When the Cradle Falls
Chapter Thirty: Suffer the Little Children
Reaching forward, Dean tucked a piece of hair behind Alice's ear as she got up. Walking across the room, she popped a cassette into the player which sat on a dresser. She pressed play and settled herself back on her side, facing Dean on the bed.
"...Hold on little girl. Show me he's done to you. Stand up little girl, a broken heart can be that bad..." The words softly came out of the speakers.
Dean snorted, grimacing a bit. "Really? Mr. Big?"
She shrugged. "Oh right. I forgot. Anything made after the eighties isn't music. You know, it wouldn't hurt to expand your music horizons a little bit, Dean."
"And you know there were books written after the nineteenth century. Just saying, it wouldn't hurt to expand your horizons, Allie," Dean teased.
With a playful surprise gape on her face, she reached across the bed and lightly shoved him in the chest. "You are such a-"
Stopping mid giggle, both Alice and Dean froze for a moment. Between them on the bed were two sleeping toddlers, conked out after a long day spent at a pumpkin patch, in the crisp fall air. Noah, who had been nestled up against Alice stirred as she had reached forward to push Dean.
When he finally settled back down with a deep sigh, both parents relaxed. "Thank god these two are such heavy sleepers," Alice said, voice quieter.
Looking down, Dean brushed a puffy curl out of Cara's pale face. His hand then reached for Noah's dark head, smoothing his crazy hair down. "They have the messiest hair," he said.
"You have no idea. It's such a nightmare to try and even get a comb near their head. You'd think I was trying to torture them."
Smirking, Dean allowed himself to absorb the moment. He had been there for two days now, Sammy and Dad once again thinking he was on another solo hunt. They were at Jan's house, who had gone out of town to some unknown destination.
They had spent the past two days together. Today they'd gone to a pumpkin patch that had a petting zoo and pony rides-much to the kids' delight.
And when they got home, the kids had been running around, hopped up on energy for the day, both insisting they didn't need to go to sleep. So, Alice had allowed them to go to bed with them, only to have the toddlers passed out within five minutes.
For the past two hours, Dean and Alice had been conversing quietly, their children sleeping between them.
The song ended, and there was a lull in the conversation. Alice sighed in contentment. "This is kind of perfect. I'm glad you're here, Dean."
"I'm glad I'm here, too."
Reaching across the bed, Alice placed a hand on Dean's cheek. "You, I never thought I'd feel peace like this."
Placing a hand over hers, Dean just nodded, not wanting to shatter the fragile reality of the moment.
He wished things would stay this quiet forever.
Everything was quiet. The trees created a canopy over the street, soft patches of sunlight streaming down onto the cracked asphalt and worn houses.
One of the houses, situated in the middle of a row, in the middle of the street, a pair of footsteps moving up the creaky stairs were quiet and deliberate. The breaths were coming in harsh, but shallow bursts. Everything was measured and calm.
Except for the hearts beating like battle drums.
Poised in front of the door, Sam glanced at his brother, shotgun held firmly in his hands. Dean nodded, one hand reaching for the knob, the other gripping his handgun. Turning the handle, the door squeaked open ominously, revealing a the dark interior of Jan's home. Both boys held their breath, not sure if something was going to charge them from the drab darkness of the home.
Leading the way, Dean carefully stepped over the threshold, letting his eyes adjust to the dim lighting. The place had always been a bit depressing, and hard to see in, and now, that only made things worse. Hefting his gun a little higher as he stepped into the living room, he saw nothing out of place.
Clearing his throat, Sam motioned upstairs with his shotgun, letting his brother know he would check the upper floor of the house.
Dean nodded slowly and continued from the living room into the dining room, where nothing was disturbed, quite the opposite. The china cabinet along one wall was covered in a fine layer of dust.
Dean had moved into the kitchen when Sam reappeared in the entryway, shaking his head that he had found nothing upstairs. It was almost as if they were all just gone. There was no sign of a struggle anywhere.
While Sam looked around the kitchen for signs of anything out of place, Dean moved to the backdoor, and stilled, when he noticed something.
Running a finger along the handle of the door, he inspected the residue left over on his finger. "Sam," he said lowly, staring down at the substance.
"What is it?" Sam came over and looked over Dean's shoulder, to the handle of the door.
Rubbing his fingers together, Dean knew what it was immediately, from the yellowish, powdery color quality. "Sulfur."
But this sulfur wasn't just sulfur. It had an almost orange tint, and was sticky, mixed with some other element.
"Is that…"
Dean nodded, confirming Sam's suspicions of the strange concoction."It's sulfur...and blood,"
Shifting his weight from foot to foot, Sam felt his jaw beginning to lock up. He pushed any morbid thoughts out of his mind, only able to imagine how close his brother was to losing it all. Grinding his teeth, he nodded silently and slid the door open, slipping out into the yard.
There was a light trail of sulfur and blood that led from the backdoor, to the garage, nestled in one corner of the yard. The door to the small structure was cracked open slightly, handle smeared in the orangish substance.
Once the brothers stood before the entrance, with their guns raised, Dean kicked in the door and the two burst into the room, guns trained tightly on the room. But before either could adjust to the strange yellow lighting, created by the window covered in faded paper, both of them were slammed back against the walls, heads knocking back violently. The entire structure shook at the force in which the brothers were thrown, causing both to black out before they hit the ground.
"Wake up...it's time to wake up….I SAID WAKE UP!" The voice that had barely been a whisper, floating in Dean's mind was suddenly too loud. And it was accompanied by a stinging slap on the cheek.
Jerking awake, Dean found himself unable to move very far. Blinking in confusion, he realized his legs were tied together, and arms were tied behind his back. Someone was pressed up against him, and he realized he was tied back to back with someone. Thinking it was Sam, Dean went to ask if he was okay, but stopped when he realized something was shoved in his mouth, to keep him from talking.
"Daddy? Daddy, is that you?"
Eyes widening, Dean watched in horror as Cara dropped in front of her father. There was a wound on the side of her forehead, like she had been struck by something. There were dried tears on her face like she had been crying. "Daddy? Why did you lie to us? Why did you-"
"Dean." The voice came from behind him. It was Alice. She was the one tied to him. "Don't listen to them. That's not-"
"Mommy, don't lie; that's a sin." There was the sound of Noah's voice, followed by the sound of a fist hitting flesh. Dean felt the impact of the punch, which forced Alice back into him. He also felt her slump forward, limp, unconscious.
Finally stepping into Dean's line of sight, Noah, knelt down in front of his father "I wondered when you were gonna come save us." Dean frowned, noticing the unfamiliar way Noah moved and the strange cadence in his voice. There was an inkling in the very corner of his mind that he refused to acknowledge.
A strange garbled sound was the result of Dean trying to say his son's name around the cloth shoved in his mouth.
"You've been lying to us," Cara said quietly, going to wipe a tear out of her eye. When her hand snagged on her glasses, she abruptly plucked them off her face, and shattered them in one hand, promptly dropping them to the ground. "All I wanted was the truth."
Dean frowned, staring at the crushed glasses, still feeling like he was in a nightmare, now entirely sure what she was referring to, but like other feelings he was trying to push down, he had a vague sense what she was talking about.
"Well, he's here now. He can tell us himself," Noah assured. He reached forward and pulled the gag out of Dean's mouth, so it hung around his neck. "Won't you, Daddy?"
"Where's Sam?" Dean asked when he could finally talk.
Displeased, Cara frowned, insulted. "Is that all you care about?" Jealousy seeped into her voice.
She paused for a moment, composing herself. "He's behind you. Still out. Got hit pretty hard. Aunt Jan's in and out." Turning as much as he could, Dean caught sight of Sam and Jan hung on the wall, like they were crucified, heads limp against their chests.
"Now," Cara reiterated. "Are you gonna tell us the truth?"
Dean frowned in consternation. His head was throbbing and he was still seeing double of everything. "What?"
Rolling her eyes, Cara looked at her brother. "How dense is he?"
"Maybe this'll wake him up. Hey, Dad." Turning to Noah, Dean felt his entire body stiffen when he looked at his son.
It wasn't the way Noah was smirking or the way his arms were crossed strangely.
It was his eyes.
They were black.
"Noah? No no no no no-"
"Noah's not calling the shots anymore,"
"Neither is your baby girl." Cara's eyes flicked black too.
With the two sets of eyes, deep as voids staring at him, all the feelings Dean had been trying to push down came surging up. Mysteriously waking up from a coma with a foreboding feeling sitting in his stomach. Leaving his father dead, on a cold hospital floor. The sound of Alice screaming into the phone for help. And now, watching his innocent babies' eyes turn coal.
It was his fault.
Everything.
All of it.
The demon possessing Noah nodded slowly, a small, smug smile beginning to blossom across his face. "I think he's finally got it."
Hit with clarity like a freight train, Dean's muscles tensed and he immediately began to pull against the restraints. As he fought against the ropes, Alice's motionless body flopped against his back, like a fish out of water.
It made him wonder: how long had Alice watched in agony as her children tortured her. And how long had his innocent children been prisoners in their own minds, while pure evil was calling the shots?
"Did Meg send you?" Dean demanded, imagining that blonde haired whore, wishing he'd gotten to torture her a little more before she was exorcised.
"She did," the demon in Noah affirmed.
"That bitch I-"
"Enough of that." The demon in Cara sat down, cross legged in front of him. Watching, the demon noticed how Dean shifted in the ropes. "Don't bother. We took all your weapons. And now that you're finally here, we're gonna play a game."
Dean bared his teeth. "I'm not playing any game with you."
The demon smirked. "Fine. Then exorcise me."
He glowered in dangerous silence.
Smug, she scooted closer up. "Thought so," she said in a singsongy voice. "How did you think you were gonna keep your precious kiddos safe when you don't even know a basic exorcism? See, Jan over there is like a walking Bible. She knows every exorcism forward and backward. We couldn't let her ruin the chance to have our fun. Like she almost did earlier."
"You think this is fun?" Dean spat back. He was shaking so badly from anger, someone might've thought he had a chill. But he was so so enraged that tears were threatening to seep out of his eyes.
Cara rolled her eyes. "Well...not yet. We haven't started our game first."
"What game?"
"I ask you a question. You answer."
"Why don't you just read my mind?"
She let out a laugh. "Oh. You think this is for my sake? No. This is for your daughter's and son's. See, the two of us having something in common."
"You two have nothing in common," Dean spat back.
"We don't like being lied to. All of us." The demon in Cara motioned to Noah.
"Don't include me in that, Phenex. Just because you're too naive to see the truth-"
"And just because you know everything, Murmur, doesn't mean I can't hope!" Phenex, the demon in Cara rose up and turned to face Murmur, the demon in Noah.
"There's no hope. You're never getting your paradise," Murmur taunted. "It's just a stupid fantasy. Just like your stupid game." Murmur shoved Phenex away from him. "Have your fun. But do it fast. I'm tired of this."
Shoving him back one last time. Phenex settled herself down in front of Dean once again, who was silently watching the two, disturbed at the dynamic between the two demons, while still looking like Cara and Noah. "I'll go first," she said. "Why have you lied to your children all their life?"
"Get bent, bitch," Dean spat, unable to control himself. The way Cara's face was twisted by Phenex made him want to kill the bastards. But at the same time, he saw his daughter's pale, fragile face, he couldn't think about the pure evil behind those eyes without wanting to break.
Phenex sighed. "Murmur. You wanna help me out here?"
Frowning, Dean watched as Phenex held up an arm. Smirking, Murmur came over, and without flinching, snapped the held out wrist.
"No!" Dean attempted to lunge forward, which resulted in a pitiful jerk.
Sitting back down, Phenex showed Dean the broken wrist. "I forgot to mention. If you don't answer a question, then Cara and Noah are the ones who are gonna be paying. So, just answer the questions, Daddy."
"Don't call me that," Dean growled lowly, still glaring at Cara's wrist, bent at a sickening angle.
"Then play the game," Phenex spat back, all playfulness gone from her voice.
"Fine."
"Why have you lied to your kids all their life?"
Dean's jaw worked hard. Scoffing, Phenex reached behind her, pulling out one of Dean's knives from her pockets. "I think it's time for the baby boy to take a hit."
Just as she was about to hand the knife to Murmur, Dean spoke up. "Okay! Okay! I lied to them to protect them! Keep them safe!"
Murmur's eyes flashed black, from where he leaned against the wall. "And how'd that work out?" He asked, sarcastically.
"Answer him," Phenex commanded, holding the knife out to Murmur once again.
"Shitty," Dean admitted.
"Must be a hard pill to swallow," Murmur commented.
"Shut up," Dean hissed, unable to take the smug look on the demon's face.
"That's it. I'm not gonna be disrespected by two hundred pounds of raw meat." Grabbing the knife from Phenex, Murmur sliced a deep, vertical cut downs Noah's forearm.
The small, soundproof garage was filled with the sounds of Dean cursing out the demons and at the same time, begging them to leave his children alone. He began thrashing against the tight, well-tied ropes, trying to get any kind of slack in the restraints. And all the while, his flailing and yells were enough to rouse Alice back to consciousness.
She awoke to the sound of Dean yelling at the demons in her children, and the demons taking turns taunting him and laughing. "What have you done?! What did you do?!" Alice began shrieking hysterically, not sure if she was yelling at Dean for getting them into this situation or for the monsters in her children.
Also awoken by the noise, Sam was furiously pulling against the cuffs, attempting to unlatch himself. His thrashing shook the entire wall. "Hey! Let me go!" He yelled. "Dean!"
"Omnipotens, qui fugabunt maligni spiritus invoco-" Among the chaos of the screams, Jan woke, and Latin words began to intermingle, causing both demons to twitch slightly.
"That's it! I'm gonna kill that bitch!" Murmur yelled. Looking around, he tried to find the knife he had cut Noah's arm with. "Where-"
But before Murmur could locate the weapon, Phenex let out a shriek, as Dean, free from his bonds, side tackled her, into the workbench.
"Dean, don't hurt her!" Alice screeched as she attempted to cut the bonds from the knife Dean had slipped into her hands.
Recovering from the blow, Phenex sucker punched Dean as he attempted to reach for a canister of salt. "You ruined my game. Now you're gonna wish you just sat down and shut up," Phenex hissed, grabbing Dean by the collar of his shirt. She knocked her head into his and threw him with tremendous strength into the window, which promptly shattered all over him.
"-fiat misericórdia tua semper Pater, nisi et hos-"
Muscles all over his body continuing to fasciculate, Murmur grabbed a bat that was nearby and swung it as hard as he could at Jan's head, promptly knocking her out.
Pulling against the restraints, Sam, now realizing in the chaos that his niece and nephew were possessed, he tried to appeal to Noah trapped inside. "Noah please, you can fight this!"
"He can't!" Murmur yelled back. "He's a child! You can shut up too!" The bat cracked against Sam's head.
The ropes around Alice's wrists were beginning to fray as she sliced the knife back and forth. She watched as the demon in her son beat in Sam and Jan's heads with a bat, face twisting in anger. He looked unstable.
"WHERE IS THAT KNIFE!?" Murmur shouted, looking around. Beginning to see red, he watched at Phenex continued to pummel Dean in the face.
Fine. If he couldn't find the knife, he have to use the next best thing.
Unceremoniously, Murmur took the bat and swung it, once over one knee. There was a sharp cracking sound, and the struck leg buckled.
"STOP! Please don't hurt him!" Alice begged.
"I want this family to suffer before I end them," Murmur vowed.
A familiar screech cut through the garage and Murmur turned to Phenex, face burning and flaky, as Dean splash holy water on her face.
Growling, Murmur hobbled forward, legs twisted at horrible angles.
As he was about to swing the bat over Dean's back, someone gently pulled him away.
Turning, Alice had him gripped by both shoulders, the knife loosely held in one hand. "Noah, please," she begged.
"You can see your children again in Hell," Murmur assured. Grabbing the knife, he turned it around on Alice, and stabbed forward in blind anger.
"NO!"
Before she knew what happened, Alice felt herself shoved to the side. Scrambling up, she watched as her aunt, who had pushed her out of the way, inexplicably free of the cuffs and awake from being hit by a bat, had a knife plunged into her heart.
"NO!" Alice yelled.
Immediately, blood began to pour out of Jan's mouth, as her hands went around the hilt of the knife. "-abolere bestiis animam. Amen."
The sound of low growling coming from deep within both children caused both of them to drop to the floor in epileptic seizures. Their bodies jerked in different directions as the demons fought to stay in their bodies.
But the parasites were no longer able to hold onto the hosts anymore, and black smoke simultaneously erupted from Cara and Noah's mouths, shooting through the ceiling.
The small, broken bodies stilled.
And for a moment, everything was quiet.
That was until the sound of Jan's body collapsing to the ground stirred Alice.
Rushing over to her aunt, Alice pulled Jan's head onto her lap as best as she could. She knew it was better to leave the knife in the wound, as opposed to pulling it out.
As Jan coughed, Alice placed her hands over her aunt's, still would around the hilt of the weapon.
"Jan, hey, it's gonna be okay," Alice assured.
"Those fuckers gone?" Jan asked, referring to the demons.
It took Alice a moment to nod. "Yeah they're gone. Aunt Jan, you saved us."
Meaning to scoff, it came out more as a painful cough. "It was nothing. Chin up, Allie; I'll see you on the other side." With that, Jan shut her eyes, coughing one final time, as her body went limp. Underneath her hands, Alice felt Jan's grip loosen.
"What? Wait wait wait!" Alice's hands reached for her aunt's face "No no no! Jan! Janet, come on you'll be fine!"
A moment later, Alice realized her aunt was gone. Gently removing Jan's head from her lap and laying her on the ground, Alice observed the carnage around her.
Sam was still passed out along the wall, an angry red welt on the side of his face. He had older injuries that weren't from today.
And then, Alice turned to Dean.
He had pulled both Cara and Noah near him. Bending over them, his head rested on the ground between their lifeless bodies, other two arms, clutching them to him.
Feeling her stomach twist, Alice fell to her knees, listening as Dean wept for their fallen children.
St. Philomena's Hospital
That Night
Dean hated hospitals.
Absolutely fucking hated them.
And now, here he sat, again in a hospital. Although this time he wasn't the one in a hospital bed.
But stuck in a chair between his two children, who were in beds was worse than being in one himself.
There was a quiet knock at the door. Dean looked up as the dim light from the hallway flooded into the dark room, from the slowly opening door.
"How'd the headscan go?" Dean asked, mumbling the words.
Sam shrugged. "What you'd expect. Concussion. Said they'd give me some painkillers for the next couple days." He came pulled up a chair so he was next to his brother.
"Where's Alice?" Dean asked. He hadn't seen her for awhile.
"She's with a priest. He's giving Jan her last rites."
"Right." Dean remembered. Jan was dead. He leaned back in his chair and stared up at the tiled ceiling.
"How are they?" Sam asked quietly, referring to the unconscious bodies of his niece and nephew.
"How are they?" Dean asked, voice breaking with small specks of anger. He glanced at Cara on one side and Noah on the other, tucked under stiff, white sheets. "How do you think they are? Noah has a broken kneecap and needed a blood transfusion for the amount he lost from the cut on his arm. Cara has a head wound, a broken wrist, and three broken ribs from where I tackled her.
"Doctors had to sedate both of them because they couldn't calm down enough to fall asleep."
Suddenly getting up from the chair, Dean had to go stand on the other side of the room, and look out the window, down at the Chicago traffic that never seemed to end.
Composing himself a little bit, he turned back to his brother. "They're in pieces, Sam. Because of me."
"What about you?" Sam asked.
"What about me?" Dean snapped.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm fine. My face got busted up. It'll heal." He had taken one look in the mirror earlier and hardly recognized himself. The entire left side of his face was red and swollen from where Phenex had wailed on him so many times.
And maybe he hadn't fought back as hard as he could have, because it was still Cara.
"That's not what I meant, Dean," Sam sighed, the fight leaving his voice. "Bobby called. He said the hospital finally released Dad's body to him."
Dad. Clenching his jaw, Dean nodded. Oh yeah, Dad was dead too. "Good."
Sam bit his lip. "Bobby also got the Impala towed out there."
Dean perked up a bit at the mention of his car. "How is she?"
Sam remembered Dean had been in a coma when he went to clear out the drunk. "Uhh...not great."
Huffing, Dean slumped back in his chair, not responding.
Crossing his arms, Sam shifted as he watched his brother. He knew Dean had been through so much in the past few days. Finding the demon, losing their father, the Colt, and waking up from a coma. Now, sitting between his children that had been told about the supernatural world in the most vicious way possible.
Dad was dead. Jan was dead.
The one who was the most physically intact was Alice.
But emotionally, Sam knew she was probably one of the most screwed up.
"Have you found anything out about those bastards?" Dean finally asked.
Glancing between the beds, as if needing to check Cara and Noah were actually asleep, Sam sighed when he realized what Dean meant. "Yeah."
"What'd you find out?"
Watching Dean's intense stare in the dark, Sam sighed and pulled out John's journal. It felt sacrilegious, but he had added a few new pages, as there were no notes on the demons inside them.
"Phenex, the one that was in Cara? Name is a variation of phoenix. Like the name, the demon was hoping to rise to heaven after a thousand years in Hell, but was deceived. Phenex is blinded by anger by those who do not keep their words, or hide the truth."
"That explains her sick, twisted game of Truth or Break a Bone," Dean muttered.
Sam nodded in understanding. "Some other notable features of Phenex include a sweet, melodic, almost childlike voice. Phenex is considered a kind of poet by some."
"Not by me," Dean growled lowly. "And the other one?"
"Murmur. Right." Sam flipped a few more pages and squinted in the poor light. He didn't want to turn on the lamp between the beds in case it disturbed Cara and Noah. "Here. Murmur. Known for his wealth of knowledge-"
Dean scoffed.
"It's said Murmur can answer the question any dead man may have. He's a philosopher. And he's often depicted as a vulture in Judeo-Christian theology."
"Yeah he was a vulture, alright."
"And the demon's name is derived from the sound of trumpets, which often signal the demon. And…"
"And?" Dean prompted, tired of Sam's hesitation.
"They take orders from Azazel."
"Who?"
"The yellow-eyed demon is named Azazel. Phenex and Murmur are his henchmen."
"Figures," Dean muttered, flopping back onto the chair.
"Dean," Sam tried again, seeing how quickly his brother was unraveling.
"Sam. Save it. We can talk more later."
Knowing it was just to shut him up, Sam allowed himself to be appeased by the words. "You need anything?" He eventually asked.
"A cup of coffee."
"Dean, you should really try to sleep-"
"I'll sleep when I'm dead, Sam!" The harsh words reverberated throughout the room, meaning not lost on either brother.
"Right," Sam said lowly. "I'll go get you that coffee."
And with that, Dean was left alone, once again, keeping watch over his children.
Hands shaking, Alice carefully pulled the sheet back over Jan's face. She glanced up at the priest who stood on the other side of the metal slab Jan's body was on. The man was tired, no doubt having to be called in the middle of the night, but his compassion and understanding surpassed anything Alice could have hoped for.
"I appreciate you coming out here so late, Father Makray. It was a really sudden death. And with everything going on, I didn't even think-"
The priest held up a hand. "I understand. But just know, your aunt is with God now. She's no longer in pain."
Immediately feeling herself begin to tear up, Alice covered her mouth. "Thank you," she whispered.
The priest placed a hand on her shoulder and offered some comforting words that she didn't seem to hear. Then, he was gone, and the morgue tech was pushing Jan back into her metal cubby.
Eventually, Alice found herself outside the morgue, where she slid down against the wall, until she was sitting, unable to cope any longer. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she cried at the priests. She knew Jan didn't believe she would ever end up in heaven. And deep down, Alice hadn't believed it either.
That made her cry even harder.
Then, she cried for her children. Both were laid up in hospital beds, injured and knocked unconscious. Their innocence had been robbed from them, and she had no idea how to go forward now. Everything had just shattered, but they were all still there.
By some miracle. They were still there.
They were there on a world that kept on spinning, not giving a damn what happened to them.
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
Leaning against the doorway to the study, Bobby took another sip of the whiskey, not even feeling the burn as it came straight from the bottle.
He had cleared away a table that was normally cluttered with books, situated in the corner of the room. But now, instead of books, the table now hosted the shrouded body of John Winchester.
Bobby knew it wouldn't be long before the body started stinking up the joint, but he couldn't do anything without those boys here. And now, they were both stuck in Chicago. Sam had called a few hours back, telling them everything that had happened, that Cara and Noah had been possessed, and mentioning that Janet Sutton was dead.
Hearing that Jan was dead had left Bobby with a strange, hollow feeling. He didn't know what name to give it. He and Jan were...friends. He guessed he could call her that. Really, the only reason the two were ever thrown into the same boat was because of Alice and Dean. They were both surrogate parents for two confused young adults. And those kids. Both of them loved those kids like they were their own grandchildren.
Sure, Bobby would talk to Jan on the phone occasionally, and she even dropped by once in a blue moon, but he hadn't really put a word to what they were.
But he liked her. She was sassy and carefree, even though he could tell she had deep seated, traumatic memories like him. He could see from the hardened look in her eyes that she had been through shit, seen some truly fucked up things, and it have made her stronger.
She had been a fighter.
And from what Sam relayed to him that Alice and Dean had told him: Jan had gone down swinging, in a blaze of glory, literally saving the day with her dying breath.
She had lived like she had died: wild and unafraid.
If that wasn't a woman, Bobby didn't know what was.
Clearing his throat, Bobby took another swig of the whiskey, moving further into the room, until he stood over John Winchester's body.
"You stupid bastard," Bobby muttered lowly. He stared at the whiskey in his hand, knowing it was John's favorite.
Sighing, Bobby set the whiskey down by John's head, and pulled a chair, close to the table. "I know what you did, you know," Bobby said, as he sat down.
"I don't know if those boys have figured it out yet, but I know."
Bobby took a deep, shaking breath.
"After all the times you abandoned them and let them down, you made me want to pump your ass full of buckshot, and choke the ever loving shit out of you, I always knew you were a selfish, sorry bastard."
Bobby glared down at the sheet. "Those boys grew up in a toxic, fucked up environment because you were so hellbent on revenge, you couldn't see straight.
"I was the one who taught them to throw that perfect spiral, instead of throwing a knife. I was the one who believed them when they said they had a broken bone, instead of telling them to man up. I was the one who gave them soup when they were sick, instead of throwing them a gauze bandage after they got scraped up on a hunt.
"I was the one that was there for them! While you were out losing your mind and tearing the world apart, I was the one here comforting those boys and telling them everything would be okay!
"I had to become a father for those boys because you were too obsessed with that demon to even stop and see how it was affecting them.
"You pushed Sam away and pushed Dean around. You turned them into soldiers, and forgot they were just children. They were just children, John! You stole their childhood, John! They never got to be kids because of you!
"And how did it all end? Huh? It ended with that yellow-eyed bastard getting you before you could get it. The Colt's gone. You lost your life. And for what?! Mary's still dead, and now so are you! Your sons are officially orphans because of you!"
Chest heaving, Bobby threw the whiskey bottle against the opposite wall, and watched in shatter. The sound reverberated with the angry words still lingering in the echoey room.
"I know you made a deal with that demonic bastard. I know John. I know. I don't know if those boys know yet, but they're smart and they'll figure it out. And how do you think they're gonna feel-how do you think Dean's gonna feel? You stupid bastard," Bobby muttered under his breath.
There was a lull, and Bobby stared at the shatter pieces of glass scattered across the floor. He sighed deeply.
"But in the end, you came through. You saved those boys. And after all the grief you caused me, I can only thank you for that.
"Still, I want you to know you're always gonna be a stupid bastard to me, John." Bobby felt himself smiling sadly, but lightly as the last phrase emanated through the room, eventually evaporating like a ghost.
Alice was coming back up from the morgue when she shoulder-checked someone rounding a corner. Spinning out for a moment, she grabbed the wall to steady herself. "Oh God I'm sorry-Sam."
Recovering from the sudden bump, Sam checked the coffees, which he held onto tightly. The lids were secure so nothing had spilled.
Noticing the piping hot drinks, Alice felt even worse. "Sorry. That could've been bad if you spilled those."
He shrugged it off. "It's nothing. You coming back from the morgue?"
She nodded. "Gave...Jan her last rites. Was about to call a funeral director. Jan always told me she wanted to be cremated but...the idea of her body burning? I couldn't bring myself to do it."
At the mention of a funeral, Sam felt a shiver go through himself. He knew his father was dead and that Bobby had brought the body back to his house, but Sam hadn't thought much further than that. He knew John would've wanted to be burned on a pyre, and that was something that should've been done as close to death as possible. And Sam knew Bobby wouldn't do it without the both of them there.
"Sam?" Alice asked, noticing how he suddenly paled. "Are you alright?"
He sighed. "There's something that I should probably tell you." Maybe it wasn't the best time to tell her-there was so much going on, but the news was gonna come out eventually and perhaps she could help reach out to Dean if she knew everything.
Alice immediately felt her walls go up. She couldn't take any more surprises or bad news. "What?" She asked cautiously, lowly.
"Our dad...John...he's dead."
"Was it the demon?"
Sam nodded. "I think so."
She wanted to ask a thousand more questions, but suddenly, like everything else bouncing around in her mind, a single, coherent thought couldn't seem to come to mind. It seemed like all the worries and things she wanted to know were trapped in her mind, no way to escape.
"I hate demons," was the only thing that she could formulate at the moment.
Sam nodded. "Me too." Glancing down, he stared at the cups of coffee in his hand. "Do you want one?"
Alice smiled grimly, trying to be reassuring. "No thanks." She didn't want her heart racing any faster than it already was. "Why do you have two, anyways?"
"One for me. One of them's for Dean."
Not saying anything, Alice just shook her head in disapproval as the two walked in silence, towards the pediatric unit.
When they reached the room, both paused in surprise when they saw Dean fast asleep, on the chair between the two beds.
It was as someone flipped a light in a dark room.
Noah's eyes were suddenly open, and he glanced around, confused, heart racing. Everything was so white and bright. Clean and innocent. He remained still, breaths becoming shallow as his scrambled mind raced in circles. Hearing the sound of blood rushing, Noah noticed he felt like he was falling sideways. Panicking, he ripped off the white sheet that was tucked around him.
He was about to launch himself out of the bed, when he heard a familiar voice. "Noah, don't."
Coming from the side, the voice belonged to his sister. And like him, she was also in a white hospital bed, a few feet away. She was propped up on the pillows like she had been awake for awhile. There was a white gauze bandage on her hairline. He noticed a white cast on her arm, which rested against the light sheets.
"What? What happened. Why are we in a hospital. Why-" He asked hoarsely, finding his voice. It felt odd, like he had forgotten how to control it.
"It took me a minute to remember too," she said. Her voice sounded far away.
"Remember wh-"
Cara opening the door in the middle of the night. The way the blackness of the night seemed to undulate. He remembered the feeling of choking on smoke as it invaded his nose and mouth. And then it felt like he was trapped in his own head: stuck at the bottom of a six foot deep, freshly dug grave, just shallow enough he could almost get out, but just deep enough that he would slide back down every time. He could hear distorted voices of what was happening around him, and could catch glimpses of it.
And like in the dream, he was yelling for help and for it to stop, but no one heard him.
And like the dream, someone poked their head over the side. Only, Noah had seen himself standing at the edge of the ground, six feet above. He had stared down at himself, with black eyes.
"Murmur," Noah whispered.
"Demons," Cara confirmed, the word nearly getting stuck in her throat. But once, it was out in the room, it hung there in the air, stagnant. Earlier, the word had magically generated itself in her head, with no warning.
Looking at up Cara, he watched as the whites of her eyes turned black suddenly.
Gasping, Noah blinked again, seeing her eyes back to normal.
"Noah?" Cara asked, carefully.
"You let them in," he accused quietly.
"What?" Cara asked.
"You let them in. I warned you. I warned you something was coming. You didn't listen. You opened the door and you let them in."
"Noah I-"
Suddenly noticing the bandage that was on his arm, Noah shivered as the memory of a knife slashing his arm flash across his eyes. And not only that, but his own body cutting himself with the knife.
With a loud, strangled breath, Noah nearly fell off his bed, as the next set of images bombarded the forefront of his mind. He remembered watching in first person as he stabbed the knife towards his mother, only to have Aunt Jan jump in the way. Remembering how it felt to pierce her flesh with the knife made Noah feel nauseous.
"Noah...Noah?" Seeing the glazed over look on her brother's face scared her. Climbing out of her own bed, Cara felt a sharp pain go through her side. In confusion, she placed a hand over her ribcage as she tried to ignore the stinging. The sick pleasure that accompanied the motion was not his own, but Noah had felt it like it was.
Reaching the side of his bed, she grabbed one of his hands with her unbroken one. "Noah," she said softly. She didn't know what else to say. "It's gonna be okay."
"No. No! Look at me!" With one fluid motion, he ripped the sheet off his legs, revealing a white cast. "I did this to myself. I can't walk! And look at yourself!
"And oh God oh God oh God! I killed Aunt Jan! You let them in! It's your fault you let them in it's because of you!" Noah's words dissolved into one, long, indistinguishable tangent.
Clinging to his hand, Cara refused to let go, needing some kind of anchor, even if that anchor was quickly sinking into dark, murky waters. She didn't say anything, just allowed the tears to silently stream down her face .She hadn't processing anything, but at least now she was expressing some kind of emotion. And at least Noah wouldn't hold it in, like she always did.
So Cara just knelt on the side of the bed, letting him weep for the both of them.
After Sam's constant nagging, Dean finally went to the cafeteria to scarf down a soggy breakfast burrito and a scalding cup of coffee. He hadn't meant to fall asleep last night, but had woken up just a few hours later, in the early morning, feeling guilty and groggy.
As he rounded the corner to Cara and Noah's room, Dean paused. Alice was leaning against the doorframe, hand clenched around the knob of the door, barely open a crack.
Coming from the room were the soft sounds of sniffling and quiet voices.
"Are they awake?" Dean asked-more demanded-rushing up to Alice.
She glanced at him and nodded softly.
"Why the hell are you just standing out here?" He didn't realize how harsh his words came off until he saw the stinging slap it landed on Alice's face. "I'm sorry I-"
"What am I supposed to say to them?"
"What?"
Flailing her arms, Alice pointed to the door, lowering her voice. "I can't even walk in there to face them because I don't know what I'm supposed to say! How am I supposed to look them in their broken little faces and tell them everything is gonna be okay?! Because you know it's not! Dean I'm broken! And I can't even imagine what the two of them must feel!
"We were supposed to keep them safe, Dean! And I can't protect them from anything." The last sentiment had a million tiny fissures in it, indicating Alice was barely holding on.
Moving closer to her, Dean smoothed back her hair and gently kissed her on the forehead. He folded his arms around her. "I'll take care of it, Allie," he said simply.
Pulling away, Alice looked at him with disbelief. "How? And you what about you, Dean? Sam told me about your Dad. You lost your father, I lost my-I lost Jan. Our children have lost everything and we're just supposed to tell them everything is okay?! We are in way over our heads. We always have been!"
"Hey, hey." Trying to get her attention, Dean gripped either side of her face. "Listen to me and believe me when I say everything will be okay. I'll make sure of it."
She wanted to ask him how, but she was too exhausted to fight anymore. "Fine," she said, looking away from his intense gaze. "Fine."
With a sigh, Alice stitched herself together enough, so she wouldn't look like a mess in front of her children.
There was an abrupt silence as the door swung open. Cara and Noah stiffened and watched quietly as their parents slowly entered the room, with careful expressions on their faces.
Alice frowned slightly, when she saw the sight in front of her. "You should be in bed, Cara." Descending into nurse mode, Alice helped Cara climb back into bed, careful of her broken ribs.
From the side, Dean watched in amazement as Alice pulled the sheets up over Cara, and readjusted Noah, kissing him on the forehead. Just a minute ago, he had watched as she struggled to even enter the room, believing she didn't know what to say to her children, that she was in over her head. She didn't have faith in herself like Dean had in her. But, it was so natural, so instinctive, for her to walk into the room and just know what to do to comfort her children, even if she didn't realize it.
Done fussing over them, Alice seemed to become self aware, and slowly moved to stand next to Dean, who was staring at his children with a mixture of sadness and anger.
The two kids stared back, blankly.
"I think there are some things we need to talk about," Alice finally said. She pulled back the two chairs that were situated between the beds, and placed them so they faced Cara and Noah. She and Dean slowly sat themselves down.
"What? Demons?" Noah asked.
"For starters," Dean said, slowly.
"Okay," Cara said. "Go ahead."
Dean and Alice looked back and forth between each other. This was a conversation Dean didn't want to have with Alice, let alone his kids. And Alice? Anything she had heard about hunting ended up in pain, misery, and death.
And now?
They were gonna tell their kids about it.
With a sigh, Dean felt himself reach across and grab Alice's hand. He needed a grounding feeling right then.
"Monsters are real."
It wasn't completely out of the blue after everything that had happened, but it still managed to floor both kids.
"They're real. Ghosts, werewolves, vampires-anything you could think of."
"And demons."
"Yes, Noah: and demons."
"And...I hunt them. I have, my whole life."
Cara's head swivelled to her mother. "Did you know?"
Alice nodded. "I've known for a couple years now, baby."
Remembering the words Phenex used to project out of Cara, the young girl felt something resonate inside of her. "That's why you've been lying to us our entire lives? All the times you left with no explanation, and all those times you came back with bruises and-" The words petered out as everything began to fall into place.
"Hunting monsters is kind of the family business. Sam and I have been hunting together since he left Stanford. And before that, we both hunted with our father until-"
"Jan was a hunter, too," Alice spoke up, noticing how Dean couldn't seem to get the words out, when talking about John. She knew John was a complicated man who had complicated relationships. And he left a complicated mess after his death.
"Was," Noah spat. "Because I killed her."
"What? Noah, no-"
"Because I was gonna stab you instead, but she jumped in the way." Looking down at his hands, they began to shake when Noah began to imagine the blood that had spattered over them, after the knife had penetrated Jan's chest cavity.
Springing up from the chair, Alice immediately collected Noah in her arms, one hand cradling his head into her shoulder. "No, baby, no. It's not your fault. It's not your fault. It's never been your fault and it never will be. No one blames you. Not even your Aunt Jan would."
From where he remained, nestled in his mother's arms, Noah caught Cara's guilty gaze. She was the one that had let them into the house, but he was the one that knew something was gonna happen.
Was it possible it wasn't either of their faults?
"Can demons read minds?" Cara asked, softly, directing her attention to her father.
"I think so."
"Cause it could read my mind. But I could read it's too. It worked for Azazel? The demon that killed Grandma Mary and Jess. Right? He was the one that sent them."
Dean clenched his teeth, wishing so bad he had been able to put a bullet into one of those bastard's yellow eyes. Instead, the demon was gone, the Colt was gone, and behind he left a great, smoking crater in the middle of the Winchester-Mercer family.
"Yes, Cara."
"But why? Why? Why our family? Why can't they just leave us alone?" Seeing the beginnings of a breakdown, Dean moved towards his daughter, and hugged her tightly.
She couldn't understand why bad things happened to their family over and over again. And Dean, who desperately wanted to take his kid's pain away, could not explain why either. Because he didn't understand himself.
There was no explanation for the evil that decided to curse his family.
The next morning, Cara was released from the hospital, after it was determined the blow to her head was at best, a mild concussion. As for her ribs, there wasn't much to do other than rest up. The hardest part had been explaining how her ribs had been broken-her father tackling her into a work bench-as she hadn't remembered exactly.
But after her release, Alice had taken Cara home from the hospital, so she could rest in her own bed. And not wanting either of them left alone, Dean had begged Sam to go back to their house with them as protection.
That left Dean alone at the hospital with Noah.
And as for the young boy, he was still a bit weak from the blood transfusion. The main concern of everyone was his leg. With a broken knee, he was going to be in a cast for a few months. He didn't need any surgery, which was at best, a small silver lining. But he would need intensive physical therapy for a long long time, even after he got the cast off.
"What if I can't play football again?" Noah had asked, when it was just him and his father. Dean had been in the process of teaching him Texas Hold 'Em, anything to distract Noah from the physical trauma and mental scarring.
With a sigh, Dean set down the cards. There were so many tiny loose ends he and Alice were going to have to pick up, things they couldn't even think of. Being possessed by a demon as a child were going to impact both kids in different ways, probably for the rest of their lives, even in ways that didn't seem related.
"You heard the doctor. You're young and you'll have a full recovery. By the time you're in high school, you could be the star quarterback." It was gonna be hard, but Dean didn't think Noah needed a reminder of that right then.
"I'm a running back," Noah said quietly, sadly.
Realizing Dean had no idea what the hell that meant, he felt even worse. He didn't know anything about the things his kids liked.
A sudden idea sparked in his mind. Determinedly shoving the cards to the side, Dean pooled the loose change into a pile. The coins had been makeshift poker chips, but now, they were going to serve a different purpose.
"So Noah, I realize I don't know all that much about football. But maybe like I was teaching you how to play poker, you can teach me football. Let's pretend these coins are the players. Show me what each positions does and how it all works."
Noah's eyes lit up. "Really? You want me to show you?" He asked excitedly, hopefully.
"Sure do, buddy. Teach me everything."
"Okay!" Noah immediately began to arrange the coins in formation. "Let's start with offense. Since this is a quarter, he can the the quarterback...and the dime can be the running back. Pennies can be the offensive linemen…"
With a flurry of motion, Noah delved into the explanation of one of America's greatest sports, and for a little while, forgetting Hell had been in his head.
"The body's starting to get pretty ripe, Sam," Bobby said, over the phone.
Sam cringed at Bobby referring to John as 'the body', but that's what he was. "I know, Bobby. And I really appreciate everything you're doing. There's just...so much shit going on right now. And I don't know what to do. You know?"
Bobby sighed. "I know boy, it's been a terrible past couple days."
"And I tried to talk to Dean about driving up there for a day to give Dad a proper hunter's funeral, but he doesn't wanna leave Alice and the kids undefended."
"Right," Bobby said.
"And Alice can't come up with us because she has to make funeral arrangements for her aunt. And those kids are in no shape to be travelling."
"I really don't want to rush you boys, and I know you need to be here for this. But Sam, you know your father would want the burial done ASAP."
"I know. Bobby?"
"Yeah boy?"
Sam chewed on his lip, contemplating whether or not to share the question that had recently bubbled to the forefront of his mind, when he thought about his father. "It's kinda weird...Dean wakes up from a coma perfectly fine. And not even an hour later, Dad drops dead out of the blue. The Colt's gone...there's no trace of the demon.
"Did...my dad make a deal to save Dean?"
The line was silent for a moment. "I think you know the answer to that."
Tears began to prick Sam's eyes. "I should go, Bobby. I'll call you tomorrow."
Without even saying goodbye, Sam hung up, sobs hitting before he even had a chance to put the phone down.
The concussion made it hard to read. But Cara tried to power past the blurry print, by blinking every few seconds. There were several open books in front of her, and she held a blue pen in one hand, circling things, and occasionally jotting things down.
Cara's bedroom door flung open suddenly, Alice entering the room, a glass of water in one hand and an orange pill bottle in the other. "Cara, you can have some more pain medication now. It's been-"
Alice stopped talking. In front of her, Cara was painfully hunched over her desk, with several open books. A glittery pink notebook was open in front of her, with handwriting so illegible it didn't even look like English.
Smiling fondly at how much Cara loved to read, Alice placed the water and medication down. "I know you like to read, but you need to let your eyes rest, and also lay down so your ribs don't hurt." Leaning over Cara's shoulder, Alice plucked up one of the books, that looked like a leather journal, with handwriting in it.
"What's this?" Frowning, Alice began flipping through the strange book. There were pages and pictures about all sorts of legends and monsters. Closing the book, she saw the initials J.W. on the cover.
"Cara, where did you get this?"
"Mom-"
"And what else are you reading here?" Alice grabbed a familiar book, her own personal copy of Paradise Lost. She then pulled up a bible. The last book she pulled up alarmed her as much as the journal, that was apparently John Winchester's.
The last book was a small and red, with gold letters reading Daemonologie. A book that, no doubt, gave all sorts of information on different kinds of demons.
"Cara Clementine, where did you get this?" Alice asked, lowly.
It was evident her injuries weren't about to get her out of the trouble she was in. "I found it."
"Where? And where did you get this?" Alice held up the demon book in one hand and the journal in the other. "Because I sure as hell know you didn't find these in this house."
"I found them in Uncle Sam's bag."
"You found them in his bag?"
"Fine. I took them out of his bag."
"First of all, Cara, you are not allowed to go through your uncle's stuff. Second of all, you should not be reading these."
"I'm just trying to make sense of what happened to me."
"Third of all," Alice said, choosing to ignore her. "You should be in bed. Resting."
After she was directed into bed, Alice watched as Cara swallowed the pills, and carefully set the glass on the nightstand. Sighing, Alice took a seat on the edge of the bed. "You should sleep."
Glancing past her mother, Cara looked at the stack of books on her desk. "I'm confused."
Alice frowned. "About what?" Was she still disoriented from getting hit on the head?
"About what a demon is. Some of the books say they're fallen angels, but others say they're souls of bad people who died and went to-"
"Cara. You don't need to be reading that. I mean it. But...if you need to read something, you can read this." Getting up from the bed, Alice went to Cara's bookshelf and pulled out the first picture book her hand reached for.
"Here."
As her glasses had been removed, Cara squinted at the cover. "Where the Wild Things Are? So you do want me to read about monsters?"
Realizing her faux paus, Alice snatched the book away. "You need to sleep. Your eyes need to rest. And promise me you won't try to read about monsters or demons anymore."
"I promise, Mom," Cara said, grudgingly.
"Good." She placed a kiss on her forehead. "Sleep. When you wake up, Dad will be here and I'll be at the hospital with your brother."
"Okay," Cara said.
As Alice left the room, she took the pill bottle, the notebook Cara had been writing in, and the stack of books she'd been reading.
Once the door closed, Alice located Sam, sitting in the living room. On the coffee table Noah had once shoved Cara into, she slammed the stack of books down in front of him.
Sam looked up quickly at the sound. Alice noticed his eyes were red, like he had been crying. She contemplated asking him what was wrong, but where would she even begin? Instead, they both chose to ignore that, and she waited, as Sam frowned at the stack of books. Noticing John's journal on top, Sam reached for it, and then saw his copy of Daemonologie underneath that. Sam frowned, waiting for an explanation.
"I found those in Cara's room. She was researching demons. Apparently she went through your stuff."
A bit surprised to hear that, Sam nodded. "She was...researching demons?"
"Evidently." Alice handed Sam the illegible scribbles in the journal. "I don't know if her mind is still muddled from getting hit in the head, but I can't even read what she's writing."
Sam took the paper and squinted at it. Something hit him after frowning at the scribbles for a few minutes. Setting the notebook on the table, he began to flip through Daemonologie before holding up a page for Alice to see.
Leaning forward, her face fell as she read the heading. "Demon sigils?"
Sam nodded running a finger down the page. "Yeah. And it looks like the ones she were drawing was to ward them off. She was trying to figure out sigils used for protection."
Taking the book from Sam, Alice flopped down onto the couch, hand cradling her head. "Cara thinks she can find the answers to all of her problems in the pages of some book."
"Well, maybe she can find some of them," Sam suggested.
"She gonna find the answers for why her parents are so terrible in any of these books?" Alice asked, half joking, but a little bit serious.
"You're not a terrible mother, Alice. And Dean's not a terrible father. But no one has perfect parents. Parents are just people that make mistakes and can't fix every problem. But I think they always do the best they could."
She mulled over the words for a moment. "No. Not mine. They didn't do the best they could. They tossed me out like I was a stray."
"We're not our parents, Alice," Sam said, the words resonating, as he realized John's body was rotting away on some sofa in South Dakota.
"I know that…"
"Then that's all there is to it," Sam offered.
"Right, of course. You're right." Nodding along, Alice felt like a puppet as she agreed. It seemed like for days, she had been taking and offering empty condolences and assurances. She didn't believe it when Dean said everything would be okay, and she sure as hell knew it her kids didn't believe it when she said it do them.
The entire family was spinning out into the dark void of space, but they all acted like their feet were firmly on the ground.
A Few Days Later
"You need to go," Alice said into the dark.
"What?"
Sighing, Alice sat up and reached over, flipping on the lamp, resting on the nightstand. The room was filled with light.
Dean, who had been laying on his back, scooted up against the headboard, turning towards Alice.
"What did you say?" He asked again.
"You need to leave."
Dean frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Sighing, Alice reached forward and took one of his hands. "You need to go and bury your father."
Retracting his hand, Dean stared at her like she was speaking a different language. "No. You need me here."
Covering her mouth with both hands, Alice closed her eyes for a moment. She wanted to shut off the light and lay back down, and pretend like she hadn't said anything. But her mind wouldn't stop whirring. She couldn't stop thinking of how they were frozen in time in this house, in this room, in this night, and how both of them needed to do what they needed to do, so they could move on.
"Look, Dean...I'm not asking you to leave and never come back. Both kids are finally out of the hospital, in their own beds. And maybe..things can start to settle down soon.
"I love you, but you need to go and say goodbye to your father. Both you and Sam. Because right now? You're stuck."
Alice watched him carefully, but there appeared to be now response. Dean stared at the end of the bed, expressionless, and motionless. It was as if he had turned into a statue.
"Dean did you hear me? I'm not kicking you out. I just need you to give yourself some closure. And when you're done and ready, you can come back. I want to to come back. And we can heal together as a family."
"There's no healing from this," Dean intoned.
"I know so much has happened to you-"
"You don't know everything Alice," Dean snapped, pushing away her attempt to comfort him, physically and mentally.
"Then tell me," she said persistently.
"You don't wanna hear this."
"Yes I do."
No response.
"Dean: yes I do." Alice grabbed him by the chin and turned so he looked at her. "I do," she said, more softly.
Observing her, Dean placed a hand over hers and watched at how her eyes flickered across his face for some sign of weakness, a chink in his armor.
"Please talk to me," she said softly.
Dean glanced over his shoulder, looking away from her. She was beginning to find the chinks in his armor.
"Dean, please."
He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling her soft hand run up and down his arm. "Please." Her voice was barely audible.
"We were in a car crash."
Alice glanced up. "What? When?"
Dean sighed, jaw clenching. He began to run a finger up and down Alice's palm. "After we found the demon. The bastard possessed my dad, taunted us. It ripped up my chest pretty bad. I guess I'd lost a lot a blood so I was in and out. But Sam managed to shoot the thing in the leg and get us into the Impala. But…"
Sensing the hitch in his voice, Alice was about to ask, but remained silent, afraid she would spook him out of telling her the painful recollection.
"Before we could get to the hospital, a semi truck rammed into the Impala. She got crushed like a tin can. Baby's at Bobby's right now."
Alice chewed on her lip. "I was wondering why you weren't driving it."
"Well that's why. But the car crash? It banged us up real bad. According to Sam, I was already pretty injured. Alice, you don't know how bad it was."
"How bad?" Alice found herself whispering.
"Bad. I was in a coma. Apparently I had swelling on the brain."
"Oh my God."
"The doctors didn't think I was gonna wake up." Dean refrained from mentioning how he had apparently been a spirit that communicated with Sam through a ouija board. Not only did he not remember it, he knew Alice needed as few reminders of the supernatural as possible.
"Then how are-"
"Because my dad made a deal." It was something that had been whirring around in Dean's head for awhile, but he hadn't wanted to accept it. After everything that had happened, Dean didn't want to think about that, but all answers pointed to the same heart wrenching conclusion.
"A deal?"
"To save me."
"Like...a deal with the devil? Like Faust?"
Dean frowned, ignoring the second half. "It seems so. I wake up out of nowhere, completely fine. And then, not even an hour later, my dad-who was perfectly healthy-drops dead with no explanation. The only weapon we had to kill the demon is gone, and so is the demon.
"And then, not even five minutes after my dad's pronounced dead, I got the call from you."
Feeling her skin crawl at house close the events had taken place, Alice began to realize she and her children were being terrorized by evil as Dean woke up from a coma and subsequently lost his father. She understood why Sam was so worried about him now. Dean had been given no reprieve over the past couple days.
"My God, Dean. I'm so sorry." She didn't know what else to say, so she just let the two of them bask in the silence and the loss; it was something they could both understand.
Dean shut his eyes, remembering John's last words, whispered into his ear, as the last few grains of sand ran out of his father's figurative hourglass. And some of the things John had told him were things Dean wished John had taken to his grave. Because now? Dean was going to have to carry those sentiments like a weight. And the things John had told him were things he could never repeat to someone else.
"I know I need to say goodbye to him but…"
"I know, Dean," Alice murmured. She pressed her lips to his hand.
"I can't leave you and the kids here, unprotected."
Alice didn't want him to leave, either. She was terrified something else would happen again. And she knew if she told him to stay, Dean would never get the chance to see his father one last time. It sickened her she had that kind of power over him in that moment, and if she was selfish enough, she could make him stay forever.
But for his sake, he needed to go.
At least for a little while.
"You have to. We'll be okay for a little while." They had to be okay. Alice had to make sure of that.
"We both have people we need to say goodbye to, things to take care of."
Dean slowly nodded, not believing himself that he would willingly leave Alice and the kids in a time like this.
"Then I guess I'll go tomorrow morning."
"I guess so," Alice said. She scooted down, closer to Dean. "But for now? Stay the night."
The next morning was tough.
Sam and Dean left early, giving candid goodbyes to the children, who were confused and blindsided by their departure, even if it was only for a short while. No one had mentioned John had died until when the adults had no other choice. And as vaguely as possible, they mentioned he had gotten hurt by a monster, and had ultimately died. The explanation was poor, but Cara and Noah were still tailspinning, so they didn't question it. And although Cara and Noah had only met the gruff man once, it was another family member they would strangely mourn and miss.
When the boys were finally gone, Alice made arrangements for Jan. She would be sent to be cremated. And then later, when Alice had more of an idea of what kind her aunt would want, Alice would have a ceremony for Jan.
The rest of the day was spent with Alice pacing around the first floor, redrawing the salt lines every now and again. She compulsively checked to make sure she had silver and iron knives, and a loaded gun on her person at all times. Loaded guns had always spooked her. But now that she knew the damage monsters could inflict, she wouldn't hesitate to use it if she had to. If it meant protecting her children.
Cara and Noah remained upstairs. Still on bedrest, Noah spent most of his time in his room. Ever since his father and uncle had left, the sounds of crunching metal and breaking glass played in his ears like annoying tinnitus. He was willing to do anything to distract from the sounds, including doing some annoying math homework he'd been putting off since they went to Jan's.
Keeping him company, Cara sat at his desk, head still swimming, as she tried to remember some of the sigils she had managed to write down before her mom had stolen the paper. She was just glad her non-dominant hand had been broken.
With her back to him, Noah couldn't ignore the sounds in his head anymore.
"Was someone in a car crash?"
"A car crash?" Spinning around, Cara turned to her brother.
"Yeah. Ever since...that night, I've been hearing these sounds in my head."
"What sounds?"
"Like glass breaking. The sound a car makes when it runs into something."
The first time Noah tried to tell Cara something was wrong, she hadn't believed him.
But this time, she listened.
She frowned. "I don't know. Do you still hear it?"
"Yeah."
"Like right now?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know," she said, a little more unsure. "I don't know."
"Neither do I."
"We'll figure it out." Cara was shaky in her assurance, but she figured it was better than nothing.
"I don't know what's happening to me, Cara. But it's scaring me."
"We'll figure it out," Cara repeated, turning back to the paper.
"I hope so," Noah muttered, closing his eyes, letting the sounds of crashing take over his senses.
San Casciano dei Bagni, Italy
A salty breeze blew across the small cafe on the Italian seaside. A woman, with pinned back curly hair, gingerly sipped her cappuccino. "Ah," she breathed in, leaning back in the wicker chair. A pair of large sunglasses rested on her face.
"Ciao," said a voice.
Opening her eyes, the woman sat up, pulling down the sunglasses. "Si?" Standing over her was a young man, obviously foreign. He had a blonde mustache, and a lithe, athletic body.
The man frowned. "Do you not recognize me?" The accent was Eastern European.
The woman raised an eyebrow. "Should I?"
"I would hope so. We possessed that woman together. All those centuries ago? Just over that hill?"
Lightbulb going off, the middle aged woman looked surprised. "Nero?"
"No, Sonja. It's me: Talla."
Looking a bit less than enthused, the woman, possessed by Sonja, slumped back down. "Oh."
"Oh? I haven't seen you for so long and all you can say is 'oh'?"
"Like I said-" Sonja took a sip of her drink. "-I was hoping for Nero. Well...actually, I was hoping for no one. But if I did have to hope for someone, it would be Nero. Why are you a man?"
"Why are you an old woman?" Talla shot back. Wrenching out the other seat, she sat down.
Less than pleased, Sonja shoved the sunglasses back on her head. "Because I am."
"What are you doing here?" Talla finally asked.
Sonja shrugged, looking out at the sea. "You know how long it's been since I've been to the Mediterranean? I didn't think I'd ever see it again."
There was a scoff. "I always knew you were one for sentiment. Coming back to where you were born and where Saint Maniglia became a saint."
"I'm still mad we never got a fruit basket from the Catholic Church for that," Sonja responded out of the corner of her mouth. "Or at least a card."
Talla leaned forward. "But why are you here? I've been looking for you."
"Decided to go on holiday."
"Like I'm sure you needed a holiday from Hell."
"Not just from Hell. But maybe if you wanted a break from it too, you should get better at climbing out of the Pit. And at least you could've brought Nero with you. He's fun."
"If Nero wants out, he can claw his own way out."
Sonja shrugged. "Fair enough."
Talla watched Sonja for several moments. She was relaxed and poised. Two things Sonja never was. She had always been a bit chaotic and out of control, but it was a guise to make up for how pathetically harmless she was.
"You know...you've always reminded me of those delusional little Arkansas farm girls that wanted to go to Hollywood to become big stars."
"And are you here to give me my big break?" Sonja asked in a sarcastic, starry voice.
"No, dear. Haven't you heard the news?"
"What news?"
Talla tried to keep the smile from entering her face. "John Winchester? He's dead. Made a deal with Azazel."
"That yellow eyed creeper? Why?" Sonja's lip twitched slightly at the mention of both John and Azazel. John had been the one to torture Sonja and her family, but Azazel had been the reason why he'd done it.
"To save his son."
"Hmm."
"But that's not even the best part."
"I'm sure you're glad John Winchester's dead. Because I know you were so afraid of him bla bla bla-"
"Janet Sutton is dead."
"Umm...what?"
Talla smirked. She knew the pitiful vendetta Sonja had against Jan. All because the woman exorcised her once. Talla was glad she got to be the one to rub it in Sonja's stupid face.
"Murmur and Phenex killed her."
"I hate those two! They're such children!"
"Oh irony," Talla laughed.
"Why is that ironic?"
"Well, they were actually possessing Cara and Noah Mercer when they did."
"What? How did those two manage to get anywhere near that family?! I tried so many times and never even set a foot in that godforsaken house!" Sonja had always overestimated what a threat she really was.
Talla cracked a small grin. It was so easy to make Sonja angry. And so fun. It was the least she deserved for leaving them in Hell all those times.
"It was because Meg sent them. On Azazel's orders, of course."
"That bitch. I'm gonna kill her."
"Too bad. She's downstairs."
"Fuck," Sonja hissed. She had spent all of her time fixating on Janet Sutton, and now the deceitful hag was dead.
"Sonja."
"What?"
"It's time for you to come home."
She scoffed. "You mean Hell? No thanks. I think I'll stay up here and drink sixty year old aged wine on the beach instead."
"Your family misses you," Talla said.
"Still not worth it."
"You want to know why I came here?" Talla asked.
"To rub it in my face that Janet's dead?"
Talla smirked slightly. "I guess two reasons then. The first though? I'm here to recruit you."
"For what?" Sonja asked, sounding like a disappointed child.
"Come with me and work for Azazel."
Mouth dropping open, Sonja removed the sunglasses. "Scusami?"
"Azazel has what he wants for now. But, he needs boots on the ground to be his eyes and ears."
"No."
"All you have to do is spy on the Winchesters and report back to me. You don't even have to see him."
"Still no."
"Why not?"
Sonja stood up, face reddening. "I don't know if you remember, but we got tortured by John Winchester because he thought we knew something about Azazel killing his stupid wife. So no. I'm not gonna work for the psycho who's the reason I got tortured."
"Can't you just let it go?" Talla rolled her eyes.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm petty."
"Oh I know."
"You don't have to take everything as a personal assault, you know."
"It WAS! Am I the only one who can't forgive and forget?!" Sonja threw her arms out to her sides. Perhaps it didn't make sense that she was angrier with Janet Sutton than John Winchester, but in her twisted, petty mind, it made sense. Yes, John had tortured them, but that was it. But Jan had toyed with her like she was a doll, and had made her feel small and stupid. And now, she was dead and gone.
Starting to get mad, Talla gripped the edge of the table to keep herself composed. "No one's forgiving or forgetting, you imbecile. This is how we get revenge on his family."
"I'm not talking about the Winchesters-I could give a fuck about them at this point-I'm talking about Azazel!"
"I would be careful what you say about him," Talla said darkly.
"Why? And why do you care about some has-been?"
"Because he's raising an army. And when he does, you don't want to be on the wrong side," Talla cautioned.
"There's no sides. It's every man for himself. Like it's always been."
Talla shook her head. "I wouldn't be too sure about that."
"I'm not working for that bastard. And I'm sure as hell not working with Murmur, Phenex, or Meg. Or any of Azazel's asshats for that matter."
"Listen, Sonja, I'm losing patience," Talla said. "Your entire plan to kill Janet Sutton backfired. And she's not in Hell so you can't torture her there. Get over it and work for something that actually matters. Because all of us are on board with Azazel. You're the only one that's not."
Not liking the sound of the ultimatum, Sonja sneered. "Then I'm the only one that's not."
Flipping the small table suddenly, Talla grabbed Sonja by the hair, bringing her close. "Maybe the others found you endearing, but I always thought you were a pain in the ass."
"Then leave me alone!" Sonja hissed break. She tried to push Talla away, but found she couldn't.
Noticing Sonja's putrid attempts, Talla laughed. "You really were always the weakest link, you know. The only thing you were good at was running away. And evidently, you weren't even very talented at that.
"You're coming back to Hell with me, Sonja. And this time? You're not leaving."
Before Sonja could attempt to pull away, Talla grabbed the other demon by the throat. With a tremendous amount of force, Talla pushed off the ground, forcing the both of them into the sea.
There was a loud splash, and the waves rustled for awhile.
And after a few minutes, there was nothing but still water.
Days Earlier
She had seen something strange out the window.
As soon as Cara stepped over the threshold outside, she was surrounded by black smoke. Encased in the feeling of pain and anger and desperation, she began to scream at the top of her lungs. But the smoke cushioned any sound, redirecting the screams back into her own ears as they were pushed back down by the smoke forcing it's way in. Coughing against it did no use, and once all the smoke was sucked down, Cara, now Phenex, suddenly straightened up and turned gracefully, like a ballerina.
Still outside, Phenex looked into the house, up the stairs, at the small boy half hidden at the top. "Noah," she whispered. "Noah, help!"
Jolting, Noah came more into view.
Phenex glanced over her shoulder at the cloud of smoke hanging nearby. Murmur would get a vessel soon enough.
"Noah. Something's wrong," Phenex croaked, trying to make her voice sound weak. "Help."
Upon seeing the little boy had not moved, Phenex fell to her knees and let out a soft cry. Good thing her acting was up to par as it was the only way to get him out of the house. She wouldn't be able to step inside, as the entire thing was a gigantic demon-trap.
Seeing Cara in pain triggered something in Noah, and he rushed to the bottom of the stairs, but stopped at the edge of the doorway.
"Oh God what's happening?" Phenex cried. She began to claw at Cara's throat.
Needing that final push, Noah stepped out of the safety of the house, towards his sister. "Cara!"
And just as he knelt over her, Phenex was up, eyes blinking black. "Not Cara."
Seeing the dark eyes, Noah was immediately catapulted to the dream he had when Dad was dying of heart failure. He remembered being at the bottom of the grave where those sick Hanratty brothers were leaning over.
They'd had black eyes.
Yelling, Noah reached behind him and grabbed a potted plant that was nearby. He swung it as hard as he could at Phenex's head. Instead of crumpling, the pot merely cracked in half as dirt rained down on both of them.
Shoving Noah to the ground with such force, he skidded across the lawn, Phenex waved over her shoulder. "Go ahead, Murmur. He's all yours."
The last thing Noah saw was a sea of black over his eyes.
Alice awoke to the sound of screaming.
Bolting out of bed, she saw it was barely light outside as she followed the sounds to the backyard. Forcing the back door open, Alice tripped out, gasping at what she saw.
Cara had a gash on her head and she and Noah were screaming on the ground, clutching at their faces, skin burning. Jan stood over them with a bottle in one hand and a crucifix in the other.
"JANET STOP!" Alice yelled.
"They're demons, Alice!"
"What?"
"They're-" As Jan was about to speak, Noah was off the ground. From the doorway, Alice watched as he grabbed Jan by the arm, and flung her in an arc over his head, like she was a rag doll.
Alice let out a scream and Noah turned to look at her.
His eyes were black.
"Alice call Dean!" Jan yelled, out of breath. Moving quickly for her old age, she pressed the crucifix against Noah standing nearby. He yelled in pain and fell to the ground again.
Frantically, Alice grabbed her cell phone and punched in his number. She held it to ear ear, chewing on her lip, watching as Jan sprayed holy water on them, in between bursts of Latin.
"Hello?" Dean finally said into the phone.
"Dean, where are you?" Alice yelled. She hung onto the back door like her life depended on it.
"I'm at a hospital in-" And as he said that, Noah had appeared from out of the garage, a baseball bat held high above his head. While Jan was focusing on keeping Cara at bay, he snuck up behind her, bringing the bat down over her skull. There was a crack and Jan felt to the ground, limp.
Both children-or whatever the hell they were-swiveled to Alice, eyes still pitch.
"Save us, Mommy," Cara crooned in a strange voice.
"CARA! NOAH! NO!" Alice screamed at the children in front of her, that were so obviously not the kids she knew and loved.
"Alice? What's going on? Alice!" Dean was yelling into the phone, but the object was wrenched out of her hand and crushed by Cara, as if it were a piece of paper.
Backing away, Alice looked at the blood smeared on her hands. Her head was spinning and she didn't know what it was from.
Stumbling backwards, Alice just made it to the backdoor, gripping it tightly, as Cara and Noah came up behind her and wrenched her away from the door, easily.
They dragged her towards the garage, each holding an arm.
"Please let them go! Take me take me! They're just kids! I'm the one who you should-"
She was shoved into the garage, the door shutting behind her. She could see Jan slumped over in one corner of the room.
"Please let them go," Alice cried, begging one last time as their tiny figures cast large shadows over her.
"It's us Mommy. We're your babies," Noah crooned.
Both children blinked once again, their eyes turning back.
Alice screamed so loud, it was amazing the ground didn't shake.
This chapter took a lot to write, but it was very rewarding, and quite fulfilling. I hope it was worth the wait :). The next one or two chapters should be wrapping up Season 1. And then we're onto Season 2!
Please review! I've had this chapter planned for a really long time and I'd love to know what you guys think!