17

Well Red

"Demons," Rigsby said for probably the hundredth time.

"Yes, demons. You want to say it one more time just to be sure it's still there?" Cho asked, agitated.

"Sorry," He said, standing. "But this is a little much to take in, don't you think? I mean, ghosts, fine, monsters, okay, angels, a little much, but DEMONS?"

"Wayne, calm down," Van Pelt sighed, her fingers on her temples. "This has been a long night for everyone."

"Especially Jane," Cho said. Rigsby sat down. "We need to keep it together for his sake. He's been through enough without us losing it too." Van Pelt nodded in agreement.

"It's a lot for anyone to take in," Castiel said from his spot at the window. "But Kimball is correct. Sam and Dean are going to need all of your help to take care of this demon. And Patrick doesn't need any of this nonsense."

"'Nonsense'?" Rigsby said.

"Yeah, he's telling you to get over it," Cho said plainly. He looked at Castiel. "So what are Sam and Dean doing now?"

"They're trying to figure out who in this building is possessed by the demon." The agents looked at each other.

"Right, someone we know," Van Pelt breathed. Cho shook his head, staring down at his hands.

"You…" Rigsby began, "you guys don't think it's Lisbon, do you?"

"Why do I have to drink this?" Lisbon asked, staring at the glass of water Dean had handed her.

"It's to make sure you're not the one hurting Patrick," Dean said. She frowned, looking insulted.

"I-"

"Lisbon, just drink it," Sam sighed. She took a drink, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did. Sam and Dean sighed.

"Alright, so it's not you either," Dean said, taking the glass from her.

"Lisbon, is there anyone else in the building?" Sam asked. Her brow creased, as if she were thinking.

"Uh, besides the maintenance guys I think everyone else went home," she said. The brothers exchanged glances.

"We're gonna have to search the whole building," Sam said. Dean sighed.

"I'll get everyone else," he said. He looked at Lisbon. "Stay here with him. I don't wanna risk leaving him alone again." She nodded.

"I wouldn't have left him anyway," she said, pained eyes looking at Patrick, who was deep in sleep. He nodded and headed to her office, Sam in tow.

"Alright," he said, stepping inside. "We're gonna teach you guys how to hunt demons."

The three agents looked at each other warily before looking at the hunters.

"This wasn't in my job description," Van Pelt sighed.

"Cas, your mojo still works, right?" Dean asked. The angel looked at the floor. Dean and Sam looked at each other again, shocked, this time. "Alright, conversation for later."

"I'll get the holy water," Sam said.

"Yeah, I'll grab Dad's journal and the chalk."

"Chalk?" Van Pelt asked.

"We'll explain," Sam assured quickly, digging his now ringing phone from his pocket. "Bobby, hey, something wrong?"

"Yeah, you could say that," the older man said. "This Fear guy can't be exorcised with somethin' in your Dad's book. This thing's a real son of a bitch to get rid of."

"How bad is it?" Sam sighed, his hand over his eyes.

"Pretty damn bad. It takes a ritual, a damn old one too."

"Did-"

"I got it right here, idgit, don't worry."

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'. Now, I can send you the exorcism. It's old Latin, but you can stumble your way through that, right?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Now here's the tricky part, kid. Devil's Traps don't work on this thing. Nothing'll really keep it still. Rocksalt and holy water might piss it off, but it won't do any real damage."

"So what do we do?"

"I'm gettin' to that. You're gonna need to make some sort of altar; you remember how to do that, right?"

"Yeah, I remember." The last time he had to do something like that was almost three years ago to banish what they thought was an angel, but yeah he remembered.

"Alright. You're gonna need to get some of that Holy Oil from Cas. It's the only thing that'll keep him in check and get him outta there. You'll need to burn Asafetida, Elecampane and Pennyroyal and some of that holy oil in a sacred basin. So find a bowl and have Cas touch it or somethin'. Burning that after you say the exorcism is the only way you can get that thing the hell outta there, alright?" He explained.

Sam read over the paper he'd been scribbling on one more time before nodding in approval. "Alright. I think we can handle that."

"You'd better hurry up," Bobby warned. "That thing gets a hold of your brother and you're screwed. This thing just doesn't live on people's guilt about dead relatives. This thing is an angst vacuum. The more someone's got, the more he feeds off of 'em. I think we both know what's stuck in Dean's head. Yours too, for that matter."

"We'll be careful, Bobby," he assured. "Thanks again."

"Hey, call me when this blows over, alright?" Sam smiled at the older man's worry.

"I will."

"Alright, bye."

"Bye."

Sam turned to the expectant faces behind him, smiling meekly.

"What'd Bobby want?" Dean asked. Sam sighed.

"You might want to sit down. This'll take a minute."

-Sorry it's so short folks! More next time!-