road, waiting for Dean to tell him where they were headed.
"If you saw his eyes you'd believe it, Bobby." Dean cringed, recalling the murderous gleam in Dominic's blue eyes. "He just doesn't care. In his way of thinking, I took Shannon from him, an' now he wants to take everything from me."
From everything he knew of the cult leader, his warped sense of family meant everything to him. To him, Dean had been the catalyst in her murder. If he hadn't taken her in, sheltered and protected her from Dominic, she would still be alive.
"But you were in jail," Bobby reasoned, grip tightening around the steering wheel. "He won. Why abduct Sam and then give the police the information they needed to set you free?"
"Because it was too damn easy." Dean scowled. Memories flooded his mind of how Dominic had tore away at his defenses until he was nothing but a sad, pathetic shell of his former self. There were no half-measures in the madman's mind. He played not only to win, but to completely dominate. Yet if he was to dominate to his fullest satisfaction, he needed a worthy opponent, and with Dean in prison his victory more than likely seemed very hollow. Unsatisfying.
"He wants to see me grovel at his feet." The words caught and burned in his throat, recalling how he had done just that to stop all the mental torture.
"Well, that'll never happen," Bobby said confidently.
Shoulders slumping, Dean hastily turned his head to look out the side window, terrified that Bobby would see how wrong he was if he choose to glance in his direction at the moment. He wished he could have his friend's confidence, but when Mary sent him back in time to show him how things would have turned out if he had gone to prison for Shannon's murder, she'd left all his memories in tact. All the scars were gone, but the memories still burned him through and through. "You don't know him like I do," he muttered under his breath.
Bobby opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment Dean's cell phone rang, and with an irritated sigh he returned his attention to the road. Dean yanked his phone out of his pocket, saw that it was Jessica calling, and quickly jabbed the button, grateful for the diversion. "Jessica, have you heard anything from Sam?" he asked, although he already knew the answer before she even had a chance to speak.
"No, and it's been over a week now." Her soft voice was filled with worry and the love she felt for Sam."I feel like I should be doing something – I should've gone to the police."
Dean was silent for a few moments, trying to adjust himself to a reality where Jessica hadn't burned to death on the ceiling of her apartment much in the same way as his mother did. If he hadn't been there to convince Sam to leave and find their father, Jessica would still be alive – she was alive. This was the reality Sam would want to have for himself. But, Dean rationalized, their Dad had died in the trade-off – had died because of him. And for as much as wanted to see his little brother happy, he wouldn't have intentionally traded his father's life for hers. Yet, maybe that was the point. Maybe Jessica was the one who was supposed to survive. Maybe all the Winchesters were supposed to die, so she could live. She had been dragged into a war that had nothing to do with her . . . a twenty-two year old grudge against a demon with damn yellow eyes. And if so, maybe it was divine justice that Dominic had slithered his way into their lives to destroy them to the very core of their existence.
Although it was something they had never spoken aloud, they all silently understood that one day the job – the hunt for evil, would take their lives in the most brutal way imaginable. If that were true, and the Yellow-Eyed demon was somehow involved in this, it made perfect sense that they should all die by human hands instead of going out fighting against something supernatural. A cruel demonic joke. Dean imagined the crooked, glinting smile that would bring to Yellow-eyes face. There's no way in hell I'd give him the satisfaction.
"I'm gonna find him, Jess," he assured, determined to save his brother or die trying.
"B-but what if you can't?" Her voice hitched, and he had no doubt that she was crying. "What if he's hurt or . . . ."
"He's gonna be okay," he tried to placate, but his own fears made his words sound less than reassuring. "I won't let anything happen to him."
"What's going on, Dean?" she asked in a breathy rush. "If he's alright like you keeping telling me, why hasn't he called?" Jessica paused for a moment, and he could imagine her worried expression fading to be replaced by a look of aggravation at being kept in the dark. "This isn't like Sam. He always calls . . . even if he's only gonna be a few minutes late – I should've called the police instead of listening to you and Bobby."
"I'm gonna find him," Dean reiterated, grounding out the words in such a way as to let Bobby know that he planned on searching for Sam on his own. There was no way in hell he was going to put Bobby's or Jess's lives at anymore risk. It was already bad enough that he had to call the older hunter to pick him up from prison.
"I'm coming with – " Jessica abruptly stopped speaking to him, and he could hear her muffled voice calling out to someone else. Within a moment, she returned her attention to the phone. "Hold on, Dean, someone's at the door."
"Jessica, wait . . . ." his voice trailed off as he heard her greet whomever was at the door.
"Yes, can I help you?" She sounded somewhat confused. "No . . . he's not here." There was a hesitation in her tone that immediately set off warning bells in Dean's head. "What did you say your name was again?" she asked, and must have moved close to whomever it was as Dean could now hear another woman's voice.
"Morning Dawn," the other girl responded in a cheery, casual manner that momentarily set Dean's mind at easy until he realized that he had heard the name before. "When I saw to him this morning, I was sure he told me to meet him here. Maybe I misunderstood."
"Jessica! Damn it, don't let her in the apartment." Dean shouted into the phone, garnering a worried look from Bobby.
"You saw Sam this morning?" Jessica's asked, apparently not hearing Dean's warning. "Where is he? Why didn't he come with you?"
"He came to me trying to find a way to free his brother from jail," Morning Dawn lied effortlessly. "I could've sworn he told me and my brother Markus to come here."
"Sam did mention the restaurant," a man now spoke up, and Dean stomach lurched violently as he recognized Markus' superior tone. "I knew we should have gone there first. This is the last time I listen to you, Dawn . . . I'm so sorry we bothered you."
"What restaurant?" Jessica asked, completely sucked into their well played deception. "If he's in town, why hasn't he come home?"
"No, Jessica, Don't listen to them. Run!" Dean hollered into the receiver, to no avail. Dean's white-knuckled the cell phone, straining to her everything Dominic's children had to say. "Bobby, drive faster! We have to get to her," he pleaded, although he knew it was utterly useless. She was in California and they were in Ohio, hundreds of miles separating them.
Bobby fished around in his pocket and yanked out his cell phone, and immediately placed a call. "Yes, I need to be connected to the police in Palo Alto, California. It's an emergency."
"I know he mentioned the restaurant, but he also said he wanted to make sure Jessica was okay first," Dawn went on to say as if she were rehearsing for the lead role in a play. "I guess I made a mistake. We should go, Markus, he's probably waiting for us."
"Sorry we bothered you," Markus said, trying to sound sheepish for making such a stupid mistake, but his smugness wasn't lost on Dean.
"Yes, they're there now." Bobby's voice rose in anger as he gripped tighter to the steering wheel. "I told ya I heard her screaming before the phone got disconnected . . . yes, a man and a woman."
"If you're meeting Sam, I'm going with you," Jessica said, without the slightest hesitation as Dominic and his children more than likely anticipated.
"I don't think that's such a good idea," Morning Dawn's replied, feigning concern in her lilting voice. "Sam didn't want you involved."
"Damn it, Jessica, don't listen to them," Dean yelled into the phone, feeling every bit as weak and useless as Dominic had made him feel during his captivity. They were going to kill her just like they had killed his father – like they were going to kill Bobby . . . Sam.
"I said I'm going with you," Jessica said determinedly. "I'm not just gonna sit here while he could be in danger. Either I go with you or I follow you to him, but I am going to see Sam."
"Alright," Markus conceded after a momentary pause, "but we're already running behind, so we have to get moving."
"Thanks," Jessica said in a breathy whisper. "Let me just get my shoes on, an' I'll be ready to go."
"Bobby. She's going with them." Unadulterated panic rose in Dean, nearly choking off his ability to speak.
"The police are on there way." Bobby cast a sorrowful glance in Dean's direction, obvious realizing the same thing as Dean.
"They're not gonna make."
"Dean," Jessica's voice cut through his fears, and he refocused all his attention on making her understand the danger she was in. "I know where he is."
"Jessica, get out of there now," he ordered, voice shaking with the fear that no matter what he said it was already to late to save her. "Please, just get the hell out of there. They're members of Dominic's cult." He waited, expecting for her to say something, but the only thing he could hear as he pressed the phone closer to his ear was the muffled sounds of her crying and breaking glass. Her pitiful crying faded away and unbearable silence filled the line. "Jessica . . . Jess, please answer me," Dean begged, brusquely swiping away the tears that slipped down his cheeks. "God, Jessica, please answer me."
"Hello, Dean," Markus suddenly said in a mocking tone, and Dean could picture him wearing the same smirking grin he had worn the day he had challenged him to target practice. In the background, Dean heard the sound of car doors closing and within a moment the roar of an engine. "Father wanted me to tell you that your brother screams like a little girl." He paused as if he were waiting for Dean to say something, and then laughed. "He wanted you to know that he stabbed Shannon thirty-seven times with your knife – thirty-seven times. He counted. He loved her more than anything. So tell me what do you think he's going to do to your brother, Dean?"
"You sick sonuvabitch," Dean breathed, rage building and seething within the pit of his stomach, overtaking any other conscious thought except the need for revenge. "I'm gonna drive my fuckin' knife so far through you, you'll look like human shish kebob."
"Father's just toying with him now, Dean. Although he's getting a little bit bored." Markus chuckle mirthlessly, and somewhere in the background, Dean could hear the sounds of sirens blaring, growing louder with each passing second. "I think the police are gonna be just a little too late to find Jessica . . . we brought her along for the ride."
"This is my fault. Leave them out of this." Sweat beaded on the back of Dean's neck, a shiver of dread raising the hairs on the back of his neck. "They didn't even know anything about Shannon."
"You should've heard your brother's fingers as they snapped, Dean – although, I only actually heard the first three break when Father slammed the hammer down on them. It was like a strange crunching, pop sound . . . you know, the kind of sound that just makes you wanna cringe even if it isn't happening to you. But after those three, all I could hear was this horrid, pitiful screaming."
Bile rose in Dean's throat, imagining Sam screaming for him to help him to no avail. He swallowed hard, recalling how his little brother's hands were both casted after their father had rescued them from Dominic. No one had ever mentioned what had happened to them, but now Dean had a sick, sinking feeling that just like in this reality, his fingers had all been smashed to pieces.
"Jus' let him go . . . do whatever you want to me, but jus' let him go," he begged, more useless tears stinging at his eyes. The present reality and the past reality blurred together until they were nearly the one in the same. The only difference now was that he responsible for not only his father's death but the fate of both Sam and Jessica as well. "I swear I'll come unarmed – I won't even put up a fight – jus' let him an' Jessica go."
"Dean!" Bobby slammed on the brakes and skidded to the side of the road. He swung in his seat to glower at Dean. Breathing heavily, he went on to argue, "What the hell are you talking about? Don't be stupid, boy . . . they aren't gonna let them go. You're just gonna end up getting yourself killed."
Resigned to do whatever he needed to do to stop Dominic from hurting Sam again, Dean pulled the phone away from his ear and covered it with his hand. "I can't let them die because of me, Bobby. You don't know them like I do – You have no idea what he'll do to Sam because of me."
He put the phone back to his ear just in time to hear Markus taunt in a sing-song voice. "I killed your Daddy, Dean. Shot him through the head, and just for good measure, I took a second shot . . . care to guess how long it took him to fall down dead?"
"I'm gonna kill you, you sonuvabitch," Dean snarled, hands clenching into tight fists.
"Well, you better hurry then." Markus let out a short barking laugh, not the least bit concern about the threat. "Cause you know what we're gonna do?" He paused again, apparently waiting for Dean to take a guess, but when he failed to respond, he continued, "We're all gonna take turns with your brother's pretty little girlfriend while he watches – and then we'll kill her. Slice her throat wide open. How do you think Sam will react to that . . . more pathetic screaming, I'd imagine."
"The screaming is gonna be coming from you, right before I rip your throat out," Dean's voice turned deadly calm, no longer listening to Markus' taunts. He knew where to find them. He knew the entire layout of the cult's compound. It was an advantage they would not be expecting. "Before you can even think to touch her, you and Dominic will be dead, along with anyone else who's harmed my brother in anyway. An' that's not a threat, asshole – it's a promise."