Memories & Demons

Chapter Nine

Singer Salvage, Sioux Falls, SD:

Dean Winchester's life had been hell, quite literally, recently and though he had honestly believed that it couldn't get any worse that recent events, the words that came from the mystic's mouth just then threw what calmness he might have had, out the window.

So far in recent months, he and Sam had jump started the damn Apocalypse, he'd nearly gotten his brother killed by allowing him to go off on his own, he'd been tossed five years into the damn future to find out that Lucifer plans to inhabit his little brother's body while his older self had not impressed Dean at all.

Now, Sam had been battling the guilt of losing Jo and Ellen Harvelle on top of all the other guilt he carries. To find himself hurt seriously, mentally regressed back to a time in their lives that Dean still didn't have all the answers to and now…now somehow in the midst of saving Morgan in West Virginia, Sam had picked up a stowaway…a rather violent and really bad stowaway, and it all just crashed down on Dean.

"You do realize that .45 won't hurt me very much, right?" Jack MacShayne finally asked curiously when Dean didn't move the weapon from where he'd had it in his face.

Hearing something crash from inside the bedroom he and Sam had always shared snapped Dean back when his forearm went flat into the mystic's throat. "How is my Dad in Sam and how the hell do I get him out?" he demanded, fighting to keep both panic and fear down. "Give me a damn straight answer ir I find out if that demon killing knife hurts you."

Jack's muscle in his twitched while considering the cost if he fried this one but a whistle from the steps had him biting back the urge. "I told you, all the powers that were floating around in that damn town screwed up my ability to feel something as meager as a spirit. It wasn't until my brother Ethan called, yes he uses a cell phone, to ask if I got rid of the ghost that was hanging around your brother that I realized something had attached itself to him. It wasn't until I got here that I could tell what spirit but…" he paused to throw a dark glare toward Bobby Singer. "I wanted to get to you three before the spirit could gain control so I could toss its butt out but I had a problem with some crazy old hunter in a wheelchair with a goddamn shotgun trying to shoot my head off!"

"You could've just said that!" Bobby snapped back, still fingering the weapon. "I ain't letting someone in my place with powers like you got, boy!"

"I passed the damn Devil's Trap, old man!" Jack was still furious and didn't see the need to mention that passing over that Devil's Trap hadn't been easy but not impossible for him since his mother's blood diluted whatever he got from his father.

Not wanting to hear anymore, Dean shoved Jack back against the wall harder and didn't care at the spark of power he felt go up his arms. "Get the door open and get him out of Sam or at least get me in there!" he ground out, hissing as he felt pain. "She can't take him on while he's in Sam because Morgan would rather die than hurt Sam, I know that."

"Yeah, so do I," Jack muttered, finally having enough of being manhandled and shoving the hunter back physically. "Getting in now, however, is going to be a huge problem because the crazy old man here has every ward, sigal, and spell in place on this house to make it nearly impossible for me to use my powers to any degree," he complained bitterly. "Until I can get at least one wall down, I can't get into that room and I can't pull your Dad's spirit out either so…"

"So Morgan's trapped in a room with no weapons, essentially no power to speak of yet and the spirit of my Father who hates her is in my brother…who I know she'd never raise a hand to even at the cost of her own life," Dean whirled to slam a fist into the door but didn't feel it budge. "Sammy, you can fight this!" he shouted, hoping his brother could hear him. "And Dad, you hurt either of them when I do get in there I am so kicking your ass outta my brother with a load of rocksalt!" he added loudly, nearly doubling up as pain went through his side and he knew that he needed in that room. "Cas!"

Assuming what Dean wanted, the Angel considered. "I can probably get you into the bedroom but can you handle Sam?" he asked, understanding the complex relationship between the brothers. "If your friend won't harm Sam, can you if it comes down to protecting her or dealing with your Father?"

That made Dean stop because he knew that after everything that had happened between them, he had swore to himself never to raise a hand to his brother again and while it wasn't Sam in control, it would be Sam's already battered body taking the abuse. "Why the hell would Dad want to possess Sam?" he demanded bitterly, laying a hand flat on the door as if trying to get an idea of what was happening in the room. "How could he?"

"That whole area was like one big gate for the supernatural and since no one knows were your Dad's spirit went after it escaped Hell that night, I'm guessing that's how he reentered this plane of reality and as far why?" Jack shrugged. "Got me since my baby brother's record keeping of the boss's time with you are few and far between but I suppose he's using Sam since as his son it was easier to attach itself to."

"This is bad," Bobby muttered, wheeling closer to where Dean was now pacing to pound a fist on the door. "John! You let that boy loose, get outta him, or I'll do what I swore to you I would that day at Jim's!" he hollered but no sound came until a scream was heard and only a quick move from Castiel had Dean held back. "John! Damn it, you let both those kids go!"

"Yeah, I'm guessing Winchester isn't in the frame of mind to listen," Kelly Robinson spoke from where he'd been leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs. "I mean, his relationship with Sam was strained for years and he would've killed the kid if…don't reach for that shotgun, Singer," he warned, realizing that he'd come too close anyway to saying too much.

Dean was now staring between them, teeth gritting. "Alright," he breathed as if trying to control his temper. "I know about the fight Morgan and Dad had before I woke up in the cabin and I still want to know about what the hell happened the night she ran but…" he stopped to look directly at Bobby. "I also know that my Dad, in the state he was in that week, wouldn't have just let me and Sam stay out all summer with a girl he barely tolerated, so care to tell me what you or Pastor Jim said to make him leave us alone? Or didn't he want to look for us?"

"Boy, you got more to worry about than that," Bobby growled, going to wheel around when a hand grabbed the chair. "Dean, it don't matter none what happened because even though John backed off for the summer he made up for his temper later on now…"

"Tell me!" Dean snapped, stepping in front of his friend. "Morgan and Sam are both in danger! I need to know everything about that damn summer because even if I can handle this crap with Dad, I still have to get Sam's mind back out of the past. I don't think having Dad in his body is gonna help this because the way Morgan was acting, something happened that Sammy didn't know or doesn't remember because she kept saying that he couldn't remember what really happened," he declared, seeing the older man's head drop and threw his arms up. "Bobby! Dad was furious and out of his head when he dropped us on Jim. He couldn't have taken being threatened by a little girl too well and he sure as hell shouldn't have just let us go without even trying to…"

"Jim threatened to turn him into CPS if he didn't let you boys go that summer," Bobby sighed, jerking his hat off as he did when upset or frustrated. "I just threatened to shoot him in the damn head, cut him into little pieces and bury him so far in the ground the wildlife couldn't find him and raise you two myself if he didn't back off."

Blinking, Dean couldn't believe either man had responded like that but knew that after the events of that summer his Dad was leery about going back to Blue Earth and only dealt with Jim Murphy as a last resort. "Fine, you tell me about it while Cas finds me a way into that room and you two geniuses find me a way to slow my Dad down until I get him out of Sam," Dean spoke as he headed downstairs to grab something from Bobby's library.

"What exactly are you going to be doing?" Jack demanded, not liking this plan.

Pausing at the top of the stairs to look back, Dean's eyes drifted to the sealed bedroom door and two people he desperately needed to get to. "Brushing up on my Latin," he shrugged. "Bobby, talk!"

Inside the Bedroom:

"Dean!" Morgan had felt the change in the room only a second before her friend was forcibly shoved into the hall and the door slamming shut. "Sammy?" she was already pushing to her feet when a 6th sense warned her to move and she barely avoided the dresser drawer that was sent flying her way. "Sam! What the bloody hell's gotten into you?"

Not fully stable yet, Morgan knew she couldn't handle the younger man in a fight even in his weakened condition because even hurt, scared, and confused, Sam Winchester had been taught to fight by the best of them and at 6'4", a good full foot taller than Morgan herself, she gave up too much in height and weight.

Hearing Dean pound on the door but not be able to open it, told the young woman that something was clearly wrong. She knew about Sam's powers and his addiction to the demon blood, but she could feel both and this didn't feel like those vibes. This was a completely different feeling, one that was oddly familiar if only she could clear her brain enough to think.

"Sammy?" without thinking, Morgan reached to lay a hand on her friend as she normally would but wasn't expecting the sizzling pain that ripped through her when she was physically thrown across the room to crash against the dresser. "Sam…wha…"

This time when he turned, she could see his normally calm, wide and innocent hazel eyes had a harder glint to them and they weren't quite the right color and she knew before she heard him speak what was happening. "Sammy's taking…a nap and can't help you this time."

"Sam and Dean both…have anti-possession charms tattooed on them so there's no bloody way anyone could possess Sam," she stated, fighting not to hiss in pain while struggling to get up while hearing Dean shouting from the hall. "I'd feel a demon and Angels don't possess vessels like that so…" Morgan stopped as Sam's body cracked his knuckles and she knew. "Bloody hell," she whispered. "John."

"A spirit, especially one related by blood, isn't going to be deterred by those marks. You should know that," Sam spoke but the tone was different. It was harder, colder and so much like John Winchester that Morgan didn't have any further doubts who was controlling the injured hunter. "Even so, only with Sammy being this hurt and his mind not being stronger enough to resist allowed me to get in and take over."

Finally getting to her feet, Morgan suspected this was going to be bad since she had a hunch that she was on her own. "Get out of Sam," she ordered, diving to the side to barely avoid the lamp that shot at her head. "He's been through too much. This could kill him or make it harder to get him back!"

"Sam's mind is shattered. He's holding on to the thin line that he is by force of will and even that can break," 'John' replied, not seeming too concerned about his youngest son's mental or physical health as he waved a hand and one of the beds lifted off the floor. "Right now, he's an easy tool."

"That's all the boys have ever been to you!" Morgan snapped, hand shooting up on instinct to enact powers that should've been able to stop the bed but quickly realized she was still too weak after confronting Lucifer to have the energy needed for this fight. "Shit, shit, shit!" she dodged the bed but not cleanly as she felt the edge of the heavy frame clip her still injured shoulder and she couldn't stop the pained cry. "So…you've locked Dean out so you can use his brother for…what? To get to me?" she demanded, figuring this fight wouldn't last long with as weak as she was and now that her arm was next to useless. "You could've done that without touching Sam."

The expression he offered was nothing like Sam could ever have brought to his face, not even at his worst during a demon blood high. "Except as a pure spirit there wouldn't be anything to stop you or those freaks you work with from reducing my spirit form back to nothing," he replied easily, stepping around the broken furniture to catch her already injured arm and twist it roughly behind her back. "I knew you wouldn't harm this body since neither you nor his brother will touch Sammy so that's a plus."

"It's…Sam," Morgan gasped in pain when he twisted her arm again before she was slammed into the wall across from the door. "Only…Dean can call him…Sammy."

"You have," 'John' remarked, memories still plain as hearing her call his youngest son by that nickname he knew the boy normally hated.

"Sam…let me use it," she shot out, refusing to let this thing inside her friend take from him the one good thing he and his brother still had. "You…don't have the bleedin' right to use it. You're pissed because I took the boys away that summer and because I stopped you from touching Sam here…so kill me and get the hell outta him."

Using his other hand to pull the knife that had fallen out from under Dean's pillow when the bed had gone flying, 'John' lightly let it press against her throat. "You left out one other thing, little girl," he told her, voice going cold even as his eyes slid to the door that Bobby was now shouting through. "You and your interference nearly cost me my boys because Dean knew better than to ever let Bobby know anything about what happened in our lives. Your show not only told me that my son was too stupid not to recognize evil when he saw it but it let Bobby know about Dean's injuries that time," gripping her hair hard, he pressed the knife more against soft flesh. "I didn't appreciate that…"

Flashback: Blue Earth Montana, 1995:

"John, you get your ass back here cause I ain't done!"

Pastor Jim Murphy closed the journal he'd been writing in at the first sound of doors slamming and shouts coming his way and he reached for the already loaded and cocked rifle he'd placed by his desk after he'd talked with Caleb earlier. "Well, I guess hoping that he'd calmed down some in a week was foolish," he sighed even as the door to his private office slammed open. "Hello, John. Good hunt?"

He had spoken to Bobby a day or so after Morgan had visited with her not so subtle warning so he'd known what had happened between the Winchester boys father and the teenager. He'd also known that Bobby was a step away from killing John.

Clearly that hadn't happened…yet. Though he wasn't going to say it wouldn't soon by the way his friend now looked as he stormed into the office.

"Where the hell are my boys?" he demanded, slamming both hands down onto the desk. "I told you to lock 'em in their room but keep them here! Now, I find out that Dean's little 'friend' should've been put down the second I first laid eyes on her. Did you know what she was, Murphy?" he asked angrily, still feeling rage and humiliation at being put down by a teenage girl half his size. "Did you know that she was a…"

"Do you recall when we first met I told you that in this business you would, on occasion, encounter something of a gray area?" Jim countered, nodding his greeting to the obviously still pissed off Bobby Singer while guessing that Caleb was probably raiding the kitchen already. "Well, Morgan falls somewhat in that gray area. Yes, she has abilities but no, she's not like what we hunt. She's…"

"…a goddamn freak who I'll kill myself if she touches my sons!" John snapped, leaning over the desk so that he was close to being in Jim's face. "Now, where the hell are my sons?"

Sitting back with more calm than he actually felt, Jim steepled his fingers even as Bobby was trying to pull the enraged man back. "I can honestly say that I don't know where they boys are, John," he admitted, even though he had a strong hunch he wasn't about to tell John that. "Given Dean's condition and how upset Sam was, I agreed that it was for the best that they and Morgan go somewhere for the summer, both to give the boys a chance to heal and for you to get your damn self together."

"You self-righteous, sanctimonious…" John Winchester's face went past livid as he jerked free of Bobby's grasp. "I left those boys here because I thought you could watch them! Now, it's been a week and I'll have a hell of a time picking up their trail to find them and drag them…"

"You're going to leave Sam and Dean alone until the end of the summer, John," Jim told him firmly, knowing this was going to be hard and praying that Bobby backed him up. "You're going to hunt with me or Bobby and Caleb until the end of the summer when the boys will be at Bobby's. You are not going to go hunt them down like rabid dogs…you are going to leave them out and leave them the hell alone."

John stared at the Holy man like he'd grown two more heads before he busted out laughing. "You think I'm leaving my sons out by themselves with a girl that Dean should've killed the first time he met her? You seriously think I'm going to allow them to get away with disobeying my direct orders like this?" he demanded with a snort of disbelief, shaking his head. "You're more insane than I thought, Jim," he growled, turning to storm out of the office. "I'll go find them myself and then I'll make certain that both of those boys understand never to disobey me again or…"

"Damn it, John!" Bobby snapped, starting to grab the other man when the rifle fired once, striking the wooden doorframe a half inch from John's head, stopping him cold.

"John Winchester, you take one more step and I'll put the next round through your damn heart," Jim snapped, the sound of the rifle cocking again could be heard in the now silent office. "Sit down, John."

Turning slowly to see the rifle was steadily aimed at his heart, John slumped down on the sofa against the wall. "What, you're going to keep that rifle on me the entire summer, Jim?" he laughed. "You know as soon as I do leave here, I will find my sons and I'm going to…"

"No, you won't," Jim interrupted, lowering the rifle but not setting it aside as he sat himself down in the chair across from his angry friend to explain the situation as he saw it. "Yes, you are Dean and Sam's father and neither Bobby nor I have a legal right to tell you how to raise them," he began, seeing the trucker cap wearing hunter about to explode when he shook his head at him. "However, and this is the part you need to pay close attention to, John because I am perfectly serious and very willing to act if you don't."

"What?" John demanded, leaning up. "What do you think you can do to threaten me not to go drag my boys back from wherever that little brat took them?" he inquired, knowing deep down not to underestimate the Holy man turned hunter but ignoring those senses.

Jim reached for a folder on the side table near the chair. Placing it on the footstool near him, he removed a final drafted, very official looking letter as well as some very nasty looking photographs of Dean's most recent injuries. "I don't want to do this but if you go after those kids before the summer is out. If you try to touch any of those children ever again and I find out about it, I will see that this file gets delivered to every Child Protective Service agency around the country," he threatened seriously, seeing Bobby's eyebrows about to crawl off his head. "Both Bobby and I've warned you about physically abusing Dean or Sam, John. You beat Dean so much I was afraid he'd slipped into a coma at one point. There was a goddamn boot print on that boy's side! If you try to find them or touch one of those boys again, I will personally see to it that you lose your sons."

While John's jaw was working around that threat, Bobby had snatched the photos from Jim to look at them for himself. He'd had a bad idea from the girl's words that the older boy had been hurt pretty bad to send her after John but it wasn't until he saw the colored photos of all of Dean's numerous bruises, welts, cuts and finally the boot print that nearly caved his ribs in that he saw red.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" he didn't give a damn if this was Jim's hand to play once he saw that last photo he'd made up his mind, grabbing a startled John up off the sofa to slam several hard punches into his face and gut before slamming him against the wall. "What the hell did you think you were doing, John?" he demanded angrily, still clutching the photo that had made him livid and shoving it into his friend's face. "I don't give a rat's ass if you think Dean failed to keep Sam safe! I don't care if you were mad and lost your temper! This ain't no damn whippin' or punishment for your son! This is the kind of beatin' you give a man who's wronged you or tried to kill you but you don't go beatin' on your own son like this!"

As John struggled against the hold, Bobby yanked the .45 he carried out to shove the barrel against the other man's cheek even as Jim was standing up. "I knew you were beatin' on that boy but goddamn it, if I had known you'd done this, hell I would've killed you up there," he growled, making sure John was getting the point. "You can take Jim at his word for what he'll do to ya but you can also listen real closely to me because I'm only saying this once…"

Bobby rapped the butt of his gun hard against John's still sore head before cocking it meaningfully. "Jim might be willing to do things legal, but I say the hell with that crap cause if you get the hint of CPS on your ass you'll just take the boys under ground so no one finds 'em so here's my warning to ya, John," he growled in a lower tone, fully serious. "If you go after those boys of yours before they touch my property or if I ever find out that you've hurt one of them this bad ever again, I'll shot you full of so many damn holes that you'll bleed out like a damn colander. Then I'll cut you into so many pieces and bury you so damn deep that not even the best scavenger will find you!" he promised. "You getting this, John or do you really want to tempt me? You don't ever put your damn hands on Dean again or I'll kill you and raise 'em myself!"

"Whoa, what the hell's going on?" Caleb asked as he walked in to immediately feel the tension between the three men before his gaze fell on the photo in Bobby's hand and his sandwich was forgotten. "Shit! What the hell…awww, man."

Finally shoving Bobby away, John glared at the two men. "Fine!" he spat. "You want 'em left alone all summer so who knows what could go after 'em, fine! Just don't ever threaten me because they're still my boys and I know how to raise 'em," he declared firmly.

"Then I hope for your sake that you remember what it means to be a Father and not a damn Drill Sergeant, John," Jim replied, sighing as the man stormed out and they heard the sound of the Impala leaving with a roar. "Damn it."

Present Day: Singer Salvage:

"You twisted the minds of my boys and nearly cost me two good friends but then…Dean believed what I said, didn't he?" 'John' remarked, making Sam's hand press the knife harder into his friend's throat.

Morgan found that she couldn't break the hold he had on her hair or summon enough power to shove him back, not that she could without hurting Sam and she didn't like the way the hall had gone silent too quickly.

Looking into Sam's eyes, she couldn't find any trace of the gentle young man and wondered just how much farther he'd been pushed aside by this intrusion. "Jim and Bobby…did what they thought they had to…to protect the boys, John," she spoke tightly, feeling the blade cut as she did but refused to show fear to a man who had done so much harm to his own sons even if Dean didn't know all of it.

"I lost Sammy because of the lies you put in his head!" 'John' snapped, anger reminding her eerily of that last day here. "You think I'd lose Dean too? Sure, I lied to him about why you left him but then he never found out, did he? Sam doesn't remember…yet."

"Sam doesn't need to remember that," Morgan argued, the first trace of worry surfacing since she knew that Sam was filled with enough guilt. The he didn't need to fully remember what had happened that day on top of his other memories of just a few days prior when they'd first arrived in Sioux Falls. "Damn it, John. Don't punish Sam anymore than he has been. Just kill me and leave him alone."

Taking the tip of the knife to lightly run it down her cheek, 'John' stared into her eyes and didn't like that the only fear he saw came for her concern for Sam. "They were my sons," he replied lowly. "A son should respect his Father. My boys did until they first met you and…"

"You lost your sons when you tried to turn them into little soldiers," she snapped, willing to take the blame for a lot but not this but screamed when the knife pieced her already hurt shoulder.

"Dean never questioned me! Until he met you!" 'John yelled, jerking the knife out without care and smiled as the young woman cried out again. "You don't think I know you were watching my boys even after you left? I did, always after the fact cause if I could have killed you then I might not have lost them all the way."

Gasping in pain but ignoring the cold and sudden nausea, Morgan forced her eyes to hold his. "You…lost them because of your own damn stubborn pride, old man," she gritted between clenched teeth to keep the pain back because the way he had her arm twisted, it was bleeding far more than she liked and she couldn't get the tiny link she still shared with Sam to work either. "You made the damn deal. I came to that bloody hospital as soon as I heard about Dean being in a coma. I could've healed him but you refused to let me. You called the bloody security so I couldn't heal Dean."

"I wasn't letting you use those unholy powers on my son!" he snarled, fist crashing into the side of her face several times before in a show of the rage still inside even a spirit he threw the nearly unconscious young woman hard into the corner and had just started to reach for her throat. "I would rather Dean have died if I couldn't make the deal than let him live that way! I would have had to kill both of my boys if you had touched him," 'John' responded hotly, fingers just closing on her throat. "It was bad enough that evil touched Sam to turn him into what he's become. I wouldn't see Dean touched like that."

Pain and shock was making staying conscious difficult when a soft fluttering sound made Morgan look past the shoulder of her friend's body to see… "…Dean…" she whispered, beginning to see white spots as Sam's fingers were forced closed around her throat.

"Dean can't save you, whore," 'John' growled when he suddenly heard what sounded like a shotgun pumping and a voice that nearly made him lose control of his younger son's body.

"Wanna bet?" Dean's voice was hard as he lifted the shotgun even as his brother's body was turning to stare at him with eyes that were so not Sam's. "Step away from her, Dad."

Frowning at his older son's appearance, 'John' didn't worry too much as he turned to face his son but kept Sam's hand on Morgan's throat. "You won't shoot that, son," he told him, smiling. "If you did, you'd only hurt your brother and we both know that you won't…"

The shotgun fired and the round of rock salt struck Sam square in the chest, knocking him backwards toward the other corner but also breaking the grip he had on Morgan's neck.

"Cas, get him downstairs!" Dean snapped though he heard the sound of the Angel disappearing with his little brother's currently occupied body even as he was dropping to his knees beside his friend. "Morgan!" he immediately took in the blood pouring freely from her shoulder, the blood and fresh bruises on her face and the way her arm was also still partially behind her. "Angel!" he gently eased her arm around and knew with the first touch that it was also dislocated, but what concerned him more right then was her difficulty in breathing.

Looking around quickly, he saw that Cas had unlocked the door once they'd gotten in to allow access to the others but before he could yell to a mystic or anything his attention was pulled to the weakly grasping hand that had grabbed his amulet. "Hey, hey, take it easy. I'm here and I'll deal with him," he promised quickly, easily drawing her into his arms when he winced as he felt a smack to his chest.

"…you…shot…Sam," Morgan mumbled, throat still not wanting to bring air in correctly and refusing the sudden need to hold on to her friend.

"Yeah, he was trying to kill you so I made a choice. Sam blasted me through a wall with rock salt at a much closer range than I was to him just now," Dean returned, rolling his eyes as he lifted her up gently to lay her back on the bed that Jack and Kelly had gotten mostly back upright. "The rock salt won't hurt Sammy anymore than having an angry spirit inside him will," he added, seeing and feeling her shake as shock set in. "I'll deal with this," he promised her.

Grabbing for his arm before Dean could move, Morgan shook her head. "Sammy…Dean, you can't let him hurt…" she struggled with the words when she felt his hands gently cup her face. "My fault that…John hates…not Sam's…stop…"

"Sleep," Dean told her suddenly, seeing her eyes jump to his and knowing she'd fight this if she could but also knowing he controlled the link right then since he was stronger. Before she could work up the urge to resist he lowered his voice to a whisper that only she could hear when he lightly brushed his lips close to her ear. "Sleep, Angel," he whispered firmly, pushing their link in a way that he had only once before and slowly felt her going limp. "I'll get Sam and I'll handle my Dad. He won't hurt either of you again."

Jack was scowling more as he seen this stunt but stayed silent as he watched the young hunter stroke the back of his hand down Morgan's face before turning.

"Heal her!" he ordered without giving a care that his tone wasn't usually accepted by the mystic. "I don't give a care about the wards or anything in the house. Just fix what he did to her while I handle my Father," Dean's eyes were cold as he ran out the bedroom door without listening to the warnings being shouted to him by Bobby Singer.

"You know, I could so easily reduce that kid to smoking ash and not think twice about it," Jack mused, gazing at his now sleeping friend and wondering just when the hell Winchester had learned to use that link to such a degree without knocking himself out. "Remind me again, why I don't?"

Covering his grin with a hand, Kelly coughed. "Two reasons, actually," he admitted, eyeing the door. "First, Dean's top on the boss's 'Do Not Touch or Kill under Penalty of her frying you' list and the second would be Bobby aiming a shotgun at you again."

"Yeah, those would be it," Jack muttered, hoping the older man had removed enough wards so that he could use enough power to heal the woman before Dean really did try that damn knife on him while also hoping the boy knew what he was doing downstairs.

Downstairs, Panic Room:

While the unexpected blast from rock salt had both hurt him and took him by surprise, 'John' was still able to maintain control of his son's weakened body. Groaning, he rolled to his feet to find himself in a round room made of pure consecrated iron that was also covered in pure salt with a Devil's Trap in the center of the room that held a bed and little else except a dark haired man in a trench coat. 'John' tried to access Sam's memories to see who this was but the boy's thoughts had gone too far back in the past to be of any use there.

"Dean should know that Devil's Traps won't hold a spirit and nothing can so long as I'm in my son's body," he shook his head, more than a little disappointed in his eldest right then. "I thought I taught him better than to let emotions rule his judgment but then…"

While Castiel had lost a great deal of his powers since siding with the Winchesters, he still had a few and he called on a small portion of that now to force Sam's body back to steps when it went toward the door. "Actually, Dean does know that," he replied. "The room is to keep you from harming anyone else Dean cares for. I am what will keep you inside until he arrives."

'John' again looked at the trench coat wearing man to feel the difference in him and realize that wasn't another hunter or one of the girl's friends but before he could gauge it, the heavy metal door opened to allow his all but seething son to enter. "Dean."

Shutting and locking the door from the inside, Dean made certain that Castiel knew to guard that door under penalty of him letting Bobby find an anti-Angel spell before he met the colder, darker eyes that were looking out of his brother. "Get. The. Hell. Out. Of. My. Brother."

Each word was perfectly stressed as he held those eyes that he had once looked up to with such respect but now could barely stand to think about. "Why're you doing this, Dad?" he asked, setting the shotgun to one side. "You have to know Sam's hurt. That he's too weak for this crap."

"Yes, but your brother was my only option to…"

"To do what? Make your son weaker? To hurt my friend?" Dean demanded, stepping closer to see that his little brother's face was getting more pale as this went on and just hoped he was strong enough to do what he had to both all of them. "You just tried to kill someone who means a lot to both me and Sam, Dad."

'John' frowned deeply in a way that told Dean that he wasn't happy with that comment. "I thought we covered this, Dean," he remarked slowly. "She was just using you and…Dean!" he snapped when the boy lunged, grabbing Sam by the shoulders to push him back against the wall.

"You lied to me!" Dean shouted, all his anger and hurt for the last fifteen years coming out suddenly. "You said she just picked up and left but you lied! You did something to make her leave, Dad. Sam said he heard you and Morgan fighting but it was something else, wasn't it? I've seen her shoulder. You tried to kill her, didn't you, Dad? Didn't you?" he demanded, head snapping back as a fist hit his jaw hard.

"No, not at first," 'John' admitted grimly, rubbing the knuckles absently and not liking the way he suddenly had to force his will harder to keep his younger son dormant as if making him hit his brother had stirred something in Sam. "She got involved in something that she shouldn't have."

Motioning to the Angel to stay back, Dean wiped blood from his mouth but he'd also caught something in his brother's face…a single tear that fell and offered a silent apology. "What? What did you do that she'd get involved in?" he wanted to know, not understanding.

Dean knew he'd left Morgan sleeping upstairs because after the event in town a few days earlier, she'd been too hyper, too afraid for Sam to sleep so he'd pushed their link to put her to sleep. He'd been confident when his Dad, who had arrived earlier, suddenly made him go into town for something that she'd sleep right through it. Nothing should have brought Morgan out of that sleep except…

"Sam," he whispered, a hard sick lump forming in his stomach as his gaze shot up. "You went after Sam, didn't you?" he demanded tightly, voice thick with emotions that he'd buried when his father's spirit refused to answer. "Damn it! You didn't want me out of Bobby's house so you'd have a clear shot at Morgan. You wanted me gone so you could go after Sam! Sonuvabitch! You tried to hurt Sam and that's what woke Morgan. That's why she got involved," he realized even before Sam's face pinched but he caught the way his brother's hand had started to shake and he didn't know if Sam was fighting the sudden possession or if his Father's spirit was making it do that. "What the hell did you do to him, Dad?" he demanded in a rage, that only his fear of hurting his brother more kept him from lashing out physically.

"I had told Bobby that I was going to…handle your little friend while you were out because I didn't like the influence she had over you," 'John' began with a sigh. "I wasn't certain what had gone on while you were gone all summer but I wasn't about to let my oldest son get involved with a monster because if I had even thought you had touched her like that I would've been sick. Bobby stormed out before we came to blows but your brother he came at me out of nowhere and just starting screaming that I wasn't going to hurt her or you ever again and…I…slapped him at first. But, Sammy, God, he just wouldn't stay down and finally I remember grabbing him by the shirt and I think he hit the corner of the mantle before I hit him. Then I was shoved away from him and I heard her yelling for Sam to run."

Fury was blinding Dean's normal instincts as he thought to the fear Morgan had showed about Sam remembering that fight. Sam had told him in Oregon that he'd listened to the fight from the top of the stairs and it was after Morgan had left that John had shoved him until Bobby got involved. So either his brother was lying or…or he didn't remember the fight right. 'Damn it, what the hell did she do?' he wondered a second before he heard his name shouted.

"Dean!" Castiel had noticed his friend becoming distracted. He'd also noticed the glint of light off of metal. "Look out!"

Snapping back to attention, Dean's eyes moved to catch sight of the switchblade that he had no idea where his brother or father had gotten the blade to feel the blow to his still sore ribs. "Cas, get Morgan and Bobby out of here!" he yelled, going down to one knee with the blow but grabbing Sam's wrist as he did to twist but didn't dodge the kick that knocked him flat. "Now, Cas!"

"You need help," the Angel clearly was torn when he caught the look in Dean's eyes and reluctantly vanished.

"Sammy! You can fight him!" he called, grunting as he felt the kick in his ribs and memories flashed back to another fight but this time he wasn't sixteen. "Dad's control is only as strong as what you give him!"

'John' shook his head, making a fist and hitting Dean's cheek with enough force to draw blood. "Sammy's gone, Dean," he replied sadly. "Even if I wasn't in here, your brother is as good as brain dead this time. Besides, after costing you Ellen and Jo, aren't you better off without him?" he asked, punching again until his eldest went still and he looked at the switchblade. "I'm sorry, son. I can't let you stop me this time. That girl should've died the summer you were sixteen before she could do so much damage to you because my boy, the son I raised to fight the evil that killed your Mother, would've known better to get involved with a goddamn witch," he replied, gripping the switchblade tightly. "You really should've done what I told you in the hospital, Dean. I know you loved your brother but Sam…he's just not that brother anymore…you'll forgive me one day, boy."

Lifting the knife, 'John' forced Sam's shaking hand to slash the blade toward his still brother's exposed throat…

TBC

A/N: I know, I know. Talk about cliffhangers. Will Sam find the strength to fight this possession or is he gone forever? Will Dean survive the next few moments just to lose his brother anyway? Just what did John do that fateful night fifteen years ago and why doesn't Sam remember it all and what else happened? Yep, CH 10, folks.