Dean coughed, mud sputtering away from his mouth. His body felt heavy, foggy, as it shook involuntarily from the cold. Wetness was soaking into his clothes. He tried to think back to what happened to leave him this way, but his mind wouldn't work properly, only allowing him to think about the ache that seared his muscles and the chill that burned his skin.
He pushed himself up on shaking arms, forcing his eyes open to look around. Everything was blurry, and the haze from the drizzling rain didn't help either. He sat back on his knees, looking around at the old wooden buildings that lined the muddy street. He had no idea where he was; he had hoped seeing his surroundings would jog his memory, but it did nothing. Where was he? Where were his parents? Why couldn't he remember getting here? The last thing he remembered was showing up at the Roadhouse and preparing for Christmas with everyone, then everything went blank.
Dean forced himself to stand, his legs unsteady, but his head cleared the more he moved. If he could just find a sign or something to tell him where he was, then he could figure out what to do from there-
Child-like laughter sounded from one of the buildings behind him, Dean quickly turning around to look. The inside was dark, and he didn't see any movement.
"Hello?" He called, slowly approaching the building. He was also made painfully aware at that moment that he had no weapons to defend himself with. "Ava? Jo, is that you? I'm not in the mood for that creepy baby ghost laughing crap, okay? So either you come out now or I'm leaving you in there."
There was no answer, no shadows moving just out of sight or heads peeking around a corner. A feeling of dread started to build up in Dean's stomach, his jaw clenching as he stepped closer to the building. He hesitated for a moment before pushing the old door open, watching it creak inward to reveal the dusty and empty room.
"That doesn't make me feel much better…" He muttered to himself as he walked inside. His eyes scanned the room, frowning at the antique furniture that lay broken in the corner of the room. Could this place, this whole town, have been abandoned since this type of furniture was common? Where in America would there even be a place so untouched for so long? Surely someone would have come in to clear out everything by now?
A giggle sounded behind him, Dean spinning around. Nothing there-
Something ripped across his back, from his right shoulder to his left hip. Dean let out a scream as he dropped to his knees, a hand going to his shoulder as he looked behind him. A small girl with a dirty face and ripped clothes stood behind him, her fingers long and pointed; she giggled as she watched him, a hiss slipping from her throat between breaths.
An acheri.
Her face suddenly scrunched up, twisting into a demonic glare with black eyes and pointed teeth. The hissing turned into a deep growl as she lifted her claws and started to approach him. Dean let out a curse as he started to scramble to his feet, ignoring the pain burning across his back.
"Dean…!" A familiar voice yelled, "Get down!"
Dean didn't wait to find out why, he dropped flat to the floor just as he heard something whizzing over his head. The acheri screeched before disappearing with a burst of freezing air.
"Are you okay?" That voice asked, panic hiding behind her concern. Dean lifted his head to see Jo rushing to him, her face flushed as she went to her knees next to him. "You got got pretty bad on your back…"
"Jo…?" Dean blinked, eyes zeroing in on the cut across her cheek. "What happened to your face? Are the others here too? Why are you alone?"
"Take a breath, buddy," She rolled her eyes teasingly, a smirk masking her fear. "I just woke up in one of the buildings nearby; I managed to find a crowbar before that creepy kid showed up and tried to attack me. I guess she's a ghost or something because she vanished after I swung at her. I heard you scream and booked it over."
Dean nodded along, sitting up and flinching only slightly as the edge of the cut tugged. "It's an acheri, a type of demon that doesn't need a host body. It acts like a ghost but worse."
Jo paled, swallowing thickly as her façade started cracking. "A demon…? That's… okay."
He tried to offer her a smile, nudging her with his shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll protect you. Keep that crowbar close, I'll find something too then we'll be unbeatable."
She looked into his eyes, searching him for something. She must have found it because soon Jo let out a sigh and nodded, her shoulders drooping and her face calmer. "Okay. Can you stand up? We should hurry before the demon comes back."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good. It doesn't even hurt that bad." He pushed himself to stand, letting out a quiet grunt as his shirt and jacket shifted over the wound. Dean stood tall as he looked around, deciding on what their next move would be as Jo went to get her crowbar from where she threw it. They were in some kind of old, abandoned ghost town with at least one acheri on the loose. Towns were abandoned for reasons, and most of those reasons resulted in a lot of dead people, which then resulted in a lot of ghosts. He would be willing to bet that the acheri wouldn't be the only entity wandering around…
Dean went over to a rusted bed piled in a connected room, reaching down and easily pulling one of the iron bars free. He weighed it in his hands before turning back to Jo. "Alright, I got something for now. Let's go look around, see what else we can dig up. Maybe find out where we are."
She nodded, her eyes darting around nervously. Dean's eyes softened as he watched her; Jo was tough, she was able to hold her own in a fight, but she had never gone up against a ghost before – much less a demon. He couldn't blame her for being scared.
"Jo," He called gently, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. "We're going to get out of here, okay? We just have to work together, and everything will be okay, and we'll be back home before you know it."
She looked up at him and nodded, shoving her fear down. "Okay. Let's go kick some demon ass."
Dean smirked, ruffling her hair. "Atta girl." He stood up straight, taking one last look around the house before leading the way outside.
It was still gloomy, the sky a shade of depression gray as it drizzled freezing rain to the ground. If he had to guess, it wouldn't be long before it started snowing. A shudder wracked his body as the wind blew against the mud-soaked spots on his clothes. He'd have to get a fire going to keep them warm before the temperatures dropped for the night, neither one of them were dressed properly for a night in the snow.
A quick glance at the buildings across the street alerted him to a general goods store, and hopefully a bag of salt that no one ever bought… He nudged her shoulder as he started walking. "Over here."
They were halfway across the street when another voice called out, both of them freezing as they turned to see John and Ellen jogging to them.
"Mom…!" Jo cried, running to her mother's awaiting arms as John went to Dean.
"Dean, are you okay? Are you hurt?" John almost seemed frantic, his hands going to Dean's shoulders as he looked him over.
"No, I'm fine," Dean shook his head, hiding his wince as his free hand came up to hold his dad's arm. "Dad, what the hell is going on? Do you know what's happening?"
They locked eyes for a moment, Ellen and Jo walking over to them as well before John sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Not a damn clue. I woke up in a house down the street, no idea how I got there. I was looking around when I ran into Ellen, she was just as lost as I was about all this. We decided to follow the road when we saw you two."
"So none of us know how we got here. Great." Dean's shoulders dropped in annoyed disappointment before he perked back to attention. "There's an acheri hanging around too, it attacked me after I came to. Jo scared it off, but I don't think it'll be gone for long."
Worry quickly flashed through their eyes, Ellen placing a hand on Jo's head and checking her over once again for any injuries. Jo shook her off and gave Dean a pointed look. "I'm fine, but Dean got scratched along his back. It looks bad."
John sent him an accusing look as he forcibly turned him around, gently moving the torn fabric of his shirt and jacket to look at the scratches underneath. He prodded at the wound, probably feeling as Dean's muscles tensed in pain.
"I'll be fine," Dean reinstated, stepping away from his dad. "It's not like we have the medkit with us, and I don't really trust any bandages that we would find out here. I'll manage until we get back to civilization."
His dad let out a sigh, reluctantly nodding. "Let's get a move on then. An acheri is not something to take lightly; an exorcism won't work since they don't have a host body, so we can only defend against it. Or…" John got a look in his eye, looking off to one of the buildings as he thought.
"Or…?" Jo prompted.
"I haven't encountered many acheries, but a powerful witch was controlling the last one."
Dean felt a chill go down his spine. He hated witches. "So you're saying that there might be someone else here besides the creepy, murderous little girl? Wonderful."
"Not only that," Ellen said as she looked at them, "But we were all at the Roadhouse before we got here. So was Mary and Ava. If we're all here, then wouldn't they be too?"
A muscle in John's jaw twitched but he showed no other reaction to the idea. If Dean hadn't spent so much time with him, he would have thought that John didn't care. But Dean had spent seven months by his dad's side, seven months of getting to know him, getting to know his tells; he knew that John was worried. That one little muscle twitch was as loud as if John had screamed his worry for Mary.
"It's too dangerous to split up with a demon and possible witch around…" He finally said, his fists clenching at his sides. "At least not without proper resources. Let's look around and get as much as we can to set up a safe place from the acheri, then I'll go scout around and look for them."
"I'll come with you-"
"No." John shook his head, cutting Dean off as he started to walk to the general store. "You're injured. You stay with Ellen and Jo."
"I can still help…!"
"You can help them, Dean."
"Dad!"
John turned on his heel, his eyes hard as he stared Dean down. Dean had to take a step back under that intimidating gaze, not used to it being directed at him, but he saw something in his dad's eyes that made him pause. There was fear in his eyes, for just a split second, before he hid it. It caught Dean off guard, fear was not something that was used to describe John Winchester. But neither was caring, and yet his dad was one of the most caring people Dean knew – in his own Winchester way.
And wasn't that a humbling realization? John Winchester was scared to lose him.
With a sigh of defeat and a slight but warm smile, Dean relented with a nod. "Alright. I'll stay with Ellen and Jo."
He could practically feel the surprise coming off of the others, obviously none of them expecting him to give in so easily. But as much as Dean was worried about his mother, one of the many things she had taught him was when to pick his battles. He didn't follow that advice as much these days, being so wrapped up in his dad's planning and attack strategies, but he it was easy enough to switch back to.
John stared at him for a moment more, probably deciding if he really believed Dean or not, before nodding back and leading the way into the general store.
The store was covered in several thick layers of dust that would definitely irritate Dean's eyes later, the shelves mostly bare except for a few items that were collecting an impressive amount of cobwebs. Dean scanned the items for anything useful while his dad and Ellen went digging through another pile of abandoned furniture. He glanced over his shoulder when he didn't see Jo go with her mom, spotting her instead just inside the store facing the outside.
She gripped her crowbar tight in both hands, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Her wild and confident attitude made it easy to forget how young she was, but watching her keep guard for a demon was a painful reminder. Jo was a child, only fourteen… She shouldn't be worrying about acheri coming to get her, hell if it was up to Ellen, Jo wouldn't even worry about ghosts for a long time still. But here she was, dragged into whatever mess this was, worrying about her life. She was probably even worrying about her mom's life too. Dean remembered his first big hunt with his mom and the persistent thought that if he messed up, she would be killed. And he was older than her when he was having those thoughts, he didn't even want to think of what her young mind was coming up with.
As much as he wanted to offer her comfort though, he knew that she wouldn't appreciate the babying. Honestly, he was lucky that he got away with the little comfort he offered her after the acheri attack. He was half expecting her to hit him when he said he'd protect her – maybe she would have if he wasn't hurt. But now, in front of their parents, she definitely would take offense to his offer of comfort.
With one last look to her, Dean turned back to the shelves and shuffled through the contents. There was a bag on the bottom shelf that was brown with age, the words long gone along with any identifying marks. But the shape seemed promising. Dean pulled it off the shelf and opened it up, smiling in triumph at the granulated salt inside. He pulled out the four other bags on the shelf, quickly checking to make sure they were all salt before standing up.
"I got five bags of salt," He announced. "Pretty good to get a safe room going."
The others all looked over at him and the bags on the floor, his dad nodding in approval. "Good. You and Jo go get something set up while Ellen and I keep looking."
The urge to argue reared back up, but Dean bit his tongue and nodded. "I'll leave my iron bar with you in case the acheri or anything else shows up. You might have better luck looking in some of the houses too; I got mine from an old bed in the one across the street. There's still more there too."
"You should keep your-"
"Dad, there's five bags of salt here and I have a demon child's scratch across my back, I'm not making more than one trip. Bringing the bar with me means less room to carry the salt, so it makes sense if I leave it with you. Besides, you two haven't found anything iron to defend yourselves with yet, have you? You want us to leave you here with no weapons while a demon is on the loose?"
"Kid's got a point," Ellen chuckled, walking over to him and taking the offered iron bar. She gave him a smile, her eyes flittering to his shoulder where the cut started. "You'll be okay?"
"I'll manage." He shrugged with his good shoulder. "Not my first hunting injury that couldn't be taken care of right away."
"As soon as we're out of here, we'll get you patched up." Her eyes went past him then, looking to her daughter. "Jo, you listen to everything Dean tells you, you hear? No arguing, he's going to know what's best."
Jo looked over her shoulder, seeming like she wanted to hug Ellen but instead just nodded. "I know, I know, mama. I'll be good."
Ellen, much less reserved in her affection as her daughter, went over to her and wrapped one arm over her shoulder, pulling Jo in for a hug. Jo immediately wrapped both her arms around Ellen, burying her face into her stomach. Ellen started whispering to her, her other hand petting Jo's hair gently. Dean looked away to give them their privacy.
His focus went to the five bags of salt that he had to carry in one trip. Which would be a pain… What he wouldn't give for a bag. Or- Dean shuffled off his jacket, trying to cause as little pain as possible. Once it was off, he laid it on the floor and started piling the salt into the center, then folding up the edges to form a makeshift sack. Perfect.
"Dean," His dad called, walking up behind him as Dean looked up. "It's freezing out there, and your shirt won't be enough to protect you."
Dean let out a sigh; his dad's worrying was starting to feel a lot like nagging-
Something soft and warm and heavy fell over his back, his eyes widening as he looked at the leather jacket sitting over his shoulders. It was large – almost too big – on him, but he felt oddly safe in the size. He looked up at his dad, eyebrows raised in question.
"You need it more than I do." Was the simple answer he received. Dean put his arms inside, shuffling them so the sleeves wouldn't cover his hands.
"Thanks," He smiled up at his dad before picking up his jacket to carry the salt. He looked over at Jo and Ellen, who had stepped away from each other. "You ready?"
Jo looked back at him and nodded, hefting the crowbar onto her shoulder. "Just waiting on you."
Dean hid a smile as he left with her at his side. He scanned across all the buildings, trying to decide where to start setting up. He thought about setting up in the building he first went in, but then he thought about the hole in the wall and how cold it was during the daytime. It would probably be below freezing once the sun set. If he could find a house that had a working chimney so they wouldn't turn to icicles during the night while fighting off a demon, that would be great.
He and Jo walked down the street, looking for any chimneys that connected to not-broken buildings. Jo stayed silent, crowbar held tightly in her hands and eyes constantly surveying the area for a threat. He glanced at her white knuckles and decided to try to get her mind off the demon.
"So, do you remember how we got here? Or is everything a blur to your memory too?"
Jo almost jumped at his voice, but covered it up by pretending to cough. "No. No, I don't remember it. The last thing I remember… was being on the phone with Uncle Bobby, he was wanting to know what food he should bring to help out for tomorrow."
"Hey," Dean's eyes brightened as he started to smile, "If you were on the phone with Bobby when we got put here, that means he probably knows something's wrong. If anyone can find out what's going on and get us out of here, it's him."
"Unless he got grabbed too."
Dean raised an eyebrow, looking down at her. "What makes you say that? So far the only ones here are the ones from the Roadhouse."
She glanced up at him before looking away, swallowing thickly. "Dean… What if it isn't a witch that brought us here? What if it was Yellow-Eyes? It's been seven months since we heard anything from him, he's had to come up with some plan to get Sam by now. What if all of this is him trying to lure Sam? What if we're the bait?"
Dean stopped in his tracks, eyes wide as he stared ahead. He hadn't thought about that being an option… but it could very well be. It wouldn't have been the first time the Demon targeted them to get at Sam, and an acheri would be so easy for Yellow-Eyes to conjure without the need for a witch. He was probably powerful enough to bring them all here as well, considering the fact that he could easily come and go through the Roadhouse's wardings without a care. Seven months was a long time to plan, a long time to iron out any wrinkles or anticipate any counterattacks.
"Oh crap…" He muttered, the hair on the back of his neck standing up. "Okay. Okay, just stay close to me. We'll get someplace set up then we'll go let Dad know. Since we've only seen the acheri, we might be able to get ahead on this."
He started walking faster, a buzzing in his head that directed him to a nearby house. He noted that there was no chimney on the building, that it didn't even look like a house, but something in his mind kept nagging at him to go inside. If he listened close enough, he could swear that he heard a voice instructing him to enter, but that wasn't important. All that mattered was that he got inside that building.
He didn't check to see if Jo followed him, he went up the steps and pushed the old door inward to see the unnatural darkness inside. He stepped over the threshold just as he thought of how bad an idea this was, the door suddenly slamming shut behind Jo. The two of them jumped, panic shining bright in Jo's eyes as she tried to force the door open again. Dean was faintly aware of a headache starting behind his eyes as he lifted his foot to kick the door down, but a voice stopped him.
"Stop."
Dean's body went stiff, unable to move even as his mind screamed at him to.
"Sleep."
His eyes were suddenly heavy, his body weak and wobbling. He barely registered falling to his knees and seeing Jo collapse against the ground. The last thing he heard was light footsteps walking towards him before he lost the fight with consciousness and everything faded to black.
XxX
John would never admit his fears aloud. He knew better than to show weakness in front of people, especially ones who were already afraid and looked to him for guidance. He would keep his hunter persona, the hardened side of him he created that had somehow taken over his normal personality, at the front of this hunt.
But that didn't mean he wasn't terrified inside.
They had no weapons, no supplies, a demon they couldn't exorcise, Dean was severely hurt, and they had a child who had never been on a hunt before. Their odds couldn't be any worse just at that, but then adding in all the unknown variables such as if a witch was controlling the acheri or if other monsters were lurking in the town, or why this specific town. Was Mary there? Or Ava? There were so many things he didn't know. Too many things. And with Dean already hurt… John needed to find a way out of this town, and fast.
But first he had to figure out why they were in the town. There had to be a reason, there was always a reason. And if they tried to make a run for it, worse things could happen.
"You're worrying," Ellen commented as she finished taking apart the iron frame of a rusted bed that had been tossed inside a barn.
"I'm fine." He replied, focusing back on dismantling a tractor blade that could be used as a weapon.
"Don't try lying to me, John. I know a worried hunter when I see one. Bill used to have the same tells as you; unfocused eyes while your hands work unconsciously, that tick in your jaw, even the way you keep looking towards the door like Dean is going to come strolling in here. You're worried about him."
John sent her a warning glare before putting a bit more force than necessary into unscrewing the last bolt, the blade clattering free from the rest of the tractor.
Ellen continued though, not bothered by his annoyance. In a way, John knew that it was her way of getting through her worry for Jo. Didn't mean he had to like it though. "You are his dad, after all, so it's normal for you to worry about him. But Dean is strong, he knows how to handle himself. He's been hurt on hunts before and completed them, and some of those injuries were much worse than what the acheri gave him."
"He shouldn't be though." John muttered, his fist clenching tightly around the screwdriver.
"What was that?"
"He shouldn't be fighting with injuries…!" He tossed the screwdriver across the barn, glaring as it clattered to the floor. "The whole reason to all of this was so that our kids wouldn't have to worry about monsters! We would kill Yellow-Eyes and then we'd be a normal family again, that was the plan. But then everything went to hell…! It wasn't supposed to be like this! Dean isn't supposed to mask his pain so he can keep fighting and Sam isn't supposed to be galivanting across the country because demons and angels want him dead!" John let out a frustrated sigh, putting the blade on the ground next to him so he could run his hands down his face. "Mary and I talked about the life we wanted our children to have when we started planning. She hated the way that she was raised and swore that our children would grow up in one place; I hated the way my father abandoned me and swore that I would always be there for my boys. And somewhere along the way, we got lost and everything got twisted and we knew we broke our promises and we were so angry with ourselves and each other that we just… gave up. And our boys paid the price. They weren't supposed to know about this life, at the least they weren't supposed to be used to it. And now Dean is getting mauled by a demon without even batting an eye while Sam is on the run with a monster."
The silence stretched out between them for an almost uncomfortable amount of time, Ellen most likely unused to hearing so many words come out of John. To be honest, even John was surprised with himself.
He blamed it on Mary. Since she started traveling with him, they talked quite a lot. More than he would outside of reading off lore. They reminisced about how they met, their first date, how scared he was of her father when they met, he smiled with her, laughed with her, and at times it wasn't hard for him to imagine that they were still in Lawrance, that he didn't know demons and the supernatural existed. It was those feelings that brought on these thoughts, these doubts of his job as a parent. He knew that he wouldn't win any awards, but… he had hoped he was at least better than what he'd been.
"John-"
Whatever Ellen had been about to say was cut off as the barn door slammed shut. They both jumped to their feet, makeshift weapons in hand. There was no telltale giggling of the acheri, only their forcibly quiet breaths in the otherwise silent barn.
John glanced over at Ellen, a question in his eyes. She looked back at him, her eyes widening a second later.
"John, watch out!"
He spun around with the tractor blade, ready to send the demon packing. But instead of a little girl, there was a rusty chain rearing up like a snake ready to strike. John's eyes widened as well, dropping the blade as his hands went forward to catch the chain just as it lunged at him.
"John!" Ellen yelled, he could hear her rushing over to him before a loud curse escaped her, followed by a thud. Something must have attacked her as well.
John inwardly cursed as the other end of the chain started wrapping around his legs. It took all of his strength not to fall to the ground and lose the little leverage he had.
This was on him… He heard about the acheri and set his full focus on the demon and the witch, not accounting for any other spirits that could be lurking. A poltergeist as strong as this one would be dangerous even with a salt circle, meaning Dean and Jo would be in danger if he didn't get to warn them. They didn't have anything to banish a poltergeist either… They were screwed no matter which way John looked at it.
The chain had wrapped itself up to his chest, squeezing just enough that he couldn't inhale. His arms faltered from both the lack of oxygen and the struggle against a supernatural power. He wouldn't last for much longer.
Just as darkness started to fade the edges of his vision, he heard footsteps getting closer. Dean. He had to warn Dean.
He lifted his head, about to call out for his son, but stopped short.
The person standing above him wasn't his twenty-year-old, nearly six-foot son, but instead a five-something boy who was barely over the age of sixteen. He seemed solid enough so not a spirit, and he looked clean and well cared for so not an acheri.
Suddenly, the boy smiled at him, raising his hand up. The iron bar that Dean had given him rose into the air, hovering just above John's head. His eyes widened, looking back to the boy.
Something clicked then in John's mind. They weren't brought to this abandoned town because of some vengeful witch. It was the Demon finally making a move. And he was putting his psychic army to use.
John just had enough time to narrow his eyes into a glare at the boy before the bar came crashing down on the top of his head and everything went black.
XxX
Whistling wind screamed from somewhere nearby, dragging Mary from her sleep. She groaned, her mind too tired from their last hunt to peacefully wake up. There was a bone deep ache in her from whatever their last hunt was. Something that she would normally push through, but for some reason was harder to ignore.
What had been their last hunt?
A warning bell went off in her head at that. Why couldn't she remember the last hunt she went on to make her feel so crappy? Did she hit her head? But…
No.
She hadn't been on a hunt.
Mary was at the Roadhouse with Dean and John, they were going to celebrate Christmas together. So why was she hurting?
The wind screamed its protest again, a chill blowing over her body.
This wasn't right… If she was at the Roadhouse, then she shouldn't be feeling the cold or hearing the wind. Something was wrong.
Forcing her eyes to open was a struggle, her body didn't want to cooperate with her. Her eyelids alone felt too heavy to open, much less the rest of her body. But as she fought for control of her body, feeling started to return as well. Her limbs were painfully numb, her body not even feeling like hers as she tried to twitch a finger.
But finally, finally, her eyes cracked open. It took a moment to adjust to the light streaming in from a broken wall, once she did though, everything else came easier now that she could see and focus on her body movements. Her hands moved to help push her up, trembling only slightly. She looked around, frowning at the old and worn-down house she found herself in. One of the walls was missing and it looked like another was about to crumble as well, the single window was busted, and there were holes in the wooden floors.
Mary stood up on shaky legs, moving to look out the window. She was met with further confusion as she saw something that looked like an abandoned ghost town out of a John Wayne movie. Nothing was making any sense. Why couldn't she remember anything? Where was Dean and John? Had something happened to them? Her last clear memory was them together with Jo and Ellen, so they should all be together now as well.
Why weren't they together?
Placing a hand on the wall, Mary used it to help keep her upright as she went to the door. Despite hanging off its hinges, it surprisingly didn't fall off as she pushed it open and stepped outside onto the porch. The wind blew and whipped her hair in her face, a chill going down her spine that was both from the cold and the sense of dread. There was an evil feeling to the town that made the hair on her arms stand up. She really wouldn't be surprised if a ghost – or even demon – jumped out at her. But not only was there an evil to this town, there was also something eerily familiar about it that she couldn't put her finger on.
She stepped into the muddy street, looking around cautiously for any sign of life. The only movement was from the wind blowing dead leaves through the cold air. No birds were singing, no bushes rustling from animals, no bugs were chirping, no cars driving nearby… It all built upon her growing sense of dread that something terrible was in the works for Mary and her family.
She patted her pockets down, looking for her hidden weapons and finding none. Whatever had brought her here must have taken them… She drew in a deep breath before starting to walk down the street towards what she assumed was the center of the town.
The wind pushed against her back, seeping through her feeble sweater as cold mud splashed against her pants. Mary inwardly cursed as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself. So much for taking the holiday off to relax… This is what she got for letting her guard down though, for getting comfortable. If she were twenty-five years younger, she would have screamed in frustration. Instead, she just marched through the cold with a string of muttered curses.
At the end of the street was a large building. The once white walls were now a mix of moldy green and black dirt, but it was still obvious that the building had been important in its prime. Perhaps the courthouse or Town Hall? There had to be some kind of information about where she was inside.
She started for the front door when something moved from the corner of her eye. She froze, her hand instantly going by muscle memory for her gun and clenching around nothing. Her eyes scanned the area for any threat, waiting for whatever it was that caught her eye before.
Mary must have stood there for five minutes before slowly relaxing. Her eyes then focused on a large bell that was in front of the building, familiarity peaking in her as she made her way over.
The wood holding the bell was caving inward, years of weather damage and rot taking its toll. But the bell itself was what she zeroed in on, the oak tree embellishing on its side bringing back memories of her parents' endless hunting lessons that she hated. The dread threatened to choke her as she realized why everything was strangely familiar.
She was in Cold Oak.
Her father had taken her here on her thirteenth birthday, intending to show her the different types of ghosts and spirits that called this cursed place home. Not even an hour into their lesson, her father had been attacked by a poltergeist, stabbed through his side by a pitchfork left behind by a farmer. It was Mary's first experience with a gory wound up close, the moment that really set her into the belief that she would never put her kids through the same thing.
She had to get out of there. She needed to get out. The only thing that kept her from running to the road out was the thought that Dean and John were somewhere in the town as well. And wouldn't that just be lovely? Having her son and husband in the town where Mary swore never to involve hunting with her future family. She could hear her thirteen-year-old self yelling about broken promises.
"Over here…!" A voice called from the distance, Mary's head turning in the direction it came from. "Make sure the big one is tied up tight, Master doesn't want him to get away."
"I'd like to see him try." A second voice, closer now, scoffed. "Even if he managed to get past us, we've got demons all over the place to stop him."
That set off some fairly obvious alarms to Mary as she quickly ducked behind the bell just as two young boys came walking towards the large building. Behind them were- She had to suppress a gasp. The bodies of John, Dean, Ellen, and Jo floated behind the boys. None of them seemed to be moving, they weren't even awake as far as she could tell. But they were alive, the first boy's concern was proof enough of that.
She watched as they went inside the building, the door left open behind them. Slowly, she crept closer, hiding behind bushes and trees as she made her way to peek through the windows.
She was halfway there when she heard a branch snap behind her. With wide eyes, she turned around to see who it was, only for a searing pain to lurch through her body. All of her nerves were on fire, her body seizing up as she dropped to her knees. Darkness crept into the corners of her vision as what she could only guess was electricity coursed through her body. She managed to look up just before she lost consciousness, seeing a boy who couldn't have been older than Sam, with shaggy black hair staring back down at her with tears in his eyes.
She swore she heard him apologize just before her world went black.
XxX
For the second time that day, Dean woke up with no idea how he got there. He had a killer headache that throbbed just behind his eyes and his body felt unnaturally stiff. With a groan, he forced his eyes open, blinking them sluggishly as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. It took far too long for him to realize that he was staring at his own lap, his wrists and ankles tied to a chair with some kind of heavy-duty rope.
"Finally awake, Dean?" An unfamiliar voice asked from behind him.
"Dean?" A more familiar voice called from his left, followed by several other people letting out sighs and praises of relief.
Dean lifted his head, looking around the somewhat dark room to see his dad and Ellen tied to chairs on his left, and Jo and his mom to his right. "What's going on…? Where are we?"
"Cold Oak, South Dakota," The voice behind him said, light footsteps walking around their small group. A young boy, maybe sixteen, with dirty blond hair stepped in front of them with a relaxed smile. Two other boys joined him, one with a more wicked smirk and the other who looked like he didn't want to be there. "The most haunted town in America. Master thought it was a fitting place for us to begin our 'live trials'."
"Great," Dean rolled his eyes. "A cult filled with puberty and acne. Just what we needed for the holidays."
He heard Jo snort a laugh, could see the smile that his dad fought to keep off his face, and the subtle shake of Ellen's head. His mom stayed silent though, her eyes locked on the dark haired boy who wanted to be anywhere else than with them. For his part, he also seemed to be avoiding meeting anyone's gazes and hanging behind the two other boys. If Dean had to guess, he was probably peer-pressured into joining their little cult and was truly innocent in all of this. When he got free, Dean would go easy on the kid.
The first boy, who was obviously the leader, chuckled as well. "That was funny. I can see why Sam cares for you so much, you're his light."
That snapped all the humor out of the situation for Dean, sitting up straighter in his chair. "What do you know about my brother?"
"Dean…" His dad started, drawing all the attention to himself. "These are the kids that Yellow-Eyes took. The ones that Sam saw while we were at Jim's."
Realization dawned on Dean like a bucket of ice dumped on his head. Flashes of their time at Pastor Jim's shot through his head; Sam's fear of being touched or near his family, watching as Sam fell deeper and deeper into the illusion of the other kids' minds, fighting to stay close to Sam as he did his best to distance himself. Sam's fear came from these kids hurting others (Max's family definitely deserved it but still), from the Demon teaching them how to hurt others. They were dangerous. Not to mention that Yellow-Eyes was probably keeping a close watch on them too… This whole situation seemed impossible to get out of.
But they had survived impossible situations before. This time would be no different.
"Glad to see that Sam took our advice about enjoying his freedom," The leader boy said, watching Dean closely. "Though I wish he wasn't so good at hide-and-seek, I'd love to get to know him."
"What do you mean by that?" John demanded, leaning forward in his chair. "What advice did you give him?"
"Oh, he didn't tell you?" The second boy, with short brown hair that took way too much pleasure in all of this, smirked. "When you were all hiding away at that pastor's place, we brought Sam down to Hell with us for a little meeting. We let him know that he was wasting his time hiding, the wards you had up wouldn't do anything to stop Azazel and his children anyway. We told him to go have fun with what little time he had before he was taken away."
"You…" Mary started, her voice shaking, "You took Sam to Hell…?"
The first boy looked to her, his eyes softening just a hair as he shrugged. "We brought him back. It wasn't even his body, just his consciousness. We wanted to see what was so great about Master's favorite…" He chuckled as he turned and started pacing. "I have to give it to Sam, he's powerful for someone untrained. I can see now why he was chosen to be our leader. He'll make a very fearsome King."
"Sam would never!" Jo yelled, anger burning in her eyes as she stared the boys down. "Sam is a good person, he would never use his abilities for evil like you!"
"Jo," Ellen whispered pointedly, "Enough."
"No! Sam would never hurt anyone unless he had to!"
The first two boys looked at her, something unreadable in their eyes. Dean could guess what was going through their heads. He could also guess that Ellen and Jo never got the tragic backstories behind the boys that Sam connected with…
A loud gasp escaped Jo as a knife floated in the air, hovering right in front of her eye.
"Leave her alone!" Ellen shouted desperately, struggling to lean forward in her binds. "She's just a kid, she doesn't know what she's saying!"
The first boy ignored her though, stepping closer to Jo and leaning in until his face was just behind the knife. "Do you want to know how I first used my ability? My Master showed up to save me from my father. He was going to kill me, beat me to death in his basement. But then I learned that I could stop my pain, that I could be free from his abuse. Are you saying that I wasn't justified in my actions? What about Ansem?" He pointed at the second boy behind him. "Ansem was abandoned by his mother and left to rot in a drug hole. Do you have any idea how some people act when they're out of their minds on drugs? It's not pretty. Were his actions not justified to get revenge on everyone who ever laid a hand on him?" Max, as Dean now knew, stood up straight and held his hand out, the knife floating through the air to land softly against his palm. "Of course, growing up with such a loving and doting mother, I don't expect you, any of you, to understand. How could you? You've never been hurt by the people that were meant to protect you."
The silence that followed was thick with tension. Jo's head was ducked in what Dean could guess was shame. Max and Ansem's kills were justified, but – Dean's eyes wandered past them to the third boy – he was willing to bet that Scott didn't have that same protection from ridicule.
"What about you, big guy?" Dean called to him, eyes narrowed and a smirk on his face. "These two have some pretty good reasons to be with Yellow-Eyes, but what about you? You've been hiding behind your hair and trying not to be noticed the whole time. What? Do you not have a good excuse? Wait… Let me guess, you're the kid who fried your neighbor's cat. What did Mr. Whiskers ever do to you?"
Scott's shoulders came up higher, his arms wrapping tightly around himself as he looked at the floor. If Dean didn't know any better, he would say that it looked like tears started to well up in his eyes.
"And that's why Scott is excelling faster than the rest of our brothers and sisters," Max said, seemingly unbothered by the idea of a cat killer. "His natural talent for destruction is the whole reason he's here with us in this final exam while the rest of us are still being trained in Hell."
That piqued an interest in their little group. "Final exam?" John asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"You can think of us as High School seniors if that helps your understanding. We're the three that have the best control of our abilities, and once we complete our final exam – which is you – then we will be able to start our official training as Generals of Hell's army."
The hair on the back of Dean's neck stood up, a shiver going down his spine. This kid, this human kid, was actually proud of the idea of joining demons… He was giving up his humanity for a monster.
"And let me guess," Ellen started, "By us as your final exam, that means you're going to kill us?"
"Exactly." Ansem grinned, "Can't have you interfering with Azazel's plans."
John leaned back in his chair. "After all this time, Yellow-Eyes can't even end us himself? He sends a bunch of kids to do his dirty work? That's just rude."
"That's what you get for thinking you're so great. In reality, you're nothing but a bug to Azazel. You mean nothing."
"Kids these days, huh, John?" Ellen chuckled. "Such disrespect…"
"Back in my day, children, demon or not, always respected their elders. Nowadays they just lack all their manners."
Dean watched as his dad and Ellen went back and forth, watched as Max and Ansem's faces grew redder by the second. Max at least tried to hide his anger, his jaw clenching and unclenching; Ansem openly glared as his eyes burned with rage. Dean was almost surprised that he didn't just kill them on the spot.
But then Max's shoulders relaxed, a smile crossing his face. Dean's body tensed as he prepared himself for whatever the boy planned on doing. He could practically feel the others doing the same.
"If you think we're so bad…Then maybe we should get someone with some manners to join us." His eyes looked behind their chairs, a smirk on his face as he nodded to someone.
Panic rose inside of Dean, struggling in his chair to look behind him. He could hear two sets of footsteps and the sound of someone yelling behind a gag. They couldn't have gotten Sam… He was protected, they couldn't have-
Ava was shoved into their view by a demon, stumbling onto the floor in front of them, her hands taped behind her back. Flashbacks to their first meeting flew through Dean's head as stared with wide eyes as Ava shouted through the tape covering her mouth, tears in her fearful eyes as she looked at them.
"Ava!" Jo shouted, struggling in her binds with the rest of them.
"You leave her out of this!" Ellen almost growled, coming pretty close to breaking a hand free.
"Stop," Ansem said, his voice filling the room like an echo. Dean's body went unnaturally still. He screamed in his mind to move, to twitch, to do something, but no matter what, he stayed in place. From the corner of his eyes, he could see that no one else was moving either. Sam had told them that Ansem could control people and recounted how he felt when he was trapped inside the minds of the people Ansem killed, but actually feeling it was so much different than Dean expected it to be. Sam had described it as the people not knowing what they were doing, just feeling compelled to do whatever Ansem instructed of them. But Dean was aware. He wasn't just compelled, he was forced. He tried to fight against it, tried to regain his freedom, but his body wouldn't listen to him. All he could do was sit and watch as Max walked to Ava.
"All these restraints on you…" Max sighed, kneeling behind her, and pulling a small knife out of his jacket pocket to cut the tape off of her hands. "The Winchesters really got their hooks deep in you, huh? For you to be so loyal to them that you would fight back against demons." He seemed almost gentle as he reached up to pull the tape off of her mouth.
"Let them go," Ava demanded, moving away from Max as soon as she could. He stood up, watching as she backed away from him. "The Winchesters and Harvells are good people. They don't deserve whatever you're planning."
"And yet they keep you in their servitude."
"I'm not in anyone's service…!" Her eyes narrowed as she stood up, holding her shoulders back. A part of Dean felt proud of her. He knew how scared she must have been, but she still was able to keep her head high as she defended them. "Dean and his parents saved me, and Ellen and Jo took me into their home when I had nowhere else to go! I'm with them because I want to be!"
"But will they want you once they find out what else you can do?"
Ava's eyebrow twitched, wary confusion crossing her face. "What are you talking about?"
"You have more than just two abilities, Ava." Max smiled, but it seemed off somehow… "I can sense it in you. And I think you can sense it too."
The fear that Ava had been trying to hide started to make itself known on her face, her breathing picking up as she shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"C'mon, Ava," Ansem sneered, "We're all friends here, no need to hide who you really are."
"No…"
The two boys started to close in on her from both sides, backing her further into the wall. Dean wanted to shout at them, scream at them to leave her alone. She was just a kid, she didn't deserve to be bullied by them. But his body was still frozen in place.
Ava let out a small scream as Ansem grabbed her shoulders, tears in her eyes as he moved to stand behind her. He held her in place as Max turned back to them, his hand lifting as the knife he used to cut her free lifted into the air.
"Can you feel it? Like a fire building in your stomach?" Max called, a wild look in his eyes as the knife danced through the air. "Let it out. Let that hellfire out and maybe you can save them…!"
"No!"
"I'm going to throw this knife at one of your friends, and only you can save them!"
"Don't, please!"
"Do it, Ava!" Ansem yelled, Max's knife stopping in front of Jo. "Call your demon!"
"Jo, no, please! Please! Leave her alone!"
The knife started to fly through the air, directly at Jo's head. Ava screamed, Dean felt like he was screaming with her. He wanted to move, to grab Jo out of the way, to close his eyes, to do anything but sit there and watch as Jo was killed. Tears welled up in his eyes. He was going to lose her, Jo was going to die because of these twisted kids.
There was a blast that followed Ava's scream, black smoke wisping around her before fizzling out. Her body slumped over, her eyes closing as she fell to the ground. Two of the boys turned to her, Scott jogging over to place a finger against her pulse. Max, however, was staring at Jo with a scowl.
Ansem's hold on them released, a collective gasp going through the group at their freedom.
"Jo!" Ellen called, struggling in her seat. "Jo, are you alright?"
Cautiously, Dean turned his head to where Jo was, preparing himself for the worst. But he let out a relieved sigh as he saw that she was alive, the knife hovered just in front of her face.
"I… I'm okay." Jo's voice was shaky, sweat was pouring down her face too. But she was alive… That's all that mattered to Dean.
Max's eyes went to Dean next, or more accurately, above Dean. His scowl deepened. Dean frowned as he slowly looked up, seeing the first knife that Max had – the larger knife – hovering just above Dean's head.
Dean sucked in a sharp breath, jumping in his seat and drawing the attention of the others.
"No!" His mom called desperately, "Please, no!"
But Max didn't answer her, didn't even look at them. He put all of his focus on the knife, sweat starting to form on his forehead. Dean got the feeling that the knife wasn't doing what Max wanted it to do…
"Wait…" Ansem started, his head lifting as he looked around the room with growing panic in his eyes. "Max, someone's comi-"
The front door was blown open, a bright, golden light flooding the room. Dean's eyes closed tightly against the onslaught, wincing as the light still shined behind his lids. There was a warmth that followed the light. It didn't burn like fire, it was a soft kind of warm, a comforting kind.
The demon that had brought Ava in screamed from behind him, sounding as if it was in worse pain than being splashed with holy water. There were a few more screams from different rooms as well, all harmonizing for a moment before abruptly cutting off, followed by the sound of something like dust in the wind.
Shortly after, the light faded away. Dean dared to open his eyes, blinking them open slowly to adjust back to the dim lighting of the room. He looked to the door, a gasp escaping him at the two figures that stood there.
They were backlit by the outside light, shadows covering their faces. But the one in front, he was taller than Dean remembered, reaching just above the second man's shoulders. His hair was longer too, almost in his eyes, but well-kept. Even in the shadows Dean could tell that some of the baby fat in his face had slimmed off.
Their eyes met, a faint smile offered before he looked up at the knife above Dean. Anger flashed through his hazel eyes as they narrowed, the teen holding his hand out in front of him as he looked to Max.
"What do you think you're trying to do to my brother, Max?"
A/N: Wooo! Sam is back! And he's brought someone along with him too!
Lololol but omg, wow. The amount of sleepless nights I got this month because this story did not want to stay on track... Friggin Max Miller kept rewriting my plot and I hate him so much now. The twists and turns and extensions this story took me on while writing was something else.
This story is completed by the way! I will post a chapter a day until Christmas! Consider this my Christmas present to you all! And if you don't celebrate Christmas, then it's my Happy Monday gift to you! I really hope you all enjoy the final story to this series!