Chapter 3: In the Beginning
Sam paused in the doorway of the motel room, his breathing shallow as he tried to keep all noise to the bare minimum. Dean was fast asleep, and that's how he wanted him to stay. Closing the door softly, he stepped to the edge of the pavement and waited. Within a few moments, the car pulled up. Ruby sat in the driver's seat, looking a little tense but glad to see him. He slid into the passenger's side, and she pulled away. The car had only been stationary for a matter of moments, and that was how she liked it. A quick getaway, without giving other people the chance to set eyes on her.
"You ready?"
He nodded, feeling sparks of anxiety in his veins but not willing to admit it out loud.
"Definitely."
Flashes of blood red and the sound of ringing chains followed Dean into the waking world as he shook off the remnants of his dream, fear still clinging to his ribs even as he reassured himself that he was actually in bed in the motel. He took a few deep breaths, grinding his palms against his eyes.
"Hello, Dean. What were you dreaming about?"
He jolted back, registering the fact that Castiel was sitting on the end of his bed. The angel looked exactly the same as he had done the last time he'd seen him, right down to his perfectly knotted tie.
"What, do you get your freak on by watching other people sleep? What do you want?"
"Listen to me. You have to stop it."
"Stop what?"
Castiel reached out and placed two fingers in the centre of Dean's forehead.
And he woke up on a bench, with a police officer shaking his shoulder.
"Move it buddy – you can't sleep here."
He frowned, totally disoriented.
"Okay... sleep... where?"
"Anywhere but here."
The officer walked back to his car, and Dean fished in his pocket for his phone. It was fully charged, but he had no signal.
"Perfect. That's just great, huh."
He dragged himself off the bench and into the nearest diner - a little joint called Jay Bird's - and flopped down at the counter next to a young man in a leather jacket. He had dark, slicked hair and brilliantly green eyes.
"Hey, where the hell am I?"
The man frowned, stating the obvious. "Jay Bird's Diner."
"Yeah, thanks. I mean, uh... city and state."
He raised an eyebrow. "Lawrence, Kansas."
"Lawrence." He muttered under his breath, mind whirling.
"Hey, you okay buddy?"
"Yeah, tough night."
The young man managed a smile, as if this was an answer he could at least understand.
"Hey, uh, coffee here, Reg."
Reg nodded. "Okay, coming right up."
Dean tried his phone again, with little success, and sighed.
"Can you tell me where I can get reception on this thing?"
His new friend snorted. "The USS Enterprise?"
Reg returned with the coffee, and Dean looked at him properly for the first time. He was dressed like a hippie - and a very committed one too, not just a half-assed costume job for a themed party. It was half impressive, half concerning.
"Thanks... nice threads. You know Sonny and Cher broke up, right?"
The young man turned to look at him, shocked. "Sonny and Cher broke up?"
Something wasn't adding up here. He took another look around the diner, and saw more seventies fashion disasters: bell bottom jeans and hideously patterned shirts. Using a finger, he dragged the newspaper the other man had been reading a little closer so he could check it out. The big headline was 'Nixon accepts resignation', but there was something that caught his attention even more. The date in tiny print just above it. Monday, April 30, 1973.
1973.
Oh.
Oh no.
The diner doors swung open and a man walked in, eyes lighting up as he saw who was sat inside.
"Hey, Winchester."
Both Dean and the young man next to him turned in response, and the new man walked straight past Dean to shake the hand of the other man.
"Son of a bitch. How you doing, Corporal?"
He grinned. "Hey, Mr. D."
"I heard you were back."
"Yeah, a little while now."
"Good to have you home, John, damn good."
From the moment he'd heard the name Winchester, Dean's heart had started pounding at his ribs like a caged bird. And hearing the other man use that name had been the final piece of the puzzle. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. And yet, here he was. He felt his lips form the singular word without producing any sound.
"Dad?"
The two friends finished their conversation, grinning.
"Well, say hello to your old man for me."
"You got it, Mr. D." John's eyes shifted to Dean, and his smile dropped a little. "I'm sorry, do we know each other?"
Dean could feel himself shaking. "I guess not."
"Just… thought you looked familiar. Must be confusing you with someone else. Ah well. Take it easy, pal."
"Yeah."
John got up, paid the bill (tipping generously) and left.
Dean managed to wait approximately thirty seconds before following him.
He tailed him from a slight distance, losing the trail when a hand reached out from an alleyway and grabbed him by the sleeve. He felt himself get pulled into the side street and raised his hands to defend himself - relaxing a little at the sight of Castiel and Jophiel. But not much.
"What is this?"
Castiel gestured about him. "What does it look like?"
"Is it real?"
"Very."
"Okay, so what? Angels got their hands on some DeLoreans? How did I get here?"
Jophiel rolled her eyes, and Dean noticed that, unlike Castiel, she was dressed for the time. Purple flared trousers and a button up patterned with small grey polka dots was a combination he would never have pictured working, but it suited her surprisingly well. Dark waves of hair framed her face, and she looked pissed.
"Time is fluid, Dean. It's not easy, but we can bend it on occasion. It's not something we're meant to do, but that doesn't mean it doesn't happen."
He almost missed the look she shot the taller angel as he snapped at her.
"Well bend it back or tell me what the hell I'm doing here!"
"There's no use asking me, I'm not the one who bent it in the first place!"
He looked between them, finally seeing the awkwardness in their interactions.
"You didn't… this wasn't planned?"
"Not by me it wasn't."
Castiel cut in, looking a little flustered. "I told you, you have to stop it."
"Stop what? Huh? What, is there something nasty after my Dad?"
A car horn blared on the street and he turned to see what was going on. When he looked back, Castiel was gone.
"Oh, come on! What, are you allergic to straight answers, you son of a bitch?!"
Jophiel huffed, arms folded.
"Good luck getting anything out of him, he wouldn't even tell me why he did this."
"Wait, isn't he your boss?"
She scoffed. "No? What gave you that idea?"
"I - Well - Last time, you were crackin' jokes and he looked pissed."
"That's just his face, he don't have a sense of humour."
He laughed. "Yeah, I got that. So what, you his boss?"
"Technically."
"Technically?"
"Yeah, that's what I said. Technically. Now are we gonna follow your dad or not?"
They tracked John all the way to a car dealership, where they watched from a distance as he talked animatedly to a salesman. They were discussing a faded beige VW van.
"A fine young man like yourself, just starting out? How about I take off another 250?"
"Ok. Let's do it."
"I'll get the paperwork."
John inspected the van closely, lost in his own little world. He didn't hear Dean approach, and jumped as he started to talk.
"That's not the one you want."
He leant against a gorgeous black Chevy, grinning widely. John eyed him suspiciously.
"You following me?"
"No, no, I was just passing by. I never got to thank you for that cup of coffee this morning. I was a little out of it. My, uh, my friend came and found me not long after you left, she'd been worrying all over the place trying to find me, so, yeah. We wanted to come and say thanks, happened to be passing this way."
Thankfully, Jophiel had caught onto his story quickly, and she stepped forward to shake John's hand.
"I'm Annie. Thanks for looking out for him this morning, I spent all night worrying about where he'd got to."
John accepted the handshake, eyeing Dean. "Yeah, he was more than a little out of it. I'm glad I was able to help out."
Dean patted the hood of the Impala. "Well, let me repay the favor. This is the one you want."
"Oh yeah, you – you know something about cars?"
"Yeah... yeah, my Dad taught me everything I know." He cleared his throat, not wanting John to hear him choking up. "And this – this is a great car. 327 four barrel, 275 horses. A little TLC and this thing is cherry."
Jophiel watched, a smile catching the corners of her mouth as she watched the men gaze into the workings of the engine. John nodded, running a hand along the shining metal.
"You know man, you're right."
"Then what are you buying that thing for?" He jerked a thumb back at the VW, and John shrugged.
"I kinda promised someone I would."
"Over a '67 Chevy? I mean, come on, this is the car of a lifetime. Trust me, this thing's still gonna be badass when it's 40."
He thought for a moment, and moved to shake Dean's hand.
"John Winchester. Thanks."
"Dean Van Halen – and thank you. I was in pretty rough shape this morning, huh?"
"No kidding."
"I've been hung over before but, hey, I was, I was getting chills in that diner. You didn't feel any of those cold spots, did you?"
"Nope."
"I swore I smelled something weird too, you know? Like... like rotten eggs. You didn't happen to smell any sulfur by chance?"
"No."
"No... There been any cattle mutilations in town recently?"
Now looking properly freaked, John backed away a little. "Okay, mister! Stop it."
"Yeah, if only I knew what to stop. Listen, uh – watch out for yourself okay?"
"Yeah, sure."
Jophiel grabbed Dean by the sleeve, digging her fingers into his arm as she offered John an apologetic smile.
"I'm sorry man, Dean's clearly still a little shaky, probably needs some food. We'll leave you to the rest of your day now."
And she practically dragged him out of the parking lot.
The salesman returned, paperwork and clipboard in hand.
"So?"
He patted the Impala. "I'll take this one."
Jophiel had dropped Dean off at a rent-a-car place and told him she'd be back in a few minutes, before promptly disappearing. He didn't think he'd ever get used to that. He occupied himself with choosing the cheapest car they had (that looked like it would function, obviously) and had just signed the rental paperwork when she reappeared, arms full of brown paper diner bags.
"Wait, you actually got food? You have money?"
"What, you didn't think I'd come prepared? Besides, you could be here a while - you might as well eat."
They got into the car, and a grin spread across Dean's face as he rooted through the bags.
"Oh dude, nice job! These burgers look insane."
She grinned, stealing a handful of fries from Dean's bag. "What can I say? I've got taste."
"You know, you're so much more…" He paused, trying to think of how best to phrase it. "...human, than Castiel. And I mean that as a compliment, ok?"
Through a mouthful of burger, Jophiel hummed, then swallowed. "I get what you're saying. Most angels have spent the last several millenia kicking about in Heaven, but some of us get bored up there and come hang around here instead."
"How the hell do you get bored in Heaven?"
"Oh trust me, very easily. Now, you gonna drive or not?"
The Impala was a very distinctive car, so it didn't take them long to track John down again. He pulled up outside a house, and as they pulled up a little further down the street, a young blonde woman ran out to meet him.
"Hey."
"What's this?" She raised an eyebrow at the car.
"My car. Just paid for it - she's all mine."
"What happened to the van?"
"Mary, this is better than the van! This has got a 327, a four barrel carburetor…"
The rest of their conversation faded into the background as Dean's jaw dropped. He couldn't take his eyes off the curly haired blonde.
"Mom?"
As night fell, the young couple went back to the diner that John had been to earlier that day, taking seats in one of the booths and drinking milkshakes. Dean and Jophiel peered through one of the nearer windows.
"Sammy, wherever you are, Mom is a babe." He glanced down at the angel. "I said that out loud didn't I?"
"Yep." She nodded, a slight look of disgust on her pace.
"I'm going to hell... again."
"Probably."
The window was open, and they could just about hear the faint strains of John and Mary's conversation over the rest of the babble from inside.
"I should just talk to him."
"My Dad's being my Dad, John. It's not you."
"How is it not me? He's been like this for how many years?"
"He's just protective over me, that's all. He doesn't want me to –"
"Hook up with a mechanic from a family of mechanics?"
"No! Hey, I love you, for exactly what you are." She sighed, ran a hand over her face, and then visibly tensed. "I'll be right back."
She got up and headed in the direction of the restrooms, and they continued watching John. He pulled a small red ring box from a pocket and sat there turning it over in his hands, a slight frown creasing his forehead.
"Why are you following us?"
The two of them turned at the sound of Mary's voice, and she launched the attack instantly. She went for Dean first, kneeing him in the stomach and throwing him against one of the bins. He sidestepped her next punch and she turned to grab Jophiel, before second-guessing herself and returning her focus to Dean. Clearly, she sensed that going for the shorter girl wouldn't end well.
Dean shoved back.
"Are you crazy?"
"You've been trailing us since my house."
"I don't know what you're talking about –"
"Really?"
He managed to gain the upper hand and hold her against the wall.
"Okay, how about we talk about this, huh?"
"Let me go!"
Jophiel shoved her way between them, holding them apart.
"Alright, that's enough. Both of you. Dean, look at this." She ran a finger over Mary's bracelet, drawing his attention there. And he finally saw the protective charms that dangled there.
He pulled back, cogs whirling in his head. "Are you a hunter?"
Mary had returned to the diner and finished her milkshake before John gave her a lift home. He walked her to the front door, looking hopeful.
"See you later?"
"If you're lucky."
She planted a kiss on his lips and he grinned, making his way back to the car. The moment he pulled away, Dean and Jophiel joined her at the door, having discreetly followed them back - this time, with her knowledge.
"Dean and Annie, right? I'm not sure you should come in."
He waved her off. "You can trust us. I mean, come on, we're all hunters, right? I mean, we're – we're practically family."
"Yeah, thing is, my Dad, he's a little, um…"
"Oh, I gotta meet him."
"You've heard of him?"
The look on her face made him a little uneasy. "Clearly not enough."
Jophiel gave them both a reassuring smile. "It'll be fine, I'm sure. I only started hunting recently but Dean's an amazing teacher. He can hold his own."
Deciding to just bite the bullet and go for it, Mary led them through the house, missing the wink that Jophiel shot at Dean.
Samuel Campbell was seated at the dining table cleaning his handgun when they came in, and didn't look particularly impressed by Mary's introduction.
"So, you're a hunter? Well, tell me something, mister hunter, you kill vampires with wooden stakes or silver?"
Dean grinned. "Neither, you cut their heads off. So, did I pass your test?"
"Yep. Now get out of my house."
Mary rolled her eyes. "Dad!"
"I don't trust other hunters, Dean, don't want their help, don't want them around my family."
Bustling around in the kitchen, his wife tutted through the doorway.
"Knock it off, Samuel."
"He's a hunter. And his friend's a hunter-in-training, apparently, so I want them both out."
She joined them in the dining room, arms folded.
"Who passed your little pop quiz, and now I am inviting them both to dinner. Are you hungry?" Dean grinned. "Oh yeah, starving."
"Good. I'm Deanna, you've met my husband Samuel, now wash up."
As the two of them went to wash their hands, Dean stopped Jophiel in the hallway, looking thoughtful.
"Hold up, Samuel and Deanna?"
She smirked. "Yep."
"Deanna?"
"Yep."
"Whoa."
The five of them sat around the dining table enjoying Deanna's excellent cooking. While Samuel sat there looking like he was chewing a wasp, his wife was far more polite.
"First time in Lawrence, Dean?"
"Well, it's been a while. Things sure have changed... I think."
Samuel raised an eyebrow. "You two working a job?"
Jophiel nodded. "Yeah, maybe."
"What's that mean?"
Dean shrugged. "It means I don't trust other hunters either, Samuel. And I'm teaching Annie the same way."
Mary frowned. "Hey, um, so why were you following me and John?"
"Mmm, I thought something was after your, um, boyfriend, but um, I don't think that anymore. Must have got our wires crossed."
Deanna laughed. "John Winchester mixing it up with spirits, can you imagine?"
A less friendly look crossed Samuel's face, and Mary scowled.
"I saw that."
"What?"
"That sour lemon look."
"Now hold on, John's a really, really nice... naive civilian."
The look on her face told them that this was an argument this family had had at least once before. "So what? You'd rather me be with a guy like this?" She nodded towards Dean, who cringed back a little.
"What? No, no. No."
Samuel sighed. "Mary, of course not, it's just that I –"
Deanna cut him off with a warning look. "That's enough, both of you, we have company."
Things were awkwardly quiet for a few minutes as they continued eating.
Jophiel broke the silence.
"So what about you, Samuel? Are you working a job?"
"Might be."
Mary rolled her eyes. "He's working a job on the Whitshire Farm."
Dean missed the look that Samuel shot her as he mulled the words over in his mind.
"Whitshire, why does that name sound familiar to me?"
He gave in. "Well, it's been all over the papers. Tom Whitshire. Got tangled up in a combine a few towns over."
"That kind of thing happens."
"So why was he on it in the first place when his crops are all dead?"
"Demonic omens?"
"That's what I gotta find out."
"What about the rest of the town? Well, did you find anything on the web?" He rushed to adjust the sentence as Jophiel nudged him with her elbow. "...Of information that you have assembled."
The angel mouthed 'nice save' at him as Deanna continued, unaware of his slip up.
"Electrical storms maybe. The weather service graphs should be here on Friday."
"By mail?"
Samuel scoffed. "No, we hired a jet liner to fly 'em to us overnight."
He ignored the man's jibe. "You know, it sounds to me like we might be hunting the same thing. You know if we go in there in numbers, we could take care of this real quick."
"What part of "we work alone" do you not understand, son?"
Samuel's truck pulled up outside the Whitshire's farmhouse, and he looked across at his daughter. She raised an eyebrow.
"And I'm here because?"
"Family business, Mary... family. What? You'd rather be waving pom-poms at a bunch of dumb jocks?"
She didn't answer, instead climbing out of the truck and starting off in the direction of a boy loitering by a nearby tree.
"Where you goin'?"
"To do the job, Dad. That's why you brought me, isn't it?"
Shaking his head, he made his way over to the house and knocked at the door. His hand had barely returned back to his side when Dean opened the door, now dressed in a priest's shirt and collar. Past him, he could see a tearful Mrs Whitshire being comforted by 'Annie', who was playing the role of concerned churchgoer.
"Father, I see you beat me here."
Dean repressed a smug grin. "The Lord is funny that way. Beth Whitshire, this is my associate, our senior, senior priest, Father Chaney."
"Please accept our deepest condolences on behalf of the county diocese."
Beth sniffled. "Thank you."
Dean continued. "Mrs. Whitshire was just telling me all about Tom, and how normal and ordinary things were the day before his death."
"I see, so you didn't notice anything unusual, ma'am?"
She huffed. "You mean like my husband's guts fertilizing the back 40?"
Samuel found himself stunned into silence, and struggled to maintain his composure as Dean and Jophiel exchanged looks.
"Excuse us, Father."
The two of them left him standing there with the widow, and as they headed towards Mary where she was talking to the young man, Jophiel raised an eyebrow at Dean.
"Chaney? Really? Bit harsh, you are related to him."
"Yeah, that don't mean I have to like him though, does it? You telling me you've never disliked a relative? Or, whatever the angelic version is."
She shrugged. "See now, I didn't say that."
The look Mary shot them behind the boy's back was enough to get them to slip back into their professional facade once again, and as they reached them she patted the boy on the shoulder.
"Charlie, would you like to tell the Father here what you just told me?"
"Dad drank sometimes. Sometimes he got rough with Mom."
"And that's when the stranger came?"
"I just thought he was some Bible thumper, like you all. No offense. He showed up about a week ago."
Dean's suspicions grew. "Saying what?"
"Did I want the beatings to stop? I just thought he was crazy, I didn't think – and the next thing I know, Dad's dead. Am I going to jail?"
Mary shook her head. "You didn't do this, Charlie."
Dean tried to keep his tone neutral. "Did the stranger want something in return?"
"He didn't want anything."
"Come on, Chuck, he wasn't just handing out freebies now, was he?"
"He did say something about comin' a callin' ten years from now. Maybe he'd want something then."
Jophiel frowned, having a feeling that she knew exactly where this was going - and that Dean would lose his shit when he worked it out.
"Something like what?"
"I don't know, okay? Look, I told you he was nuts."
Mary pulled the two of them away, lowering her voice.
"What do you think?"
"I think he just pimped his soul to a demon and doesn't even know it."
She nodded, and returned to Charlie's side. "Charlie, do you remember what this stranger looked like?"
"Yeah, he was about 5'10, white, normal looking really."
"Anything else?"
He frowned, visibly uneasy. "There was one thing."
Dean raised an eyebrow. "What? It's okay, you can tell us. No judgement, I swear."
"It's just, the light hit his eyes in a weird way and... for a moment I coulda sworn…"
He trailed off a little, and Dean prompted him to continue.
"What? That they were black? Or red maybe?"
"No, they were yellow. Pale yellow."
As the realisation hit and Dean found himself staring at Mary, Jophiel dug her short fingernails into his wrist as firmly as she could. After the three of them thanked Charlie for his help and headed back to the truck, she spoke so quietly that he had to strain to hear her.
"Stay calm. The clearer your mind is, the more chance you've got of beating him this time. Do you understand me?"
He nodded back, and she appeared to relax a little.
She cursed herself for being reassured by that the moment they got back to the Campbell's house. Dean was practically frothing at the mouth as he laid out all the information he had on the table, ignoring Samuel's questions.
"What do you say we just slow down and talk this thing through."
"There's nothing to talk about."
"Except you're saying it's a demon, and none of us has ever heard of a demon with yellow eyes."
"Yeah, well, I have. This thing killed my family."
Samuel put a hand on his shoulder. "Just calm down, son."
But he shrugged the man off. "You don't get it, do you? You are in danger, we are all in danger. In fact, you need to get yourself someplace safe."
"Not until we know what we're dealing with here."
Deanna set the bowl of fruit salad down on the table and offered him a smile, trying to keep the peace.
"Sam's right, Dean, it could be a demon, it could be a shapeshifter, it could be any number of things."
"I know what this thing is! And I'm gonna kill it, that's all the talking I need to do."
Samuel scoffed. "You're gonna kill a demon? How?"
"There's a hunter named Daniel Elkins. He lives in Colorado, he has Colt's gun. The Colt."
"Yeah, I heard about the Colt, used to tell it to Mary as a bedtime story."
"Well, it's real."
He ignored the look that his grandparents exchanged as he examined the list of names and dates he had found in the journal.
"Alright, say that it is. You got some kind of crystal ball telling you where this demon's gonna be?"
"Yeah, maybe I do."
And he shoved the book across the table so they could see.
"What's this?"
"It's a list."
"Of what?"
"My Dad wrote down anyone he thought ever came in contact with the Yellow Eyed Demon: who, where and when."
"Why?"
He could feel his throat thickening with tears, and forced the words out. "'Cause the more he could learn about the son of a bitch, the more he could figure out why it killed my Mom."
Jophiel's hand settled between his shoulders as she leant to take a closer look at the dates.
"I've had dealings with this thing before, and it's definitely a demon. It just isn't like any I've encountered since."
She flipped the page, and Dean's finger landed on one name in particular.
"Look, Whitshire Farm. I told you that name sounded familiar."
Samuel frowned. "Whitshire Farms, that was two days ago. How the hell is that on your Dad's list?"
Dean felt himself fumbling for an answer, and hoped he'd recovered it well.
"Uh... my Dad could see the future. Look at this, it says he's gonna hit here tomorrow night."
Samuel squinted at the next name. "Liddy Walsh?"
"Haleyville, that's close."
"I mean, yeah, it's about three miles, but…" This time, Dean caught the look that they gave each other and sighed.
"I know you guys think I'm crazy."
"You seem like a really nice kid, Dean, but yeah, you're crazy."
He shrugged, closing the journal. "Yeah, maybe, but I know where this bastard's gonna be, and we're gonna stop it, once and for all. Coming, Annie?"
She nodded, jaw set. "Yeah. Let's go."
She wondered just how far things would get before she had to tell Dean the truth.
Before she had to tell him that they could do absolutely nothing at all.
Dean stopped by Mary's room, peering around the doorframe. She was listening to a record and thumbing through her collection, swaying in time to the soft music. He smiled, before clearing his throat.
"Hey, uh, we're shoving off. I just wanted to say, bye."
She frowned. "Really? So soon?"
"Yeah – job to do. Hey, I wanted to – to tell you, you know for what it's worth. Um... it doesn't matter what your Dad thinks, I like that John kid."
Jophiel grinned. "Me too. I think he's sweet."
She grinned back. "You do? Really?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I think you two are meant to be." Under his breath, he murmured, "Hell, I'm depending on it."
"Sorry, did you say something?"
"Nothing. Um, can I ask you a question?" She nodded. "What's he like? John."
"Why do you ask?"
"Just curious."
"I don't know. He's sweet, kind. Even after the war, after everything, he still believes in happily ever after, you know? He's everything a hunter isn't. No offense."
"No, none taken."
Her eyes lit up, and she leant in, sounding almost giddy. "Can I tell you something?" The two of them nodded. "He's gonna ask me to marry him. Tomorrow, I think!"
The two of them broke into massive grins.
"Yeah?"
"Oh Mary, that's wonderful."
She giggled. "Oh, Dad's gonna explode, but I don't care. I'll run away if I have to, I just… I love John, and…" Her face fell a little, and Dean frowned.
"And what?"
"I wanna get out. This job, this life, I hate it. I want a family, I wanna be safe. You know the worst thing I can think of? The very worst thing? Is for my children to be raised into this like I was. No, I won't let it happen."
He blinked back the tears that had come forwards at her words, and felt Jophiel's much smaller hand move to squeeze his.
"Yeah…"
Mary noticed the movement and looked between them, a frown creasing her forehead.
"Hey, are you okay?"
"Yeah, no, I'm – I'm fine. Hey, uh, Mary, can I tell you something?"
"Sure."
"Even if this sounds really weird. Will you promise me that you will remember?"
"Okay."
He took a shaky breath before continuing. "On November 2nd, 1983, don't get out of bed. No matter what you hear, or what you see. Promise me you won't get out of bed."
She was visibly confused, but could see that he needed to hear her agree.
"Okay. I promise."
A single tear escaped and tracked down his cheek, and he managed to smile at her before turning and leaving.
The two of them made it to the car, but before he could get in Jophiel stopped him, hands moving to wipe the tears away.
"Dean, I'm sorry. For all of this."
"Why? It's not like you're the one who sent me back."
"Yeah, but now you have to see this through. You're part of this story now, you can't just leave half way through. However this ends… you'll be right in the thick of it. And I'm sorry, because either way it's going to hurt to see the final outcome."
He nodded, hugging her for a moment before letting go. "Sorry. Getting all emotional on you like that. Stupid, huh?"
"No, it's not." She punched him in the arm. "Besides, I'd like to consider myself as one of your friends - and that's what friends are for. Working through all the weird shit that life throws at you. Now come on. We can get to Elkins' place by dawn if you shift your ass now."
The peace created by the familiarity of nighttime driving was a great comfort to him, but it didn't last long - Dean felt his heart jump into his throat as he caught sight of Castiel in the rearview mirror. Jophiel didn't look so surprised - but she didn't look overly pleased either. He scoffed.
"So what? God's my co-pilot, is that it?" Castiel just rolled his eyes. "Well, you're a regular Chatty Cathy. Tell me something. Sam would have wanted in on this, why not bring him back?"
"You had to do this alone, Dean."
"Yeah well 'alone' worked out real well didn't it, you pissed off your buddy enough that she's stuck by me this entire time. And you don't care that Sam's tearing up the future looking for me right now?"
"Sam's not looking for you."
He groaned, running a hand over his eyes. "Alright, if I do this, then the family curse breaks, right? Mom and Dad live happily ever after, and – and, Sam and I grow up playing little league and chasing tail?"
"You realize, if you do alter the future, your father, you, Sam – you'll never become hunters. And all those people you saved, they'll die."
"I realize."
"And you don't care?"
"Oh, I care. I care a lot, but these are my parents. I'm not gonna let them die again. I can't. No, not if I can stop it."
He glanced back, but Castiel was gone. He slammed his fists against the wheel, and Jophiel huffed.
"Oh, I've had enough of this. I'm getting answers from him. Now. I'll try to be back as soon as I can."
He nodded, and she disappeared too, leaving him to continue his journey.
Things had gone relatively smoothly until it came to opening the safe, Dean thought. He had made his way to Elkins' study undetected (or so he thought) and had found the safe with ease. But, as he cracked it and retrieved the Colt, he heard the sound of a gun cocking behind him, and got to his feet slowly. Daniel Elkins stood with a shotgun in his hand.
"Hold it right there, friend. Drop the gun and be on your way now."
He moved as if he was going to lay the gun down on top of the safe, but instead swung to aim at the man.
"Can't do it, Daniel."
Understandably, he was a little shocked that the intruder knew his name. "Who the hell are you?"
"A hunter, just like yourself."
"Thief's more like it."
"I just need it for a few days."
"Not happening, mister."
"Look, I have a chance to save my family's lives. My family. But I need this gun to do it. So if you want to stop me? Kill me. Because I ain't letting this thing out of my hand until the job's done."
Both men lowered their guns, and Dean headed for the door. They had an understanding.
"There's some hunters in Lawrence, the Campbells."
"Never heard of them."
He tapped the gun against his palm. "That's where she'll be. You have my word."
Mary had spent the whole day with questions on her mind, and she decided that the perfect time to ask was right now. As twilight deepened outside their windows, she and her father sat cleaning their guns at the dining room table; and he was a captive audience.
"Dean say where he was going?"
"Said he was gonna kill a demon."
She snorted. "Kill a demon? That's impossible."
"Yep."
"Whereabouts?"
The second the question left her mouth, he tensed a little. And as he answered, it was clear that his casual tone was incredibly forced.
"Uh... oh, I don't know, over in Haleyville, uh, Walsh's maybe."
Her face fell. "Wait, not Liddy Walsh?"
"Well, yeah, I- I- I think so."
"Dad, she's a friend of mine! We gotta help her."
She got to her feet as her mother stuck her head around the doorway.
"What's wrong?"
"I'll be in the car."
"Hey –"
But Mary brushed past her. Samuel shrugged.
"I mean, she wants to hunt, she doesn't want to hunt, is this some female time of month thing?"
Deanna shot him a look and went back to the other room, ignoring him as he called after her.
"What? Come on."
Doctor Brown sat opposite Liddy Walsh on the couch in her tidy living room, a soft gleam in his eyes as he took one of her hands in his.
"I'm sorry, Liddy, it's metastasized."
"Where?"
"His liver, his lungs. I… It's time we talked about arrangements."
She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "No, you have to do something, Dr. Brown."
"There is one way, a cure actually, but I'll need your help."
"What do I have to do?"
"Nothing. Just in ten years, I'm going to come to you and ask for something then."
"What?"
"Nothing you'll miss."
His friendly blue eyes flared yellow - and the door burst open. Samuel entered, firing at the demon. Liddy screamed as the bullet sunk deep into his chest, but the Doctor didn't even flinch. Instead he got to his feet, and as Samuel moved to fire again he waved a hand, sending the gun flying across the room. His next move pinned Samuel against the nearest wall, and Liddy looked like she was about to throw up.
"Oh, God."
The yellow-eyed demon scoffed. "Hold that thought."
Samuel grunted as he tried to push against the force holding him still.
"You son of a bitch."
The demon leant in closer, but something made him turn around - and he locked eyes with Mary. She swiped at him with her knife, and he grabbed her by the throat.
"Hello there. Where the hell have they been hiding you, huh?"
She continued the attack until he twisted her wrist, forcing her to drop the knife. Not missing a beat, she managed to land a solid right hook on his jaw. He barely reacted, even though the bone had made a sickening crunch.
"I like you. You got a lot of spunk."
The demon shoved her up against the wall, and Samuel strained to reach her again - with little success.
"Mary!"
Dean burst through the doorway, Colt in hand, and the demon moved Mary to act as a human shield.
"Let her go!"
It visibly flinched. "Where'd you get that gun?"
He cocked the gun and shot Mary the smallest of nods. She counted silently to three and flung herself to the floor, leaving the demon exposed. But before Dean could fire, black smoke poured from the Doctor's mouth and the man fell to the floor as the cloud vanished through the vent in the wall.
"Damn…"
After checking that Liddy was alright, the three of them left the house. Mary was visibly trembling, and Dean desperately wanted to hug her, tell her it was all going to be okay. But he had a feeling that might have been crossing a line.
"Mary, what else did he say to you?"
She stared off into the distance. "I told you, just that he liked me. What did he mean by that?"
Samuel frowned slightly. "Liddy's a strong kid, she'll be fine. But are you okay?"
She scoffed, folding her arms across her chest. "No, Dad, I'm pretty far from okay. Can we go?"
She picked up the pace and walked over to the truck, leaving Samuel and Dean standing together. The older man nodded, and patted the younger one on the back.
"Nice job in there."
He shook his head. "I missed the shot."
"Take the compliment, son. I'm saying that I was wrong about you."
Watching Mary as she clambered into the truck, he sighed.
"We need to talk. Alone."
Dean paced up and down the Campbell's dining room, frowning at the fact that Samuel didn't seem to understand the severity of the situation.
"We have to kill this thing now, or Mary dies."
"What? How do you know that?"
He pulled out his dad's journal and started flicking through the pages, looking for anything he could use to back him up. "I just do, okay?"
"When?"
"I don't know, maybe today, probably years from now, but it's happening, trust me."
"So what, are you some kind of a psychic now too?"
"No. Alright, listen to me." He sat down and took a deep breath. This was going to take a hell of a lot of work to convince him. "Now, this is gonna sound a little... actually it's gonna sound massively, massively crazy."
"Okay."
"Mary is my mother."
Samuel's eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"
"And I am your grandson, and I know what the hell I'm talking about."
"You wanna run that by me again, son?"
"My real name is Dean Winchester. I was born January 24th, 1979. My parents are Mary and John Winchester."
He scoffed and moved to stand up. "I don't have to listen to this."
But Dean grabbed him by the wrist, fingers digging into his skin,
"Mary gets killed by a yellow eyed demon in 1983, and I think that this – what happened tonight – I think this is the moment that he caught her scent. Now, if we don't catch this thing now, and kill it, and it gets away? Then Mary dies. So I am asking you, please."
John had agreed to come and pick her up from the house, concerned by how shaken she sounded over the phone, and when he arrived, Mary practically launched herself down the steps and into his arms. He pulled her close, stroking her back as she sniffled.
"Hey, you – you okay?"
"You promised you'd take me away."
"Of course I did."
"Do it now."
He opened the passenger door for her and she slid into the Impala. As he shut the door and walked around to the driver's side, a deep frown creased his forehead.
What could possibly have upset her this much?
Samuel had gone quiet, and Dean couldn't help but wish that Jophiel was still there - surely she'd be able to show him some proof, somehow. But for the moment, he was fending for himself.
"How did I know about the Colt? Huh? How did I know about the Yellow Eyed Demon? Or where it would be? I'm not making this up, Samuel."
"Every bone in my body is aching to put you six feet under, but there's something about you – I can't shake it. Now, I may be crazier than you, son, but… I believe you."
He felt himself breathe properly for the first time since they'd returned to the house.
"Thank you."
"I mean, how do we find this bastard?"
"Right here, the list." He tapped the pages of the journal.
"And with the Colt?"
"Yeah."
Samuel reached out, palm upwards. "Here, let me see it."
Something worried away at the back of Dean's mind, and he shook his head.
"Sorry, I don't let anybody hold it."
"I'm your grandfather."
"Nothing personal."
"No he isn't." The two men shifted to see Jophiel standing in the doorway. She was staring Samuel down, one hand wrapped around what looked like a knife tucked into her waistband.
The man smirked. "Now, that's not a very nice thing to say, is it? Of course it's personal. Especially when it's me you're trying to kill."
And his eyes turned yellow.
With the wave of his hands, the demon stopped the two of them from getting any closer to him, pinning Dean's chair against the wall and shoving the table to block Jophiel's path.
The yellow eyed demon grinned coldly.
"Future boy, huh? I only know one thing that's got the juice to swing something like must have friends in high places."" He leered at Jophiel. "You don't look so high and mighty to me, princess."
She smiled coldly. "Get a little closer and I'll prove you wrong."
He scoffed. "Aw, sugar. I'm having far too much fun to start a real fight this early." He turned his attention back to Dean, now close enough that their noses were almost touching. "So, I kill your Mommy? That's why you came all this way? To see little old me?"
"Oh, I came here to kill you."
"Hey, wait a minute, if that slut Mary's your Mommy, are you... are you one of my psychic kids?" The demon sniffed deeply, looking a little disappointed with what he detected. "No, not you. Maybe you got a sis, or a bro. That's terrific, means it all worked out. After all, it's why I'm here."
"So that's what this is about, these deals you're making. You don't want these people's souls."
"No, I just want their children. I'm here to choose the perfect parents, like your Mommy."
"Why her? Why any of them?"
"Because they're strong."
Dean noticed Jophiel gesturing in the background, and realised she was holding Deanna at bay. Thankfully, the demon didn't seem to notice that they had unrestrained company, and continued his gloating.
"They're pure, and they eat their Wheaties. My own little master race – they're ideal breeders." Dean pulled a face, and the demon tutted. "Oh, get your mind out of the gutter. No one's breeding with me. Though, Mary? Man, I'd like to make an exception. So far, she's my favorite."
Fuming, he struggled against the hold again, and failed. "So why make the deals?"
"I need permission. I need to be invited into their houses, I know, I know, the - the red tape'll drive you nuts, but in ten short years, it'll all be worth it. 'Cause you know what I'm gonna do to your sibling? I'm gonna stand over their crib and I'm gonna bleed into their mouth. Demon blood is better than Ovaltine, vitamins, minerals – it makes you big and strong."
"For what? So they can lead your discount demon army? Is that your big plan?"
"Please, my end game's a hell of a lot bigger than that kid."
"End game? What end game?"
"Like I'm gonna tell you, or those angels you got sitting on your shoulder like sweet cheeks over here. No, I'm gonna cover my tracks good."
"You can cover whatever the hell you want, but I'm still gonna kill you."
The demon scoffed. "Right. Now that, I'd like to see."
Dean sneered. "Maybe not today, but you look into my eyes, you son of a bitch, 'cause I'm the one that kills you."
"So, you're gonna save everybody, is that right? Is that it? Well, I'll tell you one person that you're not gonna save." And he took the kitchen knife from a pocket. "Your Grandpappy."
And with a wink, he took a step back and plunged the blade deep into Samuel's stomach.
Dean and Deanna cried out in unison.
"No!"
"No!"
Distracted by Deanna, the demon's focus on holding the duo in place faltered and Jophiel broke free, darting across the room to release Dean. The struggle in the kitchen continued as Dean fumbled for the Colt, but by the time the two of them reached it, the yellow-eyed demon was gone and Deanna lay dead on the floor, her neck visibly broken.
Dean called out, fearing the worst.
"Mary... Mary!"
But there was no answer.
John had parked the Impala up by the river, and the two of them had been snuggled in the front seat for what felt like forever. Mary enjoyed the peace and quiet of his company, free from the family bickering for just a little while, until John shifted to look at her properly.
"I guess it's no secret why I brought you way out here."
"John…"
"I just – just let me get through this, okay?"
"Okay, wait. There's things you don't know about me, John."
"So?" He shrugged, pulling the little ring box from his pocket and showing her the gleaming band inside. "I will always love you for exactly who you are."
Before she could reply, there was a bang at the window, and they turned to see a furious Sameuel standing outside.
"What did I tell you?"
"Dad!"
John got out of the car as the man pulled Mary out the other side. "Sir, just listen!"
"Ow! Dad! You're hurting me!"
At that, he ran round and tried to pry his hands away from her.
"Hey, take it easy!"
Samuel reached out, placed his hands on John's head and wrenched it violently sideways, breaking his neck with an audible snap.
He dropped to the floor and Mary screamed, falling next to him to cradle him in her arms.
"No! No, please." And she looked up at her father through a glittering film of tears. "You killed him."
"Oh, not just John, sweetie-pie. Mommy and Daddy too." His eyes flared yellow, and he unzipped his jacket to reveal the dark bloodstain on his shirt.
"No…"
"Yup, afraid so. You're little orphan Mary now."
"You son of a bitch!"
"Oh, sticks and stones may break my bones, and they won't bring your family back either."
"I'll kill you, I swear to God."
"Oh, let's not get nasty." He sat down next to her, a look of mock regret on his face. "Now look, we both said some things that we regret. Let's, um... kiss and make up."
She was crying too hard to really register what he was saying as he continued.
"I'll tell you what, I'll arrange to have lover boy here brought back breathing."
"My parents too?"
He tutted. "Nope, sorry doll, that's not on the table. But, think about it, you could be done with hunting forever. The white picket fence, station wagon, couple of kids, no more monsters or fear. I'll make sure of it."
"What? And all it costs is my soul?"
"Oh, no, you can keep your soul, I just need permission."
"For what?"
"Mmm, in ten years I need to swing by your house for a little something, that's all."
Her eyes narrowed as her suspicion grew. "For what?!"
"Relax. As long as I'm not interrupted, nobody gets hurt, I promise. Or you can spend the rest of your life, desperate and alone. Your choice, doll. It's a good deal. So what do you say?"
Trial and error had taken Dean and Jophiel to several different places before they eventually reached the river - just in time to see the yellow eyed demon kissing Mary forcefully holding her arm with a grip that looked painful. Dean threw himself out of the car almost before it had finished moving, Colt in hand.
"No!"
He aimed, but before he could fire the yellow eyed demon smoked out, leaving Samuel Campbell in a heap on the dirt. In the same moment John Winchester jolted back to life, gasping for breath.
"Mary?"
"John."
She pulled him closer with a sob, burying her head into his neck as he wrapped his arms around her, a little confused but understanding that she needed him in that moment.
Dean felt a hand settle on his shoulder and turned to see a solemn looking Castiel. He nodded, and everything went black.
When Mary looked up, she and John were alone at the riverside. Dean's car was empty, the lights still on, but there was no sign of him or his friend. The only thing they had for company was her father's cold corpse a few feet away.
Dean woke with a gasp, bolting upright. Castiel was standing near the end of the bed, and Jophiel sat just on the edge. She reached out and put a hand on his forearm, trying to keep him calm.
"You're back in your own time, Dean. It's over."
He shook his head. "I couldn't stop any of it. She still made the deal. She still died in the nursery, didn't she?"
Castiel took a step closer. "Don't be too hard on yourself. You couldn't have stopped it."
"What?"
"Destiny can't be changed, Dean. All roads lead to the same destination."
"Then why'd you send me back?"
"For the truth. Now you know everything we do."
"What the hell are you talking about?" He turned to look at Jophiel. "What the hell is he talking about?"
She sighed, chewing at her lip. "I may not agree with how Castiel decided to do this, but it needed to happen." She looked over at the other bed, and he followed her gaze.
"Where's Sam?"
Castiel headed for the door.
"We know what Azazel did to your brother. What we don't know is why – what his endgame is. He went to great lengths to cover that up."
"Where's Sam?"
"425 Waterman."
He got out of bed, grabbing his keys and jacket and shoving his feet into his shoes. The angels moved to stand together, and Castiel delivered his final warning.
"You brother is headed down a dangerous road, Dean, and we're not sure where it leads. So stop it. Or we will."
And they vanished.
See you soon, and happy reading!
Much love,
Azzie xx