A/N: I'm back! I'm so sorry for the wait! The Ulster Fleadh was held in my town this year and it took writing out of my mind completely, but I got back to it eventually :) Thanks for keeping patient everyone! Big thank you to the lovely reviewers from the last chapter: Tala White 14, No one important, MysteryGirl7Freak, AlexatheNerd and Medsall: Each review means the world guys, I can't thank you all enough! Huge thanks of course also goes to everyone who has favourited and followed the story so far! :D
Disclaimer: Not mine :(
I'm gonna shut up now and let everyone move on to the actual chapter, do enjoy! :)
Cas brought the Winchester's to a sheltered area among some trees close to the old warehouse. The Guardians had used one of North's snowglobes and, to the brother's surprise, had arrived to the chosen spot a split second before them.
"Will you be able to go in?" Dean asked, looking towards Cas for confirmation.
"No. It's fully warded." Cas replied, his earlier guesses being confirmed.
"Ok, looks like it's just me and you Sammy." Stated Dean as he patted his brother on the shoulder. Both men gave nods to the group, refreshing themselves on the plan once more before heading off towards the building.
"Jack Frost." Crowley announced as he entered the room Jack was being held in. "Spirit of Winter. I must say it's quite an honour." He continued, a slight mocking tone to his voice. "It's not every day someone like me meets someone like you."
Jack glared heatedly at the demon. Despite Pitch's best efforts, his body was quickly recovering and he could feel his strength returning. Once the dark nightmare sand had been sufficiently destroyed, the speed at which his wounds had worked on repairing themselves was quite remarkable. "Different social circles, you know how it is." He quipped in reply, blatantly ignoring the annoyingly cocky attitude of the demon before him. "Am I supposed to know who the hell you are?"
"Name's Crowley."
"Well Crowley, why are you here? Better yet, why am I here? It's not like a demon to help with something without some sort of motive; why help Pitch?" Jack questioned forcefully, impatient for answers. He knew all too well that he would not be in his current situation if not for the involvement of the black eyed creatures.
Crowley gazed thoughtfully at the defiant teen before him. Truthfully he was surprised and grudgingly impressed by the immortal's resilience, but then he supposed he should have expected as much; unthreatening as he looked in the present, the boy before him held mountains of power within him. "Now Jack, no need to get all worked up." He began, when seeing the boy still refused to break his deadly glare he continued. "What do you know of Lucifer?"
Jack's anger broke to be replaced with shock once he heard the unexpected question. "The devil? Not much, what about him?"
"He walks the earth." Crowley responded simply, as if that was all the answer Jack would need.
"I don't follow, what does that have to do with me?" Jack pressed.
Crowley glared at Jack, growing peeved at his questions. "The devil thrives in the cold. There were rumours that he would seek out the Spirit of Winter himself to plunge the world into an ice age." Crowley replied smoothly. "Naturally, I can't let that happen."
Jack raised a dubious eyebrow at the demon, "So you think I'm going to help the devil?" Allowing his voice to portray how ridiculous the notion was.
"No of course not, you're a Guardian! But you're not the only winter spirit out there, are you?" Crowley questioned rhetorically. "See, not all of us support Lucifer and his plans, and once we heard these theories, we got to thinking." Crowley paused for a small moment in thought, gazing towards Jack like he was nothing more than a piece of meat. "Not one of us knew of a way to kill an Immortal, so if Lucifer did pair up with a dangerous one, we'd be able to do nothing but stand and watch!" Crowley explained, his voice rising for emphasis the longer he spoke. Jack remained totally silent, afraid to jump to any early conclusions about the demon's involvement.
Crowley smirked and strode over to a blanket covered table that had been in the room as long as Jack was aware. He had thought it to just be an old table with old computers and the like covered by an old sheet like the ones you would expect to see in old buildings such as the one he found himself in. As the demon whipped off the sheet, however, he found himself to be extremely mistaken. Jack's breath flushed out of his lungs as he took in the array of different implements on the table. His fears were being realised, and Jack did not know how much pain he could put up with; between the whips, the long recovery from those marks, the nightmares and his staff being snapped, once again, before his very eyes. Jack had only just gotten some reprieve, and now, that too was to be broken in front of him.
The demon reached for an apron, reminiscent of the ones worn by crazy mad scientists in bad movies. "Do you have any idea how unique you are Jack?" Crowley questioned as he fixed the apron over his expensive, black suit and fixing a pair of reasonably thick gloves over his hands. "There are two groups of immortals: Nature and Legend, and you sit atop both of the food chains." Crowley explained as he turned towards the Guardian of Fun, pleased at the fear that seeped past his defiance becoming evident through the boys empathetic eyes. "Don't you see," He continued, "If I can crush you, then I can squash any immortal that will dare pose a threat to me."
"You've already took out my powers, what more could you want?" Jack questioned, bravely keeping any hint of quivers out of his voice. A demon's skill at inflicting pain was legendary, and he refused to show any vulnerability in the face of such an adversary.
Crowley smirked, "I want to find your weak spot. And I don't mean belief. It was foolish of Black to rest his hopes of triumph on what the little brats of the world believed in." Crowley paused, reaching for a blunt, black metal bar sat in front on the table. "If you want to do something, you're best doing it yourself."
"What are you doing?" Jack questioned as the demon moved towards him.
"Shh," Crowley shushed, which only made Jack more uncomfortable. Without any further warning, Crowley swung the bar, making impact with the underside of Jack's ribs. The spirit gasped and growled as the wind was knocked from him, but the demon merely lifted the bar and looked at it quizzically, as if it had not done it's proper job.
"Hmm, not iron then." He mused. Jack just looked at him with a pained expression, letting out a low groan in response.
"There's someone here." Announced one of the two demons blocking the main entrance of the building. He pricked his ears for any sounds, eyes set on scanning the overgrown grass in front of him watching for any further movement. He had sensed human souls close by and he was willing to bet it was the Winchester's, especially since Crowley had just informed them that they were in town.
Sure enough, Dean Winchester stepped out from between the grass, smiling at him cockily from across the small clearing.
"Right in one!" Dean called, his voice thick with sarcasm.
"Winchester." He greeted, eyes shooting black in the face of a threat.
Behind him, he heard his partner grunt in pain. He turned and was met with the sight of the younger Winchester brother, the vessel, pulling that nuisance of a knife out of his companion's back. He turned back towards Dean, starting to back away from both men slowly but as soon as he turned, Dean plunged an angel knife through his chest and he felt himself fade into unconsciousness.
Once the demon had fallen to the ground, Dean looked towards Sam, "We good?" He questioned.
"Yeah." Sam agreed.
"Let's go then."
The brothers entered the building opting to first go left in search of the sigils. They had toyed with the idea of splitting up but ultimately decided against it, agreeing that it would be better to get the job done safely rather than quickly.
Using their torches, they scanned the entrance room of the building for the symbols or any dangers that might be lurking in a corner somewhere. The room was reasonably large, with a high ceiling which stretched right up to the top of the first floor. There were stairs leading up to the first floor, and a balcony ran along the sidewalls of the large room.
It was at the wall where the balcony ended, the front wall of the building which had the entrance door, that Sam spotted two of the sigils. As they looked closer, casting torchlight on the walls, they found that the entire surface was covered in sigils in every reachable area.
"Dean." He called quietly, gesturing to his finding. Dean nodded in response before following Sam up the stairs where they followed the balcony to the markings.
"These are the two angel ones, do you see any of the others?" Questioned Sam as he sprayed an 'X' on each of the symbols.
"I'm looking." Dean replied, his light scanning the area. "They're all at the bottom, a couple of feet apart." He announced, illuminating each one as he did to show Sam each drawing, before they returned to the bottom floor to finish that wall.
Crowley paced back over to the table, putting down the rod and lifting instead an oversized container. Jack watched the older man carefully, trying to pre-empt what was coming based on the demon's movements. There was no indication as to what was in the container, but he doubted it was anything good. Crowley swung the container, splashing him with the contents. Jack closed his eyes as he readied himself for the pain that was sure to come. Yet all he felt was a slight heated tingle that lasted merely a few seconds before hearing the rattle of something hitting the floor around him.
Jack opened his eyes in confusion, looking towards the demon who had approached him and was currently watching for Jack's reaction, before looking towards the substance which was now scattered on the floor below.
"Salt." Jack stated, a laugh bubbling to his lips, the pain in his side momentarily forgotten. "Salt," He repeated dubiously, looking towards the demon, a wide smirk on his face.
Crowley just narrowed his eyes, glaring at the boy in front of him. The clogs were spinning in his head. Truly, he had thought the salt would have more of an impact, if not because he was a spirit then because his entire existence revolved around ice and ice yields to salt.
Crowley strode back over to the table, pouring some salt into one of the bowls beside a can filled with water. He took one of the knives on the table and dipped it first into the water before covering it with the salt. He had a hunch this would have a bit more of sting to it, plus, even if it didn't, no-one liked getting salt in their wounds.
He strode over to the white haired immortal, ignoring the boy's questions and protests once he realised saw what was held in the demon's hands.
Crowley drew the blade over Jack's pale white skin and smiled at the result. Where the knife came in contact with the boy's blood the red liquid began to steam and hiss angrily. It would appear that immortals didn't like salt either, they just had a more durable outer protective layer than other spirits and of course, demons.
Jack's face had contorted into one of pain as he gasped and panted in an attempt to remain in control of his body. Crowley could see it, he was reaching the boy's threshold. He looked over Jack's shoulder as he saw the Bogeyman materialising from the shadows, obviously having been drawn to the tangible fear which permeated the room.
Crowley had to admit that he had never been as exposed to salt as Jack was at the minute. He was king of the Crossroads and people generally don't torture kings. But he had heard stories of the pain. So Crowley could only imagine the agony Jack was feeling as he drew the knife over his cool skin before plunging it into the guardian's side.
Jack jerked instantly in protest to the knife once it delved deeper into his body, breath rushing too quickly into his lungs before he let out a horrendously pain-filled scream. The sensation caused by the little white grains was unexplainable, it truly felt as if his body was burning from the inside. Crowley grinned maliciously at the sound, and unbeknownst to Jack, Pitch reflected the demon's expression with a taunting smile of his own.
Crowley moved to turn away from Jack, who was now panting in breaths to help soothe the ache he felt from the knife wound, but he paused as he watched Pitch receive a message from one of his nightmares. The Bogeyman grimaced angrily before gesturing to Crowley that they needed to talk in private.
Crowley scowled before setting down the knife and making his way towards his companion.
"What is it?" He demanded in a hushed voice.
"The Guardians are outside, they are with a stranger." Pitch replied.
"Just one?" Crowley questioned in response.
"Yes." Pitch confirmed. "Will your defences work?"
"Well if they weren't the Guardians would not be outside at the minute, would they?" Crowley snapped. "But still, station groups at the entrance, we don't want to be caught short if they do manage to get in."
Pitch nodded in confirmation before relaying the instructions to his nightmare, ordering it to gather the others. He then left to speak to Crowley's demons, while Crowley himself turned back to continue his work with the Guardian of Fun.
The Winchester's continued around the building, keeping their footsteps light and silent, weapons at the ready and senses on guard as they knew that not even the shadows around them were safe. They reached a corner and once around it, they were stood in a long, dusty corridor that had several doors placed on the wall to the right, leading to various other rooms in the building. On the wall to their left, they struck gold. There were once again countless sigils scattered around the surface of the wall and it was not long before they had found some they were looking for and cancelled them out.
As they turned toward the third wall they were met with a dark horse storming towards them. Dean acted on impulse, grabbing his machete and swinging it at the creature just as it was about to collide into him. To his great relief, the horse dissipated into black sand once he struck it. Both him and Sam shared a bewildered look. "What the hell was that?!" Dean questioned.
Sam shrugged, shaking his head slightly before responding. "Must've been a nightmare."
They didn't have long to recover from the encounter as they heard hooves rushing towards them from both sides. Readying their weapons, the brother's tensed in preparation for the attack. Before long, the first of the dark animals rounded the corner. There was not as many as they had feared, and though vicious looking, they were reasonably easy to dispose of. A few demons accompanied them, providing a bit more of a challenge, but between Dean's borrowed angel blade and Sam's knife, they got the job done quickly.
Once finished, they continued down the corridor, cancelling out the desired sigils on the way. It was as they were making their way towards the final side of the building that they heard a blood-curdling scream pierce the silence of the building. Both brother's came to a stop as the wind began to batter the building as if in response to the cry, yet they felt no draft nor breeze hit them from through the cracks in the walls and windows. Goosebumps flashed over their skin in a flash as they registered the increased eeriness of their surroundings. It only took a glance between them for the pair to acknowledge the increased urgency of their situation before they set off to their task once again.
The final sigils were cancelled out without incident and once complete, the two moved towards the entrance foyer where they had arranged to meet with the rest of their group. As they came towards the large entrance hall, they could hear what sounded like a fight in progress. The brother's rushed towards the scene, remaining hidden around a corner as they peeked out at what was happening below.
From the looks of things, the four Guardians, along with Cas, had been swarmed by an army of nightmares and demons as soon as they had made their appearance in the building. Though they all seemed to be managing quite well, they were quickly becoming overrun. The once gentle and caring appearances of the guardians had turned transformed into the sights of seasoned warriors, and Cas remained as fearsome as ever. There were piles of sand littered everywhere, but it was the demons that seemed to be proving most problematic for the group, with Cas being the only one who was able to kill. Dean moved to help their friends, but Sam held him back, shaking his head.
"What are you doing?!" Dean growled at his brother, "We need to help them."
"Dean, if we go out there now we'll be putting ourselves at risk too. They must not know we're here, I'd like to keep it that way." Sam replied, ever the strategic voice of logic.
"But they're gonna kill them!" Dean said angrily, affronted by his brother's lack of concern that their group, especially Cas, was in danger.
"They won't kill them! But we can't help them if we've got ourselves in trouble too." Sam reasoned, and Dean had to grudgingly admit that his brother was right. And so they waited, and watched as the Guardians yielded to the combined onslaught of nightmares and demons and then, finally, Cas.
"C'mon," Sam said, pulling his brother away from the scene.
"Where?" Dean questioned.
"To find Jack."
A/N: Have to leave it there for now but I'll be back (hopefully sooner than with this time) with more. Thanks so much for reading and if you really want to be a star could you please leave a review to let me know what you thought? Please? :) Thanks guys! :)