Faith – Part 2
Hey everyone! Sorry it's been a minute since my last post, unexpected things were delaying my progress and there were several weeks where I wasn't even able to open up my laptop to write. Just a heads up, expect delays due to my busy schedule as of late, but that being said, I'm still going to try to dial back on my descriptions and move the plot along at quicker pace. (Some scenes will have more descriptions than others). Also please forgive the errors, I did not edit this as much as I would have liked. It's not the most polished chapter, but it's written and I finally can post something.
Welcome new readers! And thank you to all who posted a review on the last chapter. You guys keep me going!
Once they made it back to the Bakerson's Inn, Sam was seated at the pale-yellow kitchen table with papers scattered around him and is laptop opened with a downtrodden, almost ashamed, expression on his face. He informed Dean that Marshall Hall, the man who suffered from a sudden heart attack, died at four seventeen, the exact same time Dean was healed. And Sam being the astute man that he was, put together a list of the six people La Grange had healed over the past year and cross checked them with the local obits. Every time someone was healed someone else died in their place and they died from the same symptoms Le Grange was healing at the time. Somehow Reverand Le Grange was trading one life for another.
And just like that, Dean's suspicions were confirmed and Ellie's heart nearly plummeted into her gut at the disturbing news, bringing her to the terrible realization that Dean's life was spared at the expense of another. It was gut-wrenching to the little girl's soul as there was not an ounce of 'good' to be found in that.
"So, Marshall Hall died to save me?" Dean affirmed in disturbed outrage as remorse cut through him like sharp blade making his heart bleed with a harrowing ache.
"Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway and some else would have been healed." Sam countered with reason in an attempt to ease his brother's afflicted conscience, along with his own.
"You never should've brought me here." Dean accused in a deep voice of suppressed anger.
Standing just inside the large archway that divided the room, Ellie swallowed and licked her lips nervously taken aback by at the seriousness of the situation as she watched Dean paced angrily away from his brother.
"Dean, I was just trying to save your life." Sam admitted sadly confessing he had no idea it would turn out like this.
"But Sam, some guy is dead now because of me." Dean declared elevating his voice in peeved distress as he turned to address him.
"I didn't know." Sam assured sincerely feeling a crushing weight of responsibility press on his shoulders. If he had known, he sure as hell would have never have brought Dean to Le Grange.
"The thing I don't understand is, how is Roy doing it? How's he trading a life for a life?" Sam questioned in frustrated distress as he racked his brain for answers.
"Oh, he's not doing it, something else is doing it for him." Dean informed with a foreboding certainty to his weighted tone.
"What do you mean?" Sam pressed gently urging his brother to tell him what he knew.
"The old man I saw on stage. I didn't want to believe it, but deep down I knew it." Dean confessed as he grabbed a hold of the back of one of the high back chairs leaning his torso forward a bit and leveling a serious gaze at his brother.
"There is only one thing that can give and take life like that. We're dealing with a reaper." Dean affirmed with not an ounce of doubt in his grave tone, officially trusting his Hunting instincts and knowledge like he should have done in the first place.
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The next day was spent cooped up in the hotel room researching all about reaper lore giving Ellie the prime opportunity to carry out the daunting task of moving her stuffed backpack out of the bathroom. While Sam and Dean's eyes were fixated on the many papers of research in front of them at the kitchen table, Ellie sneakily retreated to the bathroom to retrieve her backpack.
Despite the dreadful anxiety that was tinging her nerves with every step, Ellie forced her movements into a casual manner. If she acted chill and calm, with an attitude of someone who had nothing to hide, then the astute men would think nothing of her normal actions in moving about the room and be none the wiser to what she was concealing. Making a point not to look at the men's seated frames at the kitchen table, Ellie treaded her feet casually through the large archway into the bedroom section of the room and strategically placed her Jansport behind her black duffle bag that was now tucked in the corner next to the half pony wall and the old chest of drawers.
Ellie stilled in her crouched position for a brief moment chewing on her bottom lip in hesitation as she thought for a fleeting moment to open her backpack and stuff her muddied jeans into her duffle bag and quickly slip the bolt cutters back into their gear bag. However, as quick as that foolish thought entered her mind, the quicker it left. The gear bag was on the other side of the bedroom section of the room and there was no way in hell she could accomplish carrying the large cutting tool across the room without being spotted by one of the Hunters. No matter how emersed they were in the research, Ellie was certain, without a shadow of a doubt, they would notice her carrying their hefty set of bolt cutters across the room. It was a stupid and suicidal strategy, no matter how she squared it, and Ellie wasn't prepared to risk life and limb over something that was sure to fail. No matter how much it pained her, she would just have to be patient and bear the stress a little longer until an opportunity arose where she could safely and securely hide the damning evidence undetected.
With her nerves gravely unsatisfied from the excessively hard task of being patient, something she never excelled at, especially when her ass was literally hanging in the balance, Ellie reluctantly left her stuffed Jansport where it sat. As casually and as unbothered as she could make herself, Ellie walked back through the large archway and passed the back of Dean's seat frame towards the small white coffee maker on the kitchen counter with every intention of making another pot. That had become her job as of the past couple hours, along with fetching anything and everything they requested. From coffee, to papers, to aspirin, anything that didn't make them break their engrossed concentration. Not the job she would have chosen for herself and, although it made her feel like a waitress, she was pleased to be doing something of use, even if it was just taking orders. It was a hell of a lot better than siting and doing nothing with her edgy anxiety as of late. And she didn't dare complain, not once, not even when they refused to let her be of any help in the research which had a hell of a lot to do with the festering guilt she felt about her whole depiction, forcing her to be an obedient angel. It seemed her conscience wouldn't let her be anything, but compliant considering what she done. However, even though she was undeniably guilty, it would seem she wasn't guilty enough as to confess her transgressions to the protective Hunters. Not just for the selfish and immature reasons of saving her own hide and sparing herself the dreadful disappointment from the men, which play an enormously large part in keeping her mouth shut, but for survival reasons. Yet, if Ellie was being honest with herself, even if it wasn't for the intent of keeping her connections to witchcraft hidden, the young teen would still, sadly, opt to take the low road as the fear of being hated and cast aside was intensely more powerful than her desire to be the model teenager.
"So, Roy's using black magic to bind the reaper?" Dean's question rang into Ellie's engaged ears causing the teens muscles to freeze in disturbance as her back muscles stiffen halting her movements completely. Ellie was shocked at the alarming knowledge that Le Grange was perhaps using 'black magic'. The very source she going to look into for saving Dean's life; the forbidden practice her mother had used countless times to combat the supernatural and lock her family's Colt in a blood spell.
No matter the very important certainty that Ellie would never trade a life for life, as that was nothing short of pure evil, and the young teen could never imagine even thinking of such a heinous concept, it, nevertheless, didn't stop the hardy knock of fitting fear and guilt that collided against her tight chest, bringing her back to the disturbing reality of just how dark and vile black magic could be in the wrong hands.
In a desperate attempt to push away the guilt and natural fear that was rapidly rising within her, Ellie swiftly reasoned that inexperienced civilians and morally deranged people couldn't possibly navigate something so complex and touchy as black magic. They were not Elizabeth Colt and did not have a clue how to use it properly and work around the 'bad' within the practice. Granted, Ellie was not the prodigy her mother was either, not by a long shot, and did not have the experience nor the practice she wished, but it sure as hell was more than clueless 'citizens' meddling in the things they couldn't even begin to understand. The young naive teen, was certain she would never use it immorally like Le Grange.
With her eyes glued to the sheer curtain draped over the window above the chrome kitchen sink, Ellie swallowed as she attempted to collected her nerves and relax her stiff muscles enough that she didn't look like a freaking statue.
"If he is, he's riding the whirlwind, it's like putting a dog leash on a great white." Sam commented gravely in scoffing disturbance as he shook his head, knowing full well that meddling with spirits as strong and powerful as reapers was egregiously dangerous and the consequences to the wielder was just as grave and disturbing as the innocent victims of the atrocities.
A thick and weighted silence fell over the room as Dean stood up from the high back chair and walked purposefully over to the counter placing his white stained coffee cup in the sink.
Having a swift and pressing desire to not be in close proximity to Dean at the moment, as she could practically feeling the intensity radiate off the robust man, Ellie swiftly and decisively walked away from the black counter top and towards the opposite side of the kitchen table. Although she instinctively wanted to give the man some space, she was unable to stop herself from becoming engaged with what the Hunter had to say settling her boots just a few feet on the other side of the kitchen table.
Ellie watched Dean intently as he turned around and leaned his backside against the black counter's edge gripping his palms on either side of his sturdy frame. A rigidness set about his strong physic as the muscles and the veins in his bare forearms bulged and flexed against his tight skin, a weighty expression of grave contemplation crossing over his masculine features.
"Okay then we stop Roy." Dean declared bluntly in a deceive manner, but there was a hard edge to it that left Ellie with touch of unease.
"How?" Sam urged gently from his seated position at the table, not at all catching Dean's meaning.
"You know how." Dean informed frankly with a heavy intensity to his firm tone. A hard determination set against his weighty expression as he allowed the fierce urgency to put an immediate stop to the killings drive the guilt-ridden man to the less than pretty solution. An innocent man was dead because of Le Grange's meddling in the evil practice, along with many others and the worst part of it all was, although ignorant at the time, Dean, nevertheless, allowed it to happen. It didn't matter if he didn't know it at the time, a man was dead because of him and the horrid reality of that was excessively hard to take for the Hunter knowing more lives were at stake with every passing day that 'monster' was breathing. Le Grange was a dangerous and deranged serial killer, plain and simple, and, as far as Dean could see, had no intention of stopping his evil atrocities unless they did something about it. From Dean's perspective, the man loss the right to live as soon as he crossed the line into his deliberate murdering spree.
Ellie felt her breath wedge in the back of her throat at Dean's chilling insinuation. Not at all dense to the Hunter's meaning, Ellie's lips parted a touch and her complexion paled with stunned realization. It was no secret the man was no preacher and wasn't at all afraid of getting his hands dirty to save lives, carrying out his own sense of justice outside the lines of civilian law.
While Ellie had been surrounded by rough characters all her life, as Hunter's weren't exactly gentle-minded individuals, and was no stranger to the harsh realities of dirty solutions when the situations 'warrant' it, ending another person's life was shocking to the teenager's young and tender soul nevertheless. Although perhaps not as shocking as it should be, as she was harshly and unfairly desensitized to many things as a Hunter's kid, it still hurt something within her spirit to hear.
"Wait. What are you talking about Dean? We can't kill Roy." Sam countered in calm, but immovable tone absolutely against the idea of resorting to murder, no matter what the man's sins were.
"Sam, the guys playing God. He's deciding who lives and who dies, that's a monster in my book." Dean disputed, his deep voice rising with heated emotion.
A grave unease began to sink into Ellie's bones as she paralleled her intentions of using black magic to Le Grange's meddling. If Dean saw Le Grange as a monster deserving of death, what would that make Ellie to him if he knew her initial intentions or, worse, her ties to witchcraft? Of course, she wasn't murdering people and trading lives like Le Grange was and never would resort to that evil, but that didn't change the fact that she was looking into black magic and was affiliated to it by blood. The intense fear Ellie had felt for them discovering her secrets suddenly amplified to a massive degree to the point where her legs physically felt wobbly and weak forcing her to make a conscious effort not to tremble like a leaf where she stood. Ellie, subconsciously, began to fiddle with her fingers twisting and picking at her nails in an attempt to hide the fact that her hands were shaking so bad as the sheer stress of her situation became overwhelmingly more dreadful. Although, Ellie knew in her heart of hearts, Dean would never even think of ending her life, the man, like many Hunters alike, had the motive and was more than capable and that was damn near petrified the thirteen-year-old to her core.
"No, we're not going to kill a human being, Dean. We do that, were no better than he is." Sam declared with an immovable resolve snapping his brother out of his emotionally driven solution.
"Okay, we can't kill Roy, we can't kill death. Any bright ideas, college boy?" Dean challenged a biting edge of accusation to his tone indicating that Sam was the one that got them into this mess in the first place. From Dean's point of view, there was no other immediate solution other than cutting off the head of the snake in this situation, but like many times before, his rational minded brother proved him wrong.
"Okay, uh…if Roy is using some kind of black spell on the reaper, we got to figure out what it is and how to break it." Sam presented laying out a clear path to a solution that didn't end in terminating Roy's life.
Much to Dean's surprise that made a whole lot of sense to him and found his heated temper calming almost immediately at his brother's rational words pulling him away from the idea that ending Roy's life was the only path to be taken. While Dean agreed with his brother and was all for taking the righteous avenue that did not involve taking someone's life, there was hardness weighted in the back of his mind that if after all other options had been exhausted and the man was going to continue to kill, he would not forgo blooding his hands on this one if it came down to. The guy was a serial murder of six innocent people and while he hoped with all his might, they could solve this cleanly, in his experience, that wasn't always the case and the steadfast Hunter was not going to let another person die just because the man was a human being.
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Ellie would be lying if she said she wasn't hardily surprised to find out that Sue Ann, Le Grange's wife, was the one behind the black magic murders. Dean had caught Sue Ann standing in the far corner of the church tent chanting in Latin with a bulky ancient-looking Coptic cross in her hands, a surefire sign of satanic ritual. While Ellie was secured in the backseat of the Impala for most of the happenings that afternoon, Ellie realized later on that Dean had stopped Sue Ann just in time before she traded someone's life for Layla's. Although, Ellie knew deep down, that it was right to stop Layla from being healed, it hurt Ellie deep down knowing she was going to die in a couple of months from her cancerous brain tumor. A complex feeling of unfairness and confusion swarmed within Ellie's young conscience, wondering why life was so cruel to good people. And while Ellie was disturbed and saddened that Dean's life was saved at the expense of another and wished wholeheartedly that he was 'healed' a different way, at the same time, there was this selfish and private gladness that he was spared. Despite the hardy shame at her human feelings, she couldn't change the fact that she was deeply relieved the man she cared about was the one alive and healthy.
"So, Roy really believes." Sam commented in sad recognition as he sat on the edge of the far firm mattress back in the Bakerson's hotel room.
"I don't think he has any idea what his wife is doing." Dean commented pulling back on the sheer inner curtain draped over the bedroom window, instinctively checking to make sure they weren't followed back to the hotel by cops or meddlesome onlookers after shouting 'fire' in the church tent to put a stop to the black spell Sue Ann was attempting to use.
"Well, I found this hidden in their library." Sam said pulling out a small black leather book from his inner jacket pocket. Sam propped his elbow on his thigh leaning forward a bit holding the old book up for his brother's viewing as Dean sat on the corner edge of the adjacent mattress across from Sam, his intrigued eyes fixed on the worn black leather binding.
"It's ancient. Written by a priest who went dark side. There's a binding spell in here for trapping a reaper." Sam informed in a weighty tone as he handed the ancient spell book over to Dean.
Ellie, who was standing just few steps behind where Dean was seated, purposefully keeping in the background of the men's space, felt her muscles jolt and flex beneath her skin as she pictured the Grimoire she had secretly tucked away in her backpack just on the other side of the room. Comparatively, Sue Ann's spell book was egregiously small and nowhere near as extensive as the Grimoire she had in her possession. Just from looking at it, Ellie could tell, Sue Ann's Grimoire was in the minor leagues compared to the hefty textbook sized brick she had weighing down her backpack and that send an unsuspecting chill of grave unease down her spine.
"Must be a hell of a spell." Dean commented a bit taken by the sheer magnitude and power of preforming something so extreme.
"Yeah, you gotta build a black alter with some seriously dark stuff – bones, human blood." Sam continued feeling an afflicted disgust rise within him as he exhaled a weighted waft of air through his nose.
"To cross a line like that, that preacher's wife – black magic, murder…evil." Sam professed shaking his head hardily sickened by the atrocious notion and the lengths this supposably 'woman of God' went to.
Ellie flicked her eyes up from the opened spell book Dean was flipping through to Sam's disapproving expression feeling a blossoming heat of anxious fear spread against her tight chest making her lick her lips and swallow hard. Elements of serious doubt began to fester and conflict within her young mind fighting harshly against her initial attitude. Although not completely changing her heart, it was putting up a damn good fight against her conscience and shaking her confidence to the point she was second guessing her bold actions in looking into the forbidden practice as the sheer evilness of it all was undeniably daunting and severely dangerous. What if she couldn't navigate it and something went wrong?
Despite her gut telling her otherwise, Ellie worked hard to rationalize her justification that black magic was only evil if you used it with the purpose of ill intent. Murder was most definitely crossing the line, but the magic itself could be used for good, if navigated correctly. Her mother used it in hunting and her mother wasn't evil, not by a long shot. She saved countless lives from her ability to work around the practice and 'good' did, indeed, come from it, but Ellie knew Hunters were Hunters and they would never see it that way nor would they even attempt to understand it.
"Desperate." Dean countered with certainty making Ellie snap her attention back to Dean. "Her husband was dying, she would have done anything to save him. She was using the binding spell to keep the reaper away from Roy." Dean explained thinking her intentions started out as just a desperate attempt to save someone she loved. Ellie blinked her russet brown eyes down at the man as he was describing the exact way she was feeling when he was dying bringing her to the realization that her intentions were the same as Sue Ann's in the beginning.
"Cheating death." Sam mused, a pensive expression molding into his masculine features.
"Literally." Sam scoffed absolutely baffled by the disturbing idea of playing God.
"Yeah, but Roy's still alive, so why is she still using the spell?" Dean asked wondering what her purpose was for continuing to trade lives after Roy was healed.
"Right. To force the reaper to kill people she thinks are immoral." Sam answered nodding his head in affirmation to himself as he remembered the newspaper clippings, Sue Ann had tucked away within the pages of the ancient spell book which consisted of articles about the protester of the church and the openly gay teacher, Marshall Hall.
A weighted realization began to wash over Dean's face as he scoffed shaking his head in disturbance and disgust.
"God save us from half the people who think they are doing God's work." Dean expressed with a disappointed heaviness hanging on his tone.
"We gotta break that binding spell Dean." Sam insisted urgently knowing time was of the essences and they couldn't keep stalling Sue Ann without getting arrested by the local law enforcement that was now on high alert after Dean shouted 'fire' in the church tent.
Dean turned his attention downwards to the open spell book in his hands. An illustration of a black Coptic cross at the bottom right corner of the marked page pinched at Dean's memory.
"You know Sue Ann had a Coptic cross like this. When she dropped it, the reaper backed off." Dean recalled thinking it must have some significance over the spell.
"So, you think we gotta find the cross or destroy the alter?" Sam pressed uncertain of what would officially break the spell.
Ellie felt her body stiffen in conflicted hesitancy as she contemplated revealing her knowledge on the taboo subject. If she exposed what she knew, there was a grave risk of them growing suspicious and asking questions as to why she, a thirteen-year-old, would know something so specific on satanic practices. However, if she remained silent and opted to keep her lips sealed, Sam and Dean might not be prepared which could ultimately lead to the failure of the Hunt or, worse, lead to more lives being lost in the process. And, Ellie, no matter how much her survival instincts wanted to spare her own hide, the truth of the matter was, the teenager could not bear the thought of lives being lost all because she was too much of a selfish coward to open her damn mouth and speak up. Some things were more important than her needs and saving lives was definitely one of them. Ellie closed her eyes taking a deep breath of courage and, against her better judgment, decided to speak.
"Both." Ellie chimed in swiftly before she could change her mind, making Sam and Dean snap their attention towards the young teenager who had been an unnoticed fly on the wall until now.
Trying her best to ignore the surprised look on their faces, Ellie sighed heavily before continuing, attempting to push down the fierce reluctance battling within her conscience.
"But if she's already completed the alter ritual, it won't matter if you destroy the alter. She probably has her blood in the cross somehow and that's what you need to destroy." Ellie explained as straightforward as she could in a far calmer tone than she felt as her chest become enormously heavy with burdening fear, agitating her nerves with severe unrest as she went against the survival instincts.
"And how the hell would you know that?" Dean inquired firmly, his deep voice coming from chest, in a tone that was a bit more stern than he meant, as he looked over his shoulder at the teenager behind him. Dean's mind was aggravated with stress and the burdening weight of guilt and responsibility of allowing himself to be 'healed' with black magic was pressing on his body intensely. Along with the urgent need to personally put a stop to the killings, the man understandably tense and his mood wasn't exactly jolly and it showed. While he was more curious than anything else, Dean didn't like the idea of Ellie knowing anything about such things and part of him thought Ellie could've just made that up on the spot.
Despite anticipating that response, it didn't stop her anxiety from jolting into a jittery panic making her legs, once again, feel like jelly, at Dean's stern tone and rigid expression. Although, she should be used to the man's stern aura by now, considering she just exposed her specific knowledge of the sinful practice straight to their faces, it made her downright intimidated and making the excessively hard task of keeping a cool and confidant demeanor even more difficult.
"My-My uncle hunted a witch a while back and, um, I remembered a few things." Ellie lied shruggingly as she attempted to brush off his question in an unbothered manner and not reveal just how badly her nerves were shaking with horrendous unrest. Although she did a good job for the most part in keeping her voice calm, there was a slight touch of nervousness in her tone that was not missed by either of the Hunters.
"You're uncle needed to break a binding spell on a reaper?" Sam asked calmly with clear skepticism in his tone as he raised his dark brows on his forehead. This was an unusual circumstance and it would be astronomically unusual to have two chases so similar, but, then again, it was not impossible.
"Not a reaper, but a spirit of some kind, I can't really remember." Ellie brushed off in a dismissive manner trying desperately to ignore the pounding of her heart in her tight chest. Despite her tone being even and calm, she did not look at either of them in the eye and seemed more than eager to cut her gaze away from them as she swayed and fidgeted with her fingers. Keeping her slender posture closed in and her head dipped down hiding her face under the shadowy protection of her navy cap, Ellie felt an horrendous awkwardness come over her as there was a beat of silence that seemed to drag on far more than it did.
Dean's brow furrowed feeling a brush of fitting unease touch his nerves, but almost immediately the man dismissed as nothing more than his agitation from the Hunt. She couldn't remember the type of 'spirt', but she remembered the alter and the blood cross? Go figure. Although strange, Dean had more pressing matters to concentrate on and deemed her nervousness as a natural childlike fear towards something so vile. Unfortunately, Dean couldn't have been more wrong.
"Whatever we do, we better do it soon. Roy's healing Layla tonight." Dean declared decisively before standing up and walking towards the kitchen section of the room.
Ellie tilted her head up watched Dean's retreating frame walk into the kitchen under her navy cap, but a set of heavy eyes weighing against her had her casting her attention back towards Sam who remained seated on the edge of the mattress staring intently at Ellie. Although the outer expression on Sam's face was neutral and somewhat soft, there was something behind his pensive green eyes that seemed uneasy or even a bit suspicious. Although Ellie was a Hunter's kid and it was obvious and expected that she knew more than most pertaining to the supernatural, having specific knowledge of witchcraft was unusual, if not flat-out disturbing to Sam in a way. Despite the reasonable notion of her uncle hunting a witch and Ellie gaining specific of knowledge from that particular hunt not out of the realm of possibilities, there was just something about it that left Sam wary. Not just because Ellie shouldn't know these dark disturbing aspects of witchcraft, but because of her disturbing suggestion of 'just once we could use the spell' to her uncle during that phone call several weeks ago making the astute Hunter disinclined to brush off her words so lightly.
If Ellie had not made that disturbing comment to her uncle, Sam would be more persuaded by Ellie's words, but small things the young teenager had said over the past several months, which may have seemed innocent and inconsequential at the time, were starting to add up in his head in a disconcerting way making those innocent comments appear be a bit more than innocent.
Ellie felt her heart stop beating as her breath clogged in her throat feeling her chest tighten harshly, fully comprehending the man was in no way comfortable about what she had revealed. Although his gaze was not harsh or penetrating, one thing was for sure, it was by no means trusting and Ellie understood that far more than she wished. Casting her attention downwards and away from his gazing eyes almost immediately, Ellie shifted and swayed on her feet feeling her body automatically close in on itself as she bit down on her bottom lip. Feeling immensely uncomfortable, and the powerful urge to get out of the man's direct gaze, without a word, Ellie awkwardly turned and treaded her boots a bit too swiftly across the carpet towards the bathroom.
Sam still sitting on the edge of the mattress unmoved, squinted his green eyes a bit as he watched the teenager's slim frame walk away from him seeming only too eager to get out of his presence. Although Sam didn't rightly know what the teenager was hiding, his gut was beginning to tell him she was hiding something and it was something more her usual secrets she was keeping from them. There was something about her demeanor that was just off and although, she was doing a pretty damn good job of hiding whatever it was, Sam knew Ellie well enough by now that she was acting strange. In light of her less than pleasant knowledge on witchcraft, Sam was coming to recall that Ellie had been unusually distant and quiet these past couple days, not striking up conversations about the Hunt, or anything for that matter. Although the withdrawn teenager was not known to share and care, when it came to hunting, she always wanted to be involved in some way shape or form and to have her not complain, even once, when they refused or to insist they allow her to help in some way was just plain out of character. The more Sam reflected over the past few days on Ellie, the more unsettled he became as he recalled her blending into the background and hiding in the shadows almost every time they were in close proximity to each other, keeping an odd distance between herself and them. And if Sam didn't know any better, he would have thought she was trying to get by unnoticed or worse, contemplating about running away again. While he didn't see an immediate reason for her to make a break for it again, that didn't mean there wasn't one and, as evidence would suggest from her last escapade, the kid was more than capable of it.
While Dean may be distracted with the Hunt and wrapped up in the guilt, Sam Winchester was in no way oblivious to the teenager's odd behavior and was now more inclined than ever to keep a very close eye on the secretive girl.
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To Sam's grave surprise, it turned out little Ellie was right in regard to destroying the alter and the Coptic cross. That night, in the middle of Sue Ann chanting her satanic spell in the attempt to take Dean's life in exchange for Layla, Sam ripped the cross out of the woman's clutching grasp and smashed it against a rock breaking it into pieces. And just like Ellie predicted, her blood oozed out of the broken hollowed pieces and, like fate itself knocking on her door, the freed reaper appeared before Sue Ann, bestowing upon her the very same fate she forced on all her victims, emphasizing the old saying 'you reap what you sow'.
Back in the hotel room, Ellie was flat-out exhausted. Not because she had participated in the Hunt as she was kept secured in the Impala the whole time due to Sam and Dean not wanting her getting involved in fear of Sue Ann targeting her. However, Ellie was absolutely convinced that it was all for the simple reason that they didn't want her in the way, so they could do their job without having to look after a teenager. But even still, the constant weighted stress she was carrying about the hunt, in addition to the secrets she was hiding, made her downright spent and in serious need of rest.
Quickly walking the length of the mattress, Ellie unzipped her slate brown jacket and shimmed the thick fabric off her heavy shoulders and pulled her arms through the sleeves. Without breaking her strides against the thin grey carpet, gripping the thick fabric in her grasp, Ellie carelessly tossed her jacket onto her black duffle bag and backpack that still lay untouched in the corner between the half pony wall and the chest of drawers. Ellie treaded her boots across the threshold of the archway and into the kitchen section of the room before entering the bathroom to take care of some urgent business. It had been a long night and she couldn't even remember if relieved herself even once today, but judging by the strong pressure surrounding her bladder, she probably hadn't.
Sam and Dean went about their business with every intention of going to bed and resting their weary muscles and troubled minds. Once Dean walked through the entrance archway, he briskly grabbed the straps to his duffle bag off the chrome luggage rack that sat to the left of the wooden chest of drawers. With an unsatisfied and wary frown cherished into his firm expression, the man carelessly plopped his bag onto the stiff mattress. Standing at the foot of the bed, Dean took off his trucker jacket and tossed it onto the bed before digging through the bottom of his duffle bag for a clean shirt to sleep in. However, as he grasped onto the choral grey t-shirt, the man was suddenly taken by a casual curiosity finding it instinctually odd that his fingers didn't brush up against Ellie's sliver switch blade which he always kept at the top right-hand corner of his bag behind his shirts. Offhandedly thinking perhaps it got jostled to another section, Dean dug through his bag, pushing aside his belongings expecting to come across it almost immediately. However, much to his growing annoyance, that wasn't the case and every passing second the man came up empty handed the more aggravated his already testy nerves became. Feeling his teeth grit in irritation and a provoked groan humming in the back of his throat, Dean gave up the search, giving into the very logical conclusion that Ellie had undoubtably taken it out of his bag without his permission.
With a vexed scowl indented into his tense face muscles, Dean jerk his attention over his broad shoulder to Ellie's bags and jacket that sat strewn in the corner on the opposite side of the dresser. Despite his initial intention of calling Ellie out of the bathroom and demanding she give it back to him, Dean, found himself hesitating knowing he did not have the temperament at the moment after the trying night to be anywhere near patient with the sneaky girl. He was edgy, disheartened, tired and just in a foul mood and rather than risk going through a round of her lying to him or, worse, her refusing to give it back, which would undoubtably end with her getting more than a few good cracks on the ass for her troubles, Dean decided it was best to retrieve the blade himself and spare himself the battle that would surely ensue. However, that did not mean he did not have every intention of tearing her a new one as soon as he found it.
Dean walked over to the corner that Ellie had claimed and squatted down onto his heels in front of her bags. He grasped ahold of her slate brown jacket with the intent of going through the pockets. However, Dean paused his brisk movements suddenly as his eyes caught sight of something odd. The lines in Dean's vexed expression grimaced into a quintessential 'what the hell' look as it didn't escape the man's notice that Ellie's backpack was budging from its contents and, being the observant man he was, never recalled seeing her bag this overly stuffed before.
Feeling he had more right than ever to go through her belongings, swiftly and without hesitation, Dean tossed her jacket to the side and grasped ahold of the top of her Jansport placing it on top of her black duffle bag in front of him, noting with a rising disturbance of just how heavy it was. What the hell did the kid have in there? Bricks? With his brows furrowed in uneasy suspicion and a bad feeling forming in the pit of his stomach, Dean wasted no time unzipping the main zipper of her backpack.
A pair of wrinkled Levi's sat carelessly stuffed on the top of the backpacks contents made Dean instinctively curious as to why she would have a pair of jeans stuffed in her backpack when she had a perfectly good duffle bag for clothes. However, the reason became all too apparent for the Hunter when grasped a hold of the dense fabric and he pulled them out for further inspection noticing the girl's Levi's were speckled with dried mud around calf and shins with two distinct blotches of grime encircling around the kneecaps, displaying that the kid ran through a muddied area and kneeled in dirt at some point. That bad feeling Dean was having in the pit of his stomach suddenly intensified tenfold as he cut his eyes away from the muddied Levi's and into the opened bag for further evidence of what Ellie had been concealing. And what he saw next nearly sent Dean into next week with utter shock. His eyes locked onto a pair of bolt cutters, but not just any bolt cutters, his bolt cutters, which were situated in her bag with the distinct black handles jutting outward. His green eyes suddenly flashed with stunned disbelief before grasping a hold of one of the handles and pulling it out of her backpack. Holding it out in front of him, Dean's eyes raked over his well-maintained cutting tool observing the dried ruminates of smeared mud along the handles and all the way down to the blades.
What the actual fuck?
A horrid sensation of alarmed fury was washing over the man as he took in the obvious and disturbing evidence that Ellie had been busy doing things he was damn near certain she had no business doing. And it didn't take much of Dean's observation skills and intuition to understand the naughty kid was attempting to sneakily do it behind their backs riling up Dean's danger at an enormously quick rate.
Casting his attention back down to the open backpack, Dean eyes captured the top of a large old book which looked unsettlingly out of place amongst the girl's modern belongings.
Dean didn't know what the old book contained, but he was certain it wasn't from this century and it damn well wasn't 'Harry Potter' that was for sure. Judging by the evidence of the muddy jeans and his bolter cutters, it didn't take a genius to put the damning puzzle pieces together of Ellie's little escapade, agitating the growing flame of outrage in the man's gut which was intensifying with every passing second as he came to the horrid realization that the kid undoubtably left the damn hotel room at some point without their knowledge.
Dean gritted his teeth together feeling his jaw muscles tense and flex as he put the bolt cutters down by his boot before grasping a hold of the top of the old book and pulling it from her bag. His acute green eyes gazed over the old worn leather cover before opening it and flipping through the yellow tinted pages, the musty stale order wafting into his nostrils as his scanned the contents. It wasn't, but two whole seconds before the experienced Hunter knew exactly what he was looking at and that was a disturbing and extremely dark Grimoire. An evil guide book chocked full of recipes and instruction on how to preform black magic, reserved for the dark and twisted practice of witchcraft, undoubtably written by some powerfully deranged psycho who worshiped Satan. But if the Grimoire itself wasn't bad enough, this particular one was the most sophisticated, highly detailed, satanic piece of demonic shit Dean had ever come across. Dean was flabbergasted with horror and intense shock. Questioned raged through Dean's mind as an overwhelming fury washed over him sending sparks of outrage against his tense chest realizing she had done this right under their noses. How this extremely dark spell book came into the girl's procession, Dean did not know all the details, but judging from the muddy evidence of her jeans and his bolt cutter all, but told Dean she had snuck off on a little adventure at some point to retrieve this book. When she left, where she got it, and why, he did not know, but one thing was for sure, he damn well was going to find out.
The sound of the toilet flushing snapped Dean's attention away from the dark spell book in his hands towards the bathroom door watching Ellie's slender frame emerge into the kitchen area through an opening in the decorative iron panel he was behind. Still in his crouched position Dean watched the clueless teenager stride over to the sink casually, completely oblivious to what the Hunter just discovered. The girl's back was turned as she grabbed a glass from the wall cabinet to the right of the sink. Ellie placed the glass under the spicket and turned the cold water on. After filling the glass up half way, Ellie gulped down a couple of swigs satisfying her thirst.
Never taking his hard eyes off the teenager's turned back for even a moment, Dean closed the spell book in his hands. Reaching down Dean grabbed ahold of the jeans and bolter cutters before slowly and purposefully rising to a standing position the damning evidence of the Grimoire and bolt cutters grasp in one hand while the muddy pair of Levi's were grasped in the other. The man had to fight, with a considerable amount of effort, not storm over to her, turn her over his knee and spank the living hell out of her defiant little backside right then and there. However, despite his nerve raving with justification, Dean restrained himself for one fundamental reason, and that was wanting to hear the girl's confession from her own lips. Although, from the diehard Hunter's perspective, there was no excuse good enough for a thirteen-year-old to have a freaking Grimoire in their procession, nevertheless Dean wanted an explanation and he wanted answers. While he was able to put things together on his own, there were some significant holes in the story she needed fill and God help her if she didn't.
With his shoulders tense and rigid and his vice grip constricting around the evidence in his fists, Dean treaded across the threshold of the large archway and into the kitchen section of the room, all the while keeping his hard eyes locked on the teenager's turned back.
Feeling the vibrations of the Hunter's boots gently tremoring against her soles and the approaching presence of the man coming up behind her, sending an urgency in her, Ellie quickly took one last swig of water before dumping the rest down the drain and placing the glass in the sink thinking Dean was going to tell her to hurry up and go to bed. However, as soon as Ellie turned around to face him that pleasant little theory of her's flew right out the window as she was pinned with a hard stoney scowl of, what Ellie could only describe, as scary as hell. Ellie nearly gasped as her red tinted lips parted, feeling like she had been kicked in the chest as all the air rushed from her lungs making the fibers in her muscles go intensely rigid with harsh trepidation leaving her feeling like a statue that had been frozen in shock.
The Hunter stood on the other side of the pale-yellow kitchen table, the hard lines in the man's intense expression were cast in shadow as the soft yellow glow of the pendent light over the table highlighted the man's scowling features in an unsettlingly manner. His condemning green eyes were glaring daggers into her and Ellie was certain if looks could kill, she probably be dead on the floor by now.
There was no mistake the Hunter was absolutely furious with her, but what was perhaps the most daunting factor in all this was Ellie could not remember one time the Hunter looked this enraged before. The only thing that came even remotely close was when she stole his car and ran away and that is really saying something considering he was 'beyond pissed', but this time seemed to unnervingly surpass that by a large margin as Ellie could practically feel the fierceness radiating through his intimidating expression, which was all being channeled in her direction, like a well aim barrel of a shotgun. However, it wasn't until Dean lifted his right arm and chucked her muddy pair of Levi jeans onto the table in front of her, that it slowly began to dawn on Ellie the severity of her situation.
Hearing the light thud of the denim fabric plopping against the pale-yellow vinyl table top, Ellie's wide eyes flicked down briefly to look at her jeans feeling her blood run cold with the realization that Dean had went through her bag and discovered everything she had been concealing. Ellie gulped down a wade of saliva as she felt her knees become weak with alarming dread knowing she was caught.
Never taking his intense eyes off the young girl, Dean reached across his rigid body and grabbed hold of his bolt cutters he had grasped in his palm with the spell book. The man extended his long arm forward, the muscles in his bare forearm flexing against his skin, as he carelessly chucked the sturdy cutting tool which was now crusted with mud, onto the table on top of her jeans causing a loud clang to echo through the space of hotel room making Ellie's limbs tense and flinch embarrassingly hard as her heart practically jumped out of her chest.
There was this excessively desperate, out of left field, childlike hope that he possibly had overlooked the Grimoire in her backpack. However, Ellie's crazy luck the past few days had finally run out and the girl did not have a chance in hell. The man extended his left arm forward and, with aimed purpose, he smacked the hefty spell book into the table in front of her leaving Ellie with not a single doubt in her mind that he found everything and she was, now, for lack of a better word, in the deepest shit of her young life.
Dean grabbed ahold of the back of the high back chair in front of him leaning forward slightly as he continued to stare a hole into the young girl's head, his amulet neckless swaying away from his neck. His jawline was rigid and distinct as his masculine features were darkened with a serious scowl that seemed to be cemented into his hard expression.
Feeling a weakness come upon her knees, Ellie felt her nerves tremble in terror expecting the man to explode at any moment and let her have it, but all he did was stare without saying word which Ellie was coming to find out was so much worse making her squirm and stew in this dreadful anticipation. Frantically contemplating whether she should speak or not, Ellie opened her mouth a couple times, but the words didn't seem to clog in her throat as she was shocked into silence. What could she possibly say?
Hearing the clanging commotion of items being dropped on the table, Sam moved to walk into the kitchen section of the room having a dreadfully bad feeling come over him. Taking in the scene before him, his eyes zeroing in on the evidence strewn on the pale-yellow table top, from the muddy bolt cutters to the Levi jeans, but what really caught his attention was the dark leather binding of a thick old book which lay in stark contrast to the pale-yellow tabletop.
Ellie's eyes caught sight of Sam's large frame entering the room making Ellie's heart nearly plummet as his eyes were directed towards the table seeing everything. Unable to bear it, Ellie shamefully cast her attention away feeling her body close in on itself protectively. However, it would seem Sam's presence didn't deter Dean's gaze in the slightest as he never spared the wayward girl the relief of his penetrating glower, not even for a second. Sam earnestly walked to Dean's right side before reaching his long arm across the table and grasping ahold of the Grimoire making Ellie's face grimace in dismay feeling a moan of chagrin wanting to travel up her throat.
Sam fanned the book open and flipped through the old pages and, like Dean, was able to discern in two seconds what it was. Feeling his heart shoot up into his throat, Sam snapped his attention to Ellie's closing frame, an astonished look of total outrage and disappointment washed over his face, absolutely God-smacked at what Ellie had in her possession. And judging by the other evidence on the table Sam, like his brother, had a pretty solid idea of what had transpired.
Letting her stew in the reality that she was beyond the point of no return for a few more moments, Dean finally decided to break the dreadful silence.
"I don't have to tell you how neck deep in shit you are, young lady, but you better have a damn good explanation for all this or, I promise you, this shitty night is about to get a hell of a shittier." Dean's guttural vocals cut straight through her in a dangerously calm tone that had her chest radiating with a swelling anxiety.
"Where the hell did you get that book?"
TBC
Oh boy. Well, they found out. Think Ellie's going to spill her guts? Clam up? Make a break for it? Lie?
Stay tuned for the next chapter.
Please review and let me know your thoughts, predictions, insight etc. I'd love to hear them.
Thank you for reading!