A/N: Much thanks to SciFiNutTx and The Kritty. SciFiNutTx answered my question as to why the Benders didn't have any vengeful spirits hanging around. The Kritty reminded me to emphasize that Dean's appearance after all these years (particularly his hair) would seem strange to Sam and John after four years.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. This is for entertainment only, and not for profit.
Chapter 17 – negative space
Bobby knew a trick or two.
The cabin was well off the beaten path, way out in the middle of nowhere. Dusk in another hour. The Chevelle sat in the shed next to the house. Bobby set one of the shotguns up inside.
A long thin wire led from the trigger to the door handle. One pull was all it would take.
It was a change from the usual routine of laying down thick salt lines all the doors and windows. What was after them now was people.
Just people.
Inside the cabin Dean Winchester's unconscious body was bound, wrists and ankles, to that big heavy wooden chair that sat in the middle room.
Sam stared at his brother, with that miserable, slightly twitchy expression that John had become familiar with in the last few days. John finished knotting the ropes around Dean's right wrist, then stepped back. Sam's expression sharpened. He was all business now.
The man in the chair took a deep breath, like a diver breathing on his own after being submerged for a time, He blinked. His head drooped forward a little more, then he sat back and tossed his head a little to get his long hair out of his eyeline. His expression hardened as he stared down at the clothes they'd dressed him in. Black long-sleeved t shirt, worn blue jeans and workboots. Dean's clothes, from four years ago. They were actually a little baggy on him through the ass and the shoulders. Dean had lost some weight and muscle definition through the arms and thighs.
Gabriel sneered.
He lifted his head. That green gaze of his flowed over first John and then Sam like dark water. "Well well. Hello, Papa. Sammy," Gabriel purred mockingly. He shook his head in disgust. "No wonder he wanted to get the hell away from you two."
Sam straightened up. He leaned forward, stared intently at Gabriel's face.
"What the hell you looking at?" Gabriel growled. "You tryin' to get all warm and fuzzy with me, boy?
"I'm looking at my brother," Sam said calmly. He shrugged carelessly. "You? You're nothing."
"Yeah?" Gabriel's smirk widened. "Is that a fact? I'm nothing, huh? Your brother's gone, because of me. He's not coming back."
Sam shook his head. "You're lying."
"Am I? Then why isn't he talking to you right now? He's gone. Gone for good."
The inflection of the voice was even lower, rougher than Dean's normal growl. It was almost feral. That was just as jarring as the long, sandy blond hair and the fact that his clothes didn't fit him quite right anymore.
Sam smiled. He untensed; John could see it. "I've faced down demons more badass than you, Casper."
Gabriel jerked back with a growl. "Casper?" He looked a little paler than usual. He looked down at his hands, stared hard at his fingers as he tried to force them to stop shaking. He wasn't very successful.
They were double teaming him, and the damn fool didn't appear to notice. Ignoring this bastard, discounting him, threw him off balance. Gabriel apparently wasn't used to that. That was good to know. Dean would have told them both to go to hell and called it a day. John could almost forget that this was Dean's body, that his eldest son was caged somewhere inside his own body.
John could almost forget that.
Sam was relentless, seemingly unconcerned. He smirked right back at Gabriel. "You were on a roll back there at the pond. And then, all of a sudden, you ran out of gas, didn't you? That's because Dean stopped you." Sam nodded. "My brother stopped you cold. You've been out for hours. We even changed your clothes, dumbass. We tied you up in that chair. So don't get too comfortable, Gabe," Sam's voice fairly dripped with sarcasm. "Your expiration date's just about up."
"No, it isn't," Gabriel whispered fiercely. He leaned over, his shoulders hunched up almost to his ears.
He's trying to stop shaking, Sam thought. He needs his meds.
Gabriel stayed that way for a long moment, then he leaned back against the chair.
"My family's coming for me." Twisting his wrists against the ropes was a constant motion now, the action of a trapped animal trying to escape. "And you're dead men." His eyes snapped from one man to the other. "Every last damn one'a you."
"Yeah. Right. " John tried not to yawn. "So you wanna tell us where home is? I mean home for the last four years? Might wanna pay your folks a little visit."
Gabriel scoffed. "You're just as stupid as you look."
"That stings." John said mildly.
Gabriel spat in John's face. John didn't even blink. A small streak of saliva ran down John's left cheekbone. He wiped it off, then quirked an eyebrow as he rubbed his hand dry on the left thigh of his jeans. "That the best you can do? Come on, Gabriel."
Sam was the target now. "Don't know why your sorry ass is even here. You always run, boy. You left your family, ran off to school and pretended you were normal. You always leave him. You both do. My family took Dean in, cared for him."
"Bullshit," John growled. He wanted to slap the hell out of this bastard, slap that smirk right off that face.
Dean's face.
John stilled himself.
John remembered the way Dean's body looked as they dressed him. The scars on the left side of his body, on his arm and leg. That large dent in Dean's side, right over his left hip. Oh, they took him in, all right. Looked like they'd slammed into him with a car or truck, and in some perverse way that made John feel better. It was a hell of a thing, but it did.
Dean hadn't gone quietly.
Gabriel looked down at his wrists. He twisted them against the ropes and smiled, slyly.
"Did you get a thrill when you stripped me down and tied me up, Daddy? Huh? I can see why Dean thought you were the one fucking him, instead of Beck. Maybe that's what Dean really wants. Maybe that's what you want? Tell you what, Papa. You untie me and I'll be nice to you. I'll be your good little boy," Gabriel rumbled softly. "How's that?"
John laughed. "I don't know who you are or where you came from, sweetheart, but I'm really gonna enjoy getting rid of you."
"You really wanna know what Dean's been up to for the last four years?" The smile on Gabriel's face meant that he was all too willing to share that bit of news. That also meant the news was unpleasant.
"Enlighten us."John shrugged carelessly. He'd already told Sam what Missouri said.
"Oh, I don't think you really wanna hear this, Daddy." Gabriel tilted his head to one side. "My family hunts humans. We hunt 'em for sport, and we hunt 'em for food. Me and Dean? Well. We've eaten white meat. Dark meat. Killed a lot of people these last four years. Men. Women. Kids." Gabe's tone was casual, indifferent, as if he was reading a grocery list. He looked Sam in the eyes and smiled. "And you know what? Dean could have stopped me a long time ago if he wanted to."
"You're a damned liar," Sam snapped.
"Am I? Well, you got your thoughts on the matter." Gabriel smirked proudly at Sam, then John. "Hell of a thing, Daddy. You couldn't protect your woman. Or your kids. Pathetic."
Gabe's left ankle trembled and shook against the ropes. The motion was small at first, then increased until his entire left leg nearly vibrated.
"Damn it," Gabriel whispered to himself.
"You wanna talk about pathetic? That's you. Next few days are gonna get pretty lively for you, princess," John drawled lazily. All those drugs you took at Sweetbriar? You're going cold turkey."
Bobby Singer appeared in the doorway behind the Winchesters. Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "Gonna kill you for what you did to Missy, old man."
"I'm shaking in my boots," Bobby huffed. "John? Can I see you for a moment?"
"Sure."
John glanced at Sam, and the younger man nodded. "I'm good."
Gabriel shuddered. His chest hitched with each breath he took. He stared blankly into space, couldn't hide the way his body was reacting. He needed his meds now, and that was exactly what he wasn't going to get. This was only the beginning.
Sam glanced down at his right hand.
Soon, Samuel. Very soon now.
Lim's scars over his left hipbone twinged a little, thrummed his nerve endings like fingers lanquidly stroking guitar strings, one at a time.
Such a beautiful, broken child. I shall leave some for later.
Sam stared at the confused look on Gabriel's face, and he had to remind himself: Gabriel, not Dean.
"How's Sam?" Bobby nodded.
"Good. He's solid."
"Well? You get anything useful out of our little playmate in there?"
"Usual stuff. Damn spirits mouth off just as much as demons do."
Bobby's eye roll was just as classic as Dean's on a good day. "You do know about ectoplasm, right?"
John seemed puzzled, then slightly offended. "Not my first time at the rodeo, Singer. Angry spirits leave a residue, sometimes on their surroundings."
"Okay. I'm willing to bet that same residue affects their victims somehow, when they possess a human body. This family of his, I don't think they had to tie Dean down, or drug him. If Dean came out during the past four years, chances are pretty good he would have been disoriented, unable to fight back. Gabriel's the stronger one, so he assumed control again. You know we need to find out what's keeping that bastard here, and then burn it."
"I was thinking…"
"That's not good," Bobby snarked.
The look John gave Bobby was pointed, but there was no real heat behind it. "Maybe we can track his family down, find out where they live. Burn the place down to the ground. That ought to do it."
"What if he's buried somewhere on the property, and not in the house?"
"Salt and burn the earth. All of it," John said simply. It was a statement of fact.
"You are one crazy sonofabitch."
John's anger finally bubbled up to the surface. He pointed at the room behind them. "That…that…thing has been inside Dean for the last four years. I'm getting my boy back, safe and sound, and every sonofabitch who ever laid a hand on him wrong is gonna pay for what they did to him."
"Speaking of which, I'm surprised you didn't drag Beck out here, alive or dead."
John looked thoughtful. "We had to haul ass, remember? Either way, I'll see him later."
"Winchester, you're not serious."
"Yeah. Yeah, I am. You call that Barnes woman yet?"
"Pam?" Bobby sighed. "Yeah. She and her group have exorcised a spirit before. Dean will probably have to wear protective amulets for the rest of his life so that the bastard can't jump back in." Bobby sighed. He raised his right hand, thumped his middle three fingers against his chest, right on the space over his heart. "I was thinking of a tattoo. Right here."
John actually smiled. That was a little frightening. "That'll work. Good."
His cell went off then. The smile on John's face faded a little as he put the device to his ear.
"Yeah?"
"This is Clyde Fletcher. Me and Emmett got your truck off the parking lot at Sweetbriar, Mr. Winchester. We're coming in."
"No, you're not. This isn't your fight. I want you boys to get to a motel, hole up there, and call me in a day or so."
"Hell this isn't our fight," Clyde said stubbornly. "My family pays our debts."
"You already have."
"Sir. I don't mean to be disrespectful, but we ain't going anywhere until this is over with."
"You show up here, and chances are pretty good that those bastards will follow you right in. You show up here and I will kick your asses myself."
Clyde huffed noisily.
"Do what I said, all right? Watch yourselves. Make sure they don't track you. Hole up, and lay low. You hear me? Clyde?"
Another exasperated exhale of breath. Then: "Yes sir."
John cut the connection. "Damn kids."
…not again…not again...
"A-Abr'ham…no…pl-please…" Gabriel pleaded. "I didn't…didn't touch her…"
He was down on the cold ground again. Abraham looked angry.
"…never did…why you doin' this to me, huh? I didn't…didn't…"
Abraham lifted the shotgun up, and it wasn't Abraham anymore. It was that shaggy haired boy, that Sam, and he was mad about his brother.
"…no…damn you…leav' me alone…leav' me alone…"
The boy changed into the father, dark and angry, and Gabriel watched as his finger tightened, then pulled the trigger.
Gabriel jerked back hard against the chair. His eyes snapped open. He stared directly at Sam, eyes wide and shocked. They were still the same dark green, but glazed over, too bright.
"After…after you gunned me down…never left." Gabriel slurred. "…never left…"
"Why couldn't you leave, Gabriel?" Sam said quietly. He could still hear John and Bobby in the room behind him. Mostly John. Sounded like he was on the phone.
Gabriel shook his head as he stared at Sam. "Couldn't. Saw the light…didn't wanna go…"
Sam waited. It was obvious Gabriel thought he was someone else, probably that Abraham bastard.
"You remember…the stuff Pa taught us? The hoodoo marks and signs?" Gabriel's voice trembled, as if he wasn't sure that "Abraham" would answer him.
Sam nodded.
"Didn't bother me none. Kept the others quiet." Another bark of laughter, wild and somewhat hysterical. "They were 'fraid of me, ya know that?"
"Kept who quiet, Gabe?"
"The spirits. The ones we hunted." Gabriel scowled. "Why don't you remember that?"
"Just needed remindin'. Tell me about the boy. That Dean."
"Him." Gabriel snorted. "Way Missy tells it, he was a gift. First night I saw him…you saw it too, right? Looked just…just like me. Missy saw. She knew. Told me later it was all meant. God's word to her." Gabriel looked down at his hands, and he couldn't understand why he couldn't raise them up. He finally stopped trying and the smile he gave Sam was weak and tired.
"Missy likes to keep things. Teeth. Bones and stuff. She makes wind chimes out of 'em." Gabriel laughed. "Missy really likes them." His moods slipped and shifted. Sam had the feeling that whatever this was wouldn't last. "Why am I telling you this? How come you don't remember this yourself?"
"Gabriel, what's keeping you here?"
"Missy," Gabriel wheezed. "Gonna be mad at me for leaving."
"What's Missy got of yours?"
"Look in her damn Bible, will you!" Gabriel snarled hoarsely. He swayed back and forth in the chair.
Crap, Sam thought. When was the last time Dean had something to drink? He walked past Gabriel into the kitchen. A moment later Gabriel licked his chapped lips, gazed dazedly at the uncapped water bottle Sam had in his hand.
"Don't want any. Get the hell away from me with that."
Sam lifted the bottle towards Gabe's lips. He wouldn't let Dean suffer because of this bastard.
"Said I don't want it!" Gabriel jerked sideways in the chair, and Sam knew that the moment was over.
Gabriel laughed crazily. Oddly enough, it reminded Sam of a hyena's laugh, dark, wild and insane. "This thing we got? It goes both ways. Dean's just too damn stupid to realize it yet. I know a little 'bout your family. The way you lived after your momma died. People called your daddy crazy. Looked at you boys like you were trash. Am I right about that?"
Sam didn't answer.
"That kinda thing wears on a man after a while, even a big damn hero like your brother. You really think he doesn't have a dark side? He does. He didn't stop me before, when we hunted and killed those people. He didn't want to."
"You're lying. Dean wouldn't ---"
"He wouldn't? He had a lifetime of being spit on by the same people he tried to save. He wanted to dish out some of the pain, boy." Gabriel was positively gleeful. "He's a Bender, all right. Right down to his core. And what the hell do you care, anyway? You were embarrassed by him. You didn't 'preciate him when you had him around, and now you're all torn up about him being gone for four years?" Gabriel snorted in disgust.
Sam's right hand balled into a fist.
Gabriel chuckled dryly. The laugh hitched in his throat, turned into a dry, rasping cough. "Go ahead," he grated. "Hit me."
"You son of a bitch," Sam whispered.
"That's right, hit me." Gabriel rasped. "Hit me, 'cause then Dean will exactly how you feel about him. He's the real reason you left for school. Wasn't because you wanted normal, was it, Sammy boy? You couldn't measure up to big brother, and you hated him for it."
"No. You're wrong." Sam put the water bottle on the table behind him.
It was time.
"I've done things these past few years." Sam laughed, a mixture of sadness and fondness. "I know I wouldn't have done them if Dean was around. "
Gabe's eyes widened, startled, at the sudden change in Sam. He could deal with rage and hate. That was easy? This? This was something else.
Sam looked down at his right palm. His lifeline looked a lot different now, like the starburst of jagged scars Lim carved into his hipbone. "Dean can hate me for that. He can. I can't take you out of him. I wish I could, but I can't. But what I can do is make his pain mine. Make Dean more comfortable, not you. I love my brother. I love him enough that I don't care if he hates me for what I'm about to do."
"Get the hell away from me, you freak ---"
Sam placed his right palm on Gabriel's chest.
He could feel it all, the quick and frantic pace of Dean's heart beat, like a horse stung repeatedly by the whip. Sam breathed, and his own heart beat sped up. He staggered a little as pain, sharp as an icepick, lanced into his own left hip.
Sam forced himself to breathe, deeply, slowly, even as his own lungs suddenly labored to pull in air. He could absorb only so much, but he took in what he could, pulled it out of Dean's body.
It was for Dean and Dean's body, not this loathsome sonofabitch who'd taken over for the last four years. Sam stared into Gabriel's eyes, and he saw the exact moment when everything changed, at least for a while.
Gabriel's eyes lightened.
Sam blinked.
The eyes staring back at him were bright green and aware. They were the mirrors to the soul Sam had searched for the past four years.
"Sam," Dean whispered sadly, "what the hell are you doing?"
Next post Friday.
