Entry tags:
Captivus, Part I, Supernatural, PG-13, Keeper!Verse
Fandom: Supernatural, Keeper!Verse
Title: Captivus, Part I (Other Keeper!Verse stories can be found Here
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, Dana, John
Rating: Overall PG-13 (with a touch of R in places)
Word Count: 17, 972 (total)
Summary: For
shotofjack, who bought me in the Sweet Charity auction. She asked for Keeper Verse and a look at Dana actually growing up and working with Sam to rescue Dean. So, this is Dana at 16, half way to seventeen. A dream offers the Winchesters two hunts at once, though with John suffering with a broken arm, and Sam hurting from a life time of physical abuse, it's time for Dana to step up to the plate. When Dean's hunt goes terribly wrong, it's up to Dana and Sam to figure out why and rescue him, before it's too late.
A/Ns & Warnings: Unfortunately there is not sex here, though there is some nakedness. There is also a fair amount of schloomp and not a small amount of angst. This story is complete and will be posted in sections because LJ won't let me post it as one.
Sam pulled himself out of bed, muffling the groan of pain as he slipped his feet into slippers and shuffled out of the bedroom, leaving Dean asleep behind him. He wasn’t sleeping anymore and Dean needed to, so it was best to stop trying and leave the room.
In the bathroom he stopped to splash water over his face after relieving himself. Nights like this were getting more common. The aches of a lifetime weren’t placated as easily anymore. His right side, particularly the shoulder, ached most of the time, but on some nights the ache grew to pain. Pain that filled his dreams with nightmares, which in turn drove him from sleep to pace the hall or sit numbly in front of the television.
He gave brief thought to a bath, sometimes the heat was enough to ease the pain. The noise would wake Dean though, and that was all it took for Sam to decide against it. Instead, he moved slowly down the stairs and into the kitchen. It was three in the morning according to the clock on the microwave.
He could feel Dana, restless in her sleep, dreaming. He could only hope that wasn’t an echo of the dream that had chased him out of sleep. The girl had enough on her plate this week with finals.
Coffee started, Sam went to the living room where his piles of pillows still commanded one corner of the couch. He’d spent most of the day before cocooned in them. He settled into them, closing his eyes as he eased his pained body onto the couch and rearranged pillows to suit him. He was no sooner settled than Aristotle came padding in, yawning. She looked at him with tired eyes before curling up next to him on the floor.
He drifted a little, his mind wandering over the things he needed to get done. There was the book store, and the inventory of the new items brought in after the estate of Jeremiah Watkins. He anticipated an interesting collection from the old man.
He looked up as he heard the stairs creak and Dana smiled at him apologetically. “Sorry if I woke you,” she said.
Sam shook his head. “I could say the same.”
“Nightmares?”
Sam just nodded. They shared enough that she knew which nightmares would chase him out of bed.
“Me too. Not…not yours.” She was quick to add. “Visions.”
He sat up a little. “A hunt?”
She made a face that made her look like Dean. “Not sure. It’s all jumbled up. I was going to go for a run, see if I can straighten it out.”
“It’s three in the morning.” Sam said, knowing it wasn’t an argument that would actually stop her.
“I’ll be fine.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah I know. I had to say it though.”
She smiled and he could see something in her eyes. This one was bad. “Want to tell me, before you go?”
She bit her lip. Finally she shook her head. “When I come back.”
“Okay, maybe I’ll make breakfast.”
“You should rest. Want me to bring you your pills?”
Sam nodded. “Coffee?”
A few minutes later, she was setting a large mug on the coffee table beside him, along with a bottle of pills. He didn’t like taking them. Wouldn’t until he had no choice. She usually knew before he did when that time was coming. He watched her leave and settled in, cradling the coffee mug close to him. He was stubborn, despite the pain, and let the pills sit.
He hated this weakness, this failure of his body. He wasn’t even forty. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like in his old age. He snorted. Old age. Once upon a time he hadn’t expected to live past 30.
Once upon a time he had been meant as a sacrifice, he’d been meant to die. Then, he’d still had the glamour, the one that hid the pain as much as it did the physical marks. Sam let his eyes skim over his arm. He’d grown accustomed to them after years with Dean and Dana, both of whom seemed to prefer him as he was to the neat and pretty package that came with the glamour.
It was something he hadn’t understood at first, and sometimes he still wasn’t sure he understood. “Sam?”
He looked up unexpectedly to find Dean looking down at him. “Hey. You should be asleep.”
“So should you.”
“I wasn’t sleeping, and didn’t want to wake you.”
Dean started down the stairs. “When you’re in pain, I don’t sleep either.”
“Sorry, I should keep a better cap on it.”
Dean shook his head. “Not on your life.” He came to sit by Sam’s feet, his hand resting on his knee. “I like that I can share a little of it.”
Sam moved, shifting to ease the pain in his hip, hissing as his shoulder clenched. “Have you taken any?” Dean asked, gesturing to the pills. Sam shook his head. “Sammy, you know they’ll help, at least a little.”
“I don’t like how I feel when I take them, Dean.”
“Oh, but you like how you’re feeling now?”
Sam sighed as Dean opened the bottle and doled out two of the pills. “You should take it easy today. I’ll call the bookstore.”
Sam shook his head, taking the pills and chasing them with coffee. “No, I have to go in. I have the Watkins collection to catalogue.”
“Dude, you’re the manager. Let someone else do it.”
“Its my job, Dean.”
“I’ve been thinking about that Sam.”
“About what?”
“Maybe it’s time you…stopped…working.” Dean held up his hands before Sam could start his protest. “Hear me out. The garage is doing well. We don’t need the money. It’s just…I hate seeing you like this…and knowing you push yourself.”
Sam scowled. “I think you’d better get used to seeing me like this, Dean. It’s only going to get worse as I get older.”
“That’s my point, Sam. Why not enjoy what you’ve got. While you still can. Before I have to stick your sorry ass into a nursing home.”
Sam could feel the concern wafting off his brother despite the attempt at humor and nodded tightly. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
Dean nodded, satisfied. “Okay. I’m going to go take a shower.”
Dana ran. It helped her deal with the stuff in her head; it helped her sort out what was hers and what wasn’t. She had routes that varied depending on what she needed to work out. School and friend stuff sent her through downtown, around the public elementary school and back home the back way. Sam stuff took her out past the cemetery and around the park. Dreams and powers took her longer, past the cemetery and down to the Harrington’s horse farm.
She neared the fence, and Shadow, the Harrington’s prize stallion called out to her. He ran alongside the fence with her and she let his sheer joy at the run wash over her. This was why she came here. She let herself wallow in it, pure animal instinct and happiness. She stopped thinking, stopped analyzing…and usually that was when it all started to make sense.
“See ya Shadow.” She called as she left the fence and he whinnied after her.
She had thought at first that the dream was so bad because it was mixed up with Sam’s, but that was only part of the truth. This was one of those dreams of things to come…of things that needed hunting. She’d had them for as long as she could remember, but few of them were bad like this. She could tell though that the similarities between it and some of Sam’s past had played on her memories and guilt and…and there were two. Two hunts.
Two hunts and Papa down with a broken arm….and Sam…Sam was hurting. It wasn’t good.
She was only half surprised to find Sam and her father at the kitchen table when she came in. “Let me shower.” She bolted up the stairs and into the bathroom. Her shower was quick, just enough to slick the sweat from her body. She was anxious to tell them, to convince her father it was time.
She pulled on her bathrobe and headed downstairs where her father was putting breakfast on the table. “So…dream?” Her father settled into his chair as Sam set a cup of coffee in front of her, prepared just the way she liked it.
“Yeah…it was…confusing. There’s two hunts. One looks pretty routine. Haunting, teenage girl, local high school. She died at the prom, I think.” She sipped at her coffee. “The other…is…more complicated. I don’t think…not a haunting…more like demon…or a couple of them.” She rubbed at her head. “They seem to be focused on a boy…14 or so. Tormenting him.” Her eyes slipped up to Sam’s, but he was concentrating on his plate, the wall between them fairly solid. She looked to her father instead.
She wanted him to see what she saw, without Sam between them…but she knew better. It was one of the unspoken rules of their family. The link between Sam and her father was sacred, and she didn’t interfere.
“Are they close?” her father asked and she had to shake her head to clear it.
“No. Ghost is about four hours drive north of here. Demons are about 6 hours south.” She lifted a forkful of eggs to her mouth. She had to time this carefully. Let them think about the logistics. Sam had no business on the demon hunt. Too many memories, too much pain. He had no business digging graves either.
She looked up at her father again, and when his eyes met hers she saw that he understood what she hadn’t said, that he knew what she wanted. “Can you show me the haunting?” Dean asked, and they both looked at Sam. She immediately felt the wall thin from his side, and dropped it on hers to match. His left arm snaked across the table and lay there waiting for her, even as his right hand slid into Dean’s.
Dana was careful to filter only the images of the ghost, beautiful, tragic. They passed through Sam and into her father. After she was done, she withdrew, though she left her hand in Sam’s. It only took a moment for Dean to nod. “You want this?” His eyes were bright and fierce when they met hers again and she nodded. “You ready?”
“I think so.”
Sam squinted at her and then at Dean. She could tell the connection between them was still open. It was frustrating. She knew they were talking…and she couldn’t access the conversation. It gave her some sympathy for all the years she and Sam had done that to him.
After a long silence, Sam sat back, his hand falling out of Dean’s and tucking under the table. “Yeah, okay.” Sam murmured.
“Okay what?” Dana asked.
“You and Sam are going to go take care of the haunting.” Dean held up a hand to stop the argument he saw brewing. “It’s your hunt, Dana. Sam’s just there for back up. You do the work.”
She backed off with a nod. She could do that. And it would keep Sam from going with her father. “I’ll see if Dad’s up to backing me up with some research.” Dean lifted his coffee cup. “Though if I tell him our girl’s going out on her first hunt, he may insist on following you two with his camera.”
Dana smiled, but she could tell Sam wasn’t happy. “We’ll leave after school today,” he said as he stood. “I’m going to go get ready for work.”
When he was gone up the stairs, with Aristotle bounding after him, Dean turned to his daughter. “You don’t let him do anything physical, you hear me?”
Dana nodded. “He’s hurting. I know. I’d rather he stayed home.”
“I’m not sending you out on your first hunt alone.” Dean pushed his eggs around his plate.
“It’s not like I’ve never faced the things that go bump in the night—“
“I’m not arguing the point Dana. You obviously don’t want him with me, and he won’t stay home. He goes with you.”
She nodded, accepting his logic. “So, the demons. I think there’s two, but I can’t be sure. What I got was pretty jumbled up with other stuff…memory and the haunting.”
“Show me.”
She put down her fork and looked at him. “What?”
“Before Sam comes back downstairs. I know you can.”
“But…I—Dad, are you sure?”
He nodded. “Yeah, Dana, I need to know.” He put his hand out on the table and she reached for it tentatively.
“I…I’ll try to be gentle.” Truth was, she didn’t have a lot of experience with this, the only people she was allowed this contact with were Sam and Missouri…and that had gotten comfortable from years of practice. She exhaled slowly and reached for him, surprised at the strong presence that surged almost immediately across to her.
Dana started with easier things, pictures of the three of them, of Aristotle, working slowly up to the scenes of the haunting he’d already seen and then finally the ones of the demons, and the way they were abusing the boy. When she’d played them through for him twice, she watched in amazement as he tucked them behind a wall. A wall even she would have trouble getting around without hurting him.
Dean smiled for her, though he looked a little sea sick. “Thank you.”
She nodded and took a sip of her coffee. “You okay?”
He nodded. “I see why you don’t want Sam involved.”
“Is it enough? Can you find him?”
“Yeah. I think so.” He ate some of his eggs, then looked up. “The question is, what do they want with him? I mean, why him?”
“Maybe he’s gifted, like Uncle Sam.”
“I guess I’ll find out when I meet him, won’t I?” He smiled, but she could tell he was concerned. And he should be. From what she saw, it was a bad situation. “Finish your breakfast.”
When Sam came back downstairs he’d hidden his pain a little better and he stopped to kiss the top of her head. “You ready for your test?”
She nodded. “Of course. It’s the two next week that are giving me fits.”
“Trig and physics?”
She nodded and flipped her book closed. “Beth’s been trying to help…but you know sometimes it just doesn’t stick.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine. Want a ride?”
“You two heading out?” Dean called from the stairs.
“Sam offered me a ride.” Dana said.
“I probably won’t be here when you get back. I’m going in to the garage, touch base with Dad, and then I’m heading out.”
“Wait, he’s not going with you?” Sam asked.
Dean shook his head. “He…no. He’s not. His arm is still pretty bad.”
Dana ripped a page out of her notebook. “I jotted down as many details as I could. There’ll probably be more…another vision. I’ll call if I get more.”
Dean pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead. “You be careful, and listen to your Uncle.”
She smiled and nodded. “I will, Dad. Promise.”
“And you, mister…you take care of our little girl.” Sam smiled briefly before Dean kissed him. “I’ll be home no later than Tuesday…or I’ll call if it’s going to take longer.”
“Dean, I don’t like you going alone. Not against two demons.”
“I’ll be fine, Sam. I’ve been doing this for a long time.”
“Its better not to argue when he’s got that tone, Uncle Sammy. Come on.”
Truth was, Dana didn’t like it either. Not with what she saw. And something was nagging at her. She couldn’t place it though. And by the time Sam had dropped her at school, she had more pressing matters, namely her history final.
It was four hours of agony. Absolute agony. The test wasn’t a problem, she’d been prepared for it, and history came easily. The waiting though, was tough. Waiting and not letting on to her friends that something was up. She shouted goodbyes though when she felt Sam pull up, and fairly skipped to the car.
“Ready?”
“Shouldn’t we go home and pack?”
Sam pointed in the back seat. “Already did. Two days of clothes, and a basic kit. We’ll stop for lunch on our way out of town.”
“So, this is it?” Dana forced herself to exhale slowly and pull her nerves into calmness.
“This is it.”
Dean leaned against the impala and tried not to let himself worry. “You need to keep your head on your hunt, not Dana’s,” his father said, as he dropped a large book onto the passenger seat of the car.
“I know.”
“You sent Sam with her. She’s more prepared for this than you were.”
“Is she?” Dean shook his head. “Maybe I’ve been wrong trying to shelter her all these years.”
“Then this will be good for her. Give her a taste of what the real world is like.”
“Real world.” Dean shook his head. “You’ll keep an eye out?”
John nodded. “Yeah, I’ll check up on Aristotle, get her out for a run or two.”
“Sam and Dana should be home by Sunday. You call me if they aren’t.”
“And you?”
Dean shrugged. “I’ll know more when I get there.”
“Call if you decide you need me.”
“I will.”
“And be careful.”
Dean nodded and stood up, opening his door. “See you in a few days.”
He pulled away from the garage and headed south, toward Texas. The book beside him was one of the ones Sam had brought them, a compendium of demons, with all manner of disgusting tidbits of information regarding the various sorts of them and their mating habits, feeding preferences and rituals for summoning and banishing them.
It was more Sam’s thing and Dad’s thing, than Dean’s…but he didn’t know much about what he was facing. It had proven useful in the past, and since Dean was going into this without backup, he figured he needed all the help he could get.
Sam had to admit, for Dana’s first hunt, they couldn’t have picked a better one. Just as she had predicted, it was a pretty standard haunting. A young woman died the night of her senior prom thirty years before. Every year, she made an appearance at the prom and picked out a boy who reminded her of her killer and she drove him off a cliff.
The prom was Saturday night. Dana found the grave, dug it up, salted and burned the bones and reburied the remains. He’d have told her how proud he was, if she wasn’t so damn proud of herself. They were in the local hang out pizza parlor celebrating with buffalo wings and pizza when several of the kids came in, joking about how they knew all the stories about Janice Martine were bunk. Dana beamed and Sam threw balled up napkins at her.
He saw her stiffen, saw the color drain from her face and reached for her, but she drew back, the wall between them slamming closed with a nearly physical force. “Dana?”
“Call Dad…no, don’t….you’ll distract him.” She drew a shaky breath. “He’s…I think he’s in trouble.”
“Now, or in the future?”
She shook her head, her eyes closed. “Don’t know, can’t tell.” He reached for her hand.
“Show me.”
“No.” She tried to pull away, but Sam held her wrist.
“I can help you.”
“No. It’s…We need to go. We need to go now.”
“Even if we leave right now, Dana, he’s a good ten hour drive away, at least. Tell me what you’re seeing.”
Her eyes opened, focusing on his. “We…didn’t want to upset you, Sam. We didn’t want you to know.”
“They’re abusing him…like I was abused.”
She shook her head again. “Not exactly the same, no. But….it’s close enough.”
“And now they have your father.”
“No…he’s hurt though…they’re…they’re hunting him…turned it around.” She looked down at his hand around her wrist. “You can let go now, and we need to get out of here. He’s gonna need us.”
“I promised him I wouldn’t let you go down there.” Sam said, feeling a little defeated. He hadn’t liked any of this, right from the start. “We swing by home first, check in with your Papa. See if your father’s called.”
“He’d call us.”
Sam smiled. “No, sweetie, he wouldn’t. He doesn’t want you down there anymore than you want me down there. Those things may have never happened to you, but you have the memories. They can affect you just like they do me.”
She chewed on her lip. “Okay. Home first, but only to check with Papa. Then we go find him.”
Dean tumbled down a hill he hadn’t seen coming in the dark, cursing as his ankle slammed into a rock. He wasn’t sure how this whole thing had turned around so quickly, but suddenly he’d found himself running from his intended prey.
He pulled himself onto his feet. It was almost like they knew he was coming. And the look on the boy’s face. He shivered just thinking about it. He was turned around, had no landmarks, no idea where the Impala was parked…he only knew the guy with the black eyes was still behind him. Probably herding him toward the woman with black eyes.
He’d walked into it. Spent a few hours scoping out the town, trying to get the lay of the land. He spotted the kid coming out of the drugstore, followed him while trying to not look like a total pervert following a kid.
He thinks he was still following the kid when they got to the woods, but shortly after that he was aware he was being followed. Then there was the Latin and the conjuring and the man and the woman, with the kid cowering between them…and then came the cursing and the running.
Followed by the falling and tumbling. Which brought him right back to lost and now hurt. Maybe Sam had been right. Maybe coming out here alone wasn’t such a good idea.
He didn’t have time to worry about Sam and Dana as he felt something bite into him and looked down to see a tranquilizer dart sticking out of his stomach. “Shit.” He looked up at the woman’s triumphant smile as he sank to his knees and then he was falling forward onto his face in the dirt.
“Dana, it’s two in the morning. You are not calling him.”
“Sam, something’s really wrong.” Dana was really afraid. The visions kept coming, even as Sam drove them home. Visions that had her on edge. Visions that had her doubting what she’d seen in the first place.
“I know Dana, but we can’t go running in there. We need to figure out what we’re dealing with.”
Dana pushed her way into the house, shaking her head. “Dad’s in trouble. I was wrong Sam. I was wrong. Dad’s in trouble because I was wrong.”
Sam’s hand on her shoulder stopped her, turned her to face him. “It’s time to stop protecting me Dana and tell me.”
“I…think…maybe…I was set up. The kid….the kid has…powers. I keep seeing Dad falling, shot…only not. And the demons…they’re…the kid is…he’s like you…he was given to them after his parents were killed.” She shook her head and rubbed her hands over her face. “It’s not clear, still. Like…like he’s blocking me or something.”
“Is that even possible?” Sam asked, setting down their duffle.
She shrugged. “I think the original vision was a trap. I think maybe he piggy-backed the other vision….that’s why it was all jumbled. I think they wanted a psychic…but they seem perfectly happy with a hunter.”
“Wanted…for what?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, Sam. It isn’t good though. Not good at all.”
Sam took a deep breath. “Okay, you go upstairs, take a shower, try to get some sleep. I’ll see if I can get anything.”
“I can’t sleep.” Dana said, despite the yawn at the mere suggestion of sleep.
“I’m not letting you out of this house without any.” Sam responded.
She sagged, too tired really to argue. “Okay. But you should too. It’s a long drive.”
“Let me worry about me. Go on.”
Sam watched her go, waited until she was out of sight behind the bathroom door and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Dean’s number for the twentieth time since they left the pizza parlor and it rolled over to voice mail immediately. “Shit.”
He looked at the clock and chewed on the inside of his cheek. Despite telling Dana she wasn’t calling his father at this hour, Sam decided he had no choice. John’s voice was groggy, gruff when he answered. “Dad…it’s Sam. We’ve got a problem.”
“Dana?”
“No. Dean. Dana says he’s in trouble. Have you heard from him?”
“Not since he left. Where are you?”
“We just got home. Dana’s been having visions, thinks maybe the whole demon hunt was a set up.”
“I’m on my way.”
Sam nodded. “Thanks.”
An hour later, Dana was asleep…or pretending better than Sam thought she was capable of, though she was fitful, tossing and turning. Aristotle lay across the end of her bed, watching her warily. He heard the door open below him and closed her door. John looked up as Sam came to the head of the stairs.
“Hey.” Sam came down the stairs as John deposited a pile of books on the coffee table beside others Sam had already been perusing.
“I sent the compendium with Dean. But remembered I still had these.”
“Good. I pulled out some I thought might be helpful.” He pulled the leather journal out from under his arm, “And I’d just gone upstairs for this.”
John frowned at him. “I haven’t seen that since Dana was a toddler.”
Sam nodded. “I know. I didn’t think I’d ever need it again. But…” He dropped it beside the others. “I’ve got coffee on, you want some?”
“Yeah, that would be good.” John peeled his coat off and dropped it on the chair. He followed Sam into the kitchen. “So, how’d she do?”
Sam smirked. “She did great. Did her research, found the grave. Dug, salted, burned, reburied, all in about 8 hours.”
John smiled, proud Papa incarnate as Sam handed him a cup of coffee. “Good for her.”
“Yeah, as long as it doesn’t go to her head.”
John clapped him on the shoulder and Sam did his best not to wince. “Let’s see if we can find these demons.”
“Okay, so Dana showed me a little and I’ve picked up some more on my own. I’ve ruled out entire orders of demons, narrowed down our search.” Sam settled onto the couch, automatically, pulling a couple pillows in around him.
“You okay, Sam?”
Sam blinked as he looked up, then realized what John meant. “Yeah…just…long drive, you know?” He hefted a book and looked away, hoping his father would just drop it. “So, we’re only looking at demons that can possess humans, and particularly those who do so long term. From what I saw, these…people don’t just offer the demons occasional use.”
John made a face as he took a seat beside Sam. “That’s pretty hardcore.”
“Yeah…well, it takes all kinds…and they wouldn’t be the first. It probably also means the kid is pretty gifted.”
“So, what about this kid?”
Sam reached for his journal. “He’s fourteen or so…which means, there’s no chance I helped…place him, but if these are long term hosts, they may have had another before him.”
“Thus the journal.”
“Thus the journal.” Sam confirmed, flipping it open. “Though, to be honest, I’m not sure I’ll find anything.”
It was quiet as they worked through the gathered reference material, until Sam felt the rumblings of a nightmare from upstairs. It was a bad one, and she was reaching out for him even in her sleep. “Dana.” Sam squeezed the word out, pushing John to go to her as Sam dropped the wall between them and she grabbed him, the images flowing through both of them.
Garmont, Texas. Donald and Angelica Marks. Their son, Paul. Dean. Angry, tied up, hurting.
Sam felt when John entered the room, felt Dana let go of the dream and glom onto John. Sam held it a little longer, felt Dean turn to him, felt Dean recognize his touch. Hold on, Dean. We’re coming.
He sagged as he let go of it, falling against the pillows even as Dana and John came down the stairs. “He’s okay, Dana.” Sam said and she sniffed back tears even as she nodded.
“I know. But…not for long. They’re gonna hurt him.”
“Yes. They are.” Dana came to him, curling up on the couch, rubbing at her head. “But, I think this tells us something.”
“Yeah?” John asked, rubbing his right hand along the cast still holding his left arm.
“Yeah, but we’re going to need the compendium. We’re looking at a class of demon I haven’t dealt with much. They’re bottom feeders…they…they’re flesh eaters…though I’m not sure what kind.”
“Flesh eaters?” John asked, frowning down at him.
Sam just nodded, his arm sliding around Dana. “The way they’ve got him tied up…it’s for bleeding him.” He said it softly, but Dana tensed under his arm. “We’ll find him, honey, I promise.”
“It’s my fault, Sam. I sent him down there. I was so worried about you…I didn’t…If anything happens…”
“We’ll find him, Dana.” Sam said again, a little more forcefully, though he was convincing himself as much as he was Dana. He looked up at John. “We’ll need the Davers text, the brown one there. Maybe the Michaels too.”
John nodded. “I’ll pull together a kit. Anything special you need?”
Sam nodded. “Basic demon fighting. Holy water, blessed iron rounds. A standard exorcism should work…In my room upstairs, in the trunk, there’s a set of tools, rolled in leather. I’m going to want them.”
“Do I want to know?”
Sam shook his head. “Probably not. And a med kit. We’re gonna need a good med kit. Pain relievers, anti-biotics, bandages.” Dana curled closer into him and he tightened his hold on her. It’s going to be okay.
She didn’t respond, other than to pull even further behind the wall. Sam figured that was better for now. Give her some space to deal with her fear. Give him time to work a little magic of his own, get a little mobility.
Part Two
Title: Captivus, Part I (Other Keeper!Verse stories can be found Here
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, Dana, John
Rating: Overall PG-13 (with a touch of R in places)
Word Count: 17, 972 (total)
Summary: For
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A/Ns & Warnings: Unfortunately there is not sex here, though there is some nakedness. There is also a fair amount of schloomp and not a small amount of angst. This story is complete and will be posted in sections because LJ won't let me post it as one.
Sam pulled himself out of bed, muffling the groan of pain as he slipped his feet into slippers and shuffled out of the bedroom, leaving Dean asleep behind him. He wasn’t sleeping anymore and Dean needed to, so it was best to stop trying and leave the room.
In the bathroom he stopped to splash water over his face after relieving himself. Nights like this were getting more common. The aches of a lifetime weren’t placated as easily anymore. His right side, particularly the shoulder, ached most of the time, but on some nights the ache grew to pain. Pain that filled his dreams with nightmares, which in turn drove him from sleep to pace the hall or sit numbly in front of the television.
He gave brief thought to a bath, sometimes the heat was enough to ease the pain. The noise would wake Dean though, and that was all it took for Sam to decide against it. Instead, he moved slowly down the stairs and into the kitchen. It was three in the morning according to the clock on the microwave.
He could feel Dana, restless in her sleep, dreaming. He could only hope that wasn’t an echo of the dream that had chased him out of sleep. The girl had enough on her plate this week with finals.
Coffee started, Sam went to the living room where his piles of pillows still commanded one corner of the couch. He’d spent most of the day before cocooned in them. He settled into them, closing his eyes as he eased his pained body onto the couch and rearranged pillows to suit him. He was no sooner settled than Aristotle came padding in, yawning. She looked at him with tired eyes before curling up next to him on the floor.
He drifted a little, his mind wandering over the things he needed to get done. There was the book store, and the inventory of the new items brought in after the estate of Jeremiah Watkins. He anticipated an interesting collection from the old man.
He looked up as he heard the stairs creak and Dana smiled at him apologetically. “Sorry if I woke you,” she said.
Sam shook his head. “I could say the same.”
“Nightmares?”
Sam just nodded. They shared enough that she knew which nightmares would chase him out of bed.
“Me too. Not…not yours.” She was quick to add. “Visions.”
He sat up a little. “A hunt?”
She made a face that made her look like Dean. “Not sure. It’s all jumbled up. I was going to go for a run, see if I can straighten it out.”
“It’s three in the morning.” Sam said, knowing it wasn’t an argument that would actually stop her.
“I’ll be fine.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah I know. I had to say it though.”
She smiled and he could see something in her eyes. This one was bad. “Want to tell me, before you go?”
She bit her lip. Finally she shook her head. “When I come back.”
“Okay, maybe I’ll make breakfast.”
“You should rest. Want me to bring you your pills?”
Sam nodded. “Coffee?”
A few minutes later, she was setting a large mug on the coffee table beside him, along with a bottle of pills. He didn’t like taking them. Wouldn’t until he had no choice. She usually knew before he did when that time was coming. He watched her leave and settled in, cradling the coffee mug close to him. He was stubborn, despite the pain, and let the pills sit.
He hated this weakness, this failure of his body. He wasn’t even forty. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like in his old age. He snorted. Old age. Once upon a time he hadn’t expected to live past 30.
Once upon a time he had been meant as a sacrifice, he’d been meant to die. Then, he’d still had the glamour, the one that hid the pain as much as it did the physical marks. Sam let his eyes skim over his arm. He’d grown accustomed to them after years with Dean and Dana, both of whom seemed to prefer him as he was to the neat and pretty package that came with the glamour.
It was something he hadn’t understood at first, and sometimes he still wasn’t sure he understood. “Sam?”
He looked up unexpectedly to find Dean looking down at him. “Hey. You should be asleep.”
“So should you.”
“I wasn’t sleeping, and didn’t want to wake you.”
Dean started down the stairs. “When you’re in pain, I don’t sleep either.”
“Sorry, I should keep a better cap on it.”
Dean shook his head. “Not on your life.” He came to sit by Sam’s feet, his hand resting on his knee. “I like that I can share a little of it.”
Sam moved, shifting to ease the pain in his hip, hissing as his shoulder clenched. “Have you taken any?” Dean asked, gesturing to the pills. Sam shook his head. “Sammy, you know they’ll help, at least a little.”
“I don’t like how I feel when I take them, Dean.”
“Oh, but you like how you’re feeling now?”
Sam sighed as Dean opened the bottle and doled out two of the pills. “You should take it easy today. I’ll call the bookstore.”
Sam shook his head, taking the pills and chasing them with coffee. “No, I have to go in. I have the Watkins collection to catalogue.”
“Dude, you’re the manager. Let someone else do it.”
“Its my job, Dean.”
“I’ve been thinking about that Sam.”
“About what?”
“Maybe it’s time you…stopped…working.” Dean held up his hands before Sam could start his protest. “Hear me out. The garage is doing well. We don’t need the money. It’s just…I hate seeing you like this…and knowing you push yourself.”
Sam scowled. “I think you’d better get used to seeing me like this, Dean. It’s only going to get worse as I get older.”
“That’s my point, Sam. Why not enjoy what you’ve got. While you still can. Before I have to stick your sorry ass into a nursing home.”
Sam could feel the concern wafting off his brother despite the attempt at humor and nodded tightly. “I’ll think about it, okay?”
Dean nodded, satisfied. “Okay. I’m going to go take a shower.”
Dana ran. It helped her deal with the stuff in her head; it helped her sort out what was hers and what wasn’t. She had routes that varied depending on what she needed to work out. School and friend stuff sent her through downtown, around the public elementary school and back home the back way. Sam stuff took her out past the cemetery and around the park. Dreams and powers took her longer, past the cemetery and down to the Harrington’s horse farm.
She neared the fence, and Shadow, the Harrington’s prize stallion called out to her. He ran alongside the fence with her and she let his sheer joy at the run wash over her. This was why she came here. She let herself wallow in it, pure animal instinct and happiness. She stopped thinking, stopped analyzing…and usually that was when it all started to make sense.
“See ya Shadow.” She called as she left the fence and he whinnied after her.
She had thought at first that the dream was so bad because it was mixed up with Sam’s, but that was only part of the truth. This was one of those dreams of things to come…of things that needed hunting. She’d had them for as long as she could remember, but few of them were bad like this. She could tell though that the similarities between it and some of Sam’s past had played on her memories and guilt and…and there were two. Two hunts.
Two hunts and Papa down with a broken arm….and Sam…Sam was hurting. It wasn’t good.
She was only half surprised to find Sam and her father at the kitchen table when she came in. “Let me shower.” She bolted up the stairs and into the bathroom. Her shower was quick, just enough to slick the sweat from her body. She was anxious to tell them, to convince her father it was time.
She pulled on her bathrobe and headed downstairs where her father was putting breakfast on the table. “So…dream?” Her father settled into his chair as Sam set a cup of coffee in front of her, prepared just the way she liked it.
“Yeah…it was…confusing. There’s two hunts. One looks pretty routine. Haunting, teenage girl, local high school. She died at the prom, I think.” She sipped at her coffee. “The other…is…more complicated. I don’t think…not a haunting…more like demon…or a couple of them.” She rubbed at her head. “They seem to be focused on a boy…14 or so. Tormenting him.” Her eyes slipped up to Sam’s, but he was concentrating on his plate, the wall between them fairly solid. She looked to her father instead.
She wanted him to see what she saw, without Sam between them…but she knew better. It was one of the unspoken rules of their family. The link between Sam and her father was sacred, and she didn’t interfere.
“Are they close?” her father asked and she had to shake her head to clear it.
“No. Ghost is about four hours drive north of here. Demons are about 6 hours south.” She lifted a forkful of eggs to her mouth. She had to time this carefully. Let them think about the logistics. Sam had no business on the demon hunt. Too many memories, too much pain. He had no business digging graves either.
She looked up at her father again, and when his eyes met hers she saw that he understood what she hadn’t said, that he knew what she wanted. “Can you show me the haunting?” Dean asked, and they both looked at Sam. She immediately felt the wall thin from his side, and dropped it on hers to match. His left arm snaked across the table and lay there waiting for her, even as his right hand slid into Dean’s.
Dana was careful to filter only the images of the ghost, beautiful, tragic. They passed through Sam and into her father. After she was done, she withdrew, though she left her hand in Sam’s. It only took a moment for Dean to nod. “You want this?” His eyes were bright and fierce when they met hers again and she nodded. “You ready?”
“I think so.”
Sam squinted at her and then at Dean. She could tell the connection between them was still open. It was frustrating. She knew they were talking…and she couldn’t access the conversation. It gave her some sympathy for all the years she and Sam had done that to him.
After a long silence, Sam sat back, his hand falling out of Dean’s and tucking under the table. “Yeah, okay.” Sam murmured.
“Okay what?” Dana asked.
“You and Sam are going to go take care of the haunting.” Dean held up a hand to stop the argument he saw brewing. “It’s your hunt, Dana. Sam’s just there for back up. You do the work.”
She backed off with a nod. She could do that. And it would keep Sam from going with her father. “I’ll see if Dad’s up to backing me up with some research.” Dean lifted his coffee cup. “Though if I tell him our girl’s going out on her first hunt, he may insist on following you two with his camera.”
Dana smiled, but she could tell Sam wasn’t happy. “We’ll leave after school today,” he said as he stood. “I’m going to go get ready for work.”
When he was gone up the stairs, with Aristotle bounding after him, Dean turned to his daughter. “You don’t let him do anything physical, you hear me?”
Dana nodded. “He’s hurting. I know. I’d rather he stayed home.”
“I’m not sending you out on your first hunt alone.” Dean pushed his eggs around his plate.
“It’s not like I’ve never faced the things that go bump in the night—“
“I’m not arguing the point Dana. You obviously don’t want him with me, and he won’t stay home. He goes with you.”
She nodded, accepting his logic. “So, the demons. I think there’s two, but I can’t be sure. What I got was pretty jumbled up with other stuff…memory and the haunting.”
“Show me.”
She put down her fork and looked at him. “What?”
“Before Sam comes back downstairs. I know you can.”
“But…I—Dad, are you sure?”
He nodded. “Yeah, Dana, I need to know.” He put his hand out on the table and she reached for it tentatively.
“I…I’ll try to be gentle.” Truth was, she didn’t have a lot of experience with this, the only people she was allowed this contact with were Sam and Missouri…and that had gotten comfortable from years of practice. She exhaled slowly and reached for him, surprised at the strong presence that surged almost immediately across to her.
Dana started with easier things, pictures of the three of them, of Aristotle, working slowly up to the scenes of the haunting he’d already seen and then finally the ones of the demons, and the way they were abusing the boy. When she’d played them through for him twice, she watched in amazement as he tucked them behind a wall. A wall even she would have trouble getting around without hurting him.
Dean smiled for her, though he looked a little sea sick. “Thank you.”
She nodded and took a sip of her coffee. “You okay?”
He nodded. “I see why you don’t want Sam involved.”
“Is it enough? Can you find him?”
“Yeah. I think so.” He ate some of his eggs, then looked up. “The question is, what do they want with him? I mean, why him?”
“Maybe he’s gifted, like Uncle Sam.”
“I guess I’ll find out when I meet him, won’t I?” He smiled, but she could tell he was concerned. And he should be. From what she saw, it was a bad situation. “Finish your breakfast.”
When Sam came back downstairs he’d hidden his pain a little better and he stopped to kiss the top of her head. “You ready for your test?”
She nodded. “Of course. It’s the two next week that are giving me fits.”
“Trig and physics?”
She nodded and flipped her book closed. “Beth’s been trying to help…but you know sometimes it just doesn’t stick.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine. Want a ride?”
“You two heading out?” Dean called from the stairs.
“Sam offered me a ride.” Dana said.
“I probably won’t be here when you get back. I’m going in to the garage, touch base with Dad, and then I’m heading out.”
“Wait, he’s not going with you?” Sam asked.
Dean shook his head. “He…no. He’s not. His arm is still pretty bad.”
Dana ripped a page out of her notebook. “I jotted down as many details as I could. There’ll probably be more…another vision. I’ll call if I get more.”
Dean pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead. “You be careful, and listen to your Uncle.”
She smiled and nodded. “I will, Dad. Promise.”
“And you, mister…you take care of our little girl.” Sam smiled briefly before Dean kissed him. “I’ll be home no later than Tuesday…or I’ll call if it’s going to take longer.”
“Dean, I don’t like you going alone. Not against two demons.”
“I’ll be fine, Sam. I’ve been doing this for a long time.”
“Its better not to argue when he’s got that tone, Uncle Sammy. Come on.”
Truth was, Dana didn’t like it either. Not with what she saw. And something was nagging at her. She couldn’t place it though. And by the time Sam had dropped her at school, she had more pressing matters, namely her history final.
It was four hours of agony. Absolute agony. The test wasn’t a problem, she’d been prepared for it, and history came easily. The waiting though, was tough. Waiting and not letting on to her friends that something was up. She shouted goodbyes though when she felt Sam pull up, and fairly skipped to the car.
“Ready?”
“Shouldn’t we go home and pack?”
Sam pointed in the back seat. “Already did. Two days of clothes, and a basic kit. We’ll stop for lunch on our way out of town.”
“So, this is it?” Dana forced herself to exhale slowly and pull her nerves into calmness.
“This is it.”
Dean leaned against the impala and tried not to let himself worry. “You need to keep your head on your hunt, not Dana’s,” his father said, as he dropped a large book onto the passenger seat of the car.
“I know.”
“You sent Sam with her. She’s more prepared for this than you were.”
“Is she?” Dean shook his head. “Maybe I’ve been wrong trying to shelter her all these years.”
“Then this will be good for her. Give her a taste of what the real world is like.”
“Real world.” Dean shook his head. “You’ll keep an eye out?”
John nodded. “Yeah, I’ll check up on Aristotle, get her out for a run or two.”
“Sam and Dana should be home by Sunday. You call me if they aren’t.”
“And you?”
Dean shrugged. “I’ll know more when I get there.”
“Call if you decide you need me.”
“I will.”
“And be careful.”
Dean nodded and stood up, opening his door. “See you in a few days.”
He pulled away from the garage and headed south, toward Texas. The book beside him was one of the ones Sam had brought them, a compendium of demons, with all manner of disgusting tidbits of information regarding the various sorts of them and their mating habits, feeding preferences and rituals for summoning and banishing them.
It was more Sam’s thing and Dad’s thing, than Dean’s…but he didn’t know much about what he was facing. It had proven useful in the past, and since Dean was going into this without backup, he figured he needed all the help he could get.
Sam had to admit, for Dana’s first hunt, they couldn’t have picked a better one. Just as she had predicted, it was a pretty standard haunting. A young woman died the night of her senior prom thirty years before. Every year, she made an appearance at the prom and picked out a boy who reminded her of her killer and she drove him off a cliff.
The prom was Saturday night. Dana found the grave, dug it up, salted and burned the bones and reburied the remains. He’d have told her how proud he was, if she wasn’t so damn proud of herself. They were in the local hang out pizza parlor celebrating with buffalo wings and pizza when several of the kids came in, joking about how they knew all the stories about Janice Martine were bunk. Dana beamed and Sam threw balled up napkins at her.
He saw her stiffen, saw the color drain from her face and reached for her, but she drew back, the wall between them slamming closed with a nearly physical force. “Dana?”
“Call Dad…no, don’t….you’ll distract him.” She drew a shaky breath. “He’s…I think he’s in trouble.”
“Now, or in the future?”
She shook her head, her eyes closed. “Don’t know, can’t tell.” He reached for her hand.
“Show me.”
“No.” She tried to pull away, but Sam held her wrist.
“I can help you.”
“No. It’s…We need to go. We need to go now.”
“Even if we leave right now, Dana, he’s a good ten hour drive away, at least. Tell me what you’re seeing.”
Her eyes opened, focusing on his. “We…didn’t want to upset you, Sam. We didn’t want you to know.”
“They’re abusing him…like I was abused.”
She shook her head again. “Not exactly the same, no. But….it’s close enough.”
“And now they have your father.”
“No…he’s hurt though…they’re…they’re hunting him…turned it around.” She looked down at his hand around her wrist. “You can let go now, and we need to get out of here. He’s gonna need us.”
“I promised him I wouldn’t let you go down there.” Sam said, feeling a little defeated. He hadn’t liked any of this, right from the start. “We swing by home first, check in with your Papa. See if your father’s called.”
“He’d call us.”
Sam smiled. “No, sweetie, he wouldn’t. He doesn’t want you down there anymore than you want me down there. Those things may have never happened to you, but you have the memories. They can affect you just like they do me.”
She chewed on her lip. “Okay. Home first, but only to check with Papa. Then we go find him.”
Dean tumbled down a hill he hadn’t seen coming in the dark, cursing as his ankle slammed into a rock. He wasn’t sure how this whole thing had turned around so quickly, but suddenly he’d found himself running from his intended prey.
He pulled himself onto his feet. It was almost like they knew he was coming. And the look on the boy’s face. He shivered just thinking about it. He was turned around, had no landmarks, no idea where the Impala was parked…he only knew the guy with the black eyes was still behind him. Probably herding him toward the woman with black eyes.
He’d walked into it. Spent a few hours scoping out the town, trying to get the lay of the land. He spotted the kid coming out of the drugstore, followed him while trying to not look like a total pervert following a kid.
He thinks he was still following the kid when they got to the woods, but shortly after that he was aware he was being followed. Then there was the Latin and the conjuring and the man and the woman, with the kid cowering between them…and then came the cursing and the running.
Followed by the falling and tumbling. Which brought him right back to lost and now hurt. Maybe Sam had been right. Maybe coming out here alone wasn’t such a good idea.
He didn’t have time to worry about Sam and Dana as he felt something bite into him and looked down to see a tranquilizer dart sticking out of his stomach. “Shit.” He looked up at the woman’s triumphant smile as he sank to his knees and then he was falling forward onto his face in the dirt.
“Dana, it’s two in the morning. You are not calling him.”
“Sam, something’s really wrong.” Dana was really afraid. The visions kept coming, even as Sam drove them home. Visions that had her on edge. Visions that had her doubting what she’d seen in the first place.
“I know Dana, but we can’t go running in there. We need to figure out what we’re dealing with.”
Dana pushed her way into the house, shaking her head. “Dad’s in trouble. I was wrong Sam. I was wrong. Dad’s in trouble because I was wrong.”
Sam’s hand on her shoulder stopped her, turned her to face him. “It’s time to stop protecting me Dana and tell me.”
“I…think…maybe…I was set up. The kid….the kid has…powers. I keep seeing Dad falling, shot…only not. And the demons…they’re…the kid is…he’s like you…he was given to them after his parents were killed.” She shook her head and rubbed her hands over her face. “It’s not clear, still. Like…like he’s blocking me or something.”
“Is that even possible?” Sam asked, setting down their duffle.
She shrugged. “I think the original vision was a trap. I think maybe he piggy-backed the other vision….that’s why it was all jumbled. I think they wanted a psychic…but they seem perfectly happy with a hunter.”
“Wanted…for what?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know, Sam. It isn’t good though. Not good at all.”
Sam took a deep breath. “Okay, you go upstairs, take a shower, try to get some sleep. I’ll see if I can get anything.”
“I can’t sleep.” Dana said, despite the yawn at the mere suggestion of sleep.
“I’m not letting you out of this house without any.” Sam responded.
She sagged, too tired really to argue. “Okay. But you should too. It’s a long drive.”
“Let me worry about me. Go on.”
Sam watched her go, waited until she was out of sight behind the bathroom door and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Dean’s number for the twentieth time since they left the pizza parlor and it rolled over to voice mail immediately. “Shit.”
He looked at the clock and chewed on the inside of his cheek. Despite telling Dana she wasn’t calling his father at this hour, Sam decided he had no choice. John’s voice was groggy, gruff when he answered. “Dad…it’s Sam. We’ve got a problem.”
“Dana?”
“No. Dean. Dana says he’s in trouble. Have you heard from him?”
“Not since he left. Where are you?”
“We just got home. Dana’s been having visions, thinks maybe the whole demon hunt was a set up.”
“I’m on my way.”
Sam nodded. “Thanks.”
An hour later, Dana was asleep…or pretending better than Sam thought she was capable of, though she was fitful, tossing and turning. Aristotle lay across the end of her bed, watching her warily. He heard the door open below him and closed her door. John looked up as Sam came to the head of the stairs.
“Hey.” Sam came down the stairs as John deposited a pile of books on the coffee table beside others Sam had already been perusing.
“I sent the compendium with Dean. But remembered I still had these.”
“Good. I pulled out some I thought might be helpful.” He pulled the leather journal out from under his arm, “And I’d just gone upstairs for this.”
John frowned at him. “I haven’t seen that since Dana was a toddler.”
Sam nodded. “I know. I didn’t think I’d ever need it again. But…” He dropped it beside the others. “I’ve got coffee on, you want some?”
“Yeah, that would be good.” John peeled his coat off and dropped it on the chair. He followed Sam into the kitchen. “So, how’d she do?”
Sam smirked. “She did great. Did her research, found the grave. Dug, salted, burned, reburied, all in about 8 hours.”
John smiled, proud Papa incarnate as Sam handed him a cup of coffee. “Good for her.”
“Yeah, as long as it doesn’t go to her head.”
John clapped him on the shoulder and Sam did his best not to wince. “Let’s see if we can find these demons.”
“Okay, so Dana showed me a little and I’ve picked up some more on my own. I’ve ruled out entire orders of demons, narrowed down our search.” Sam settled onto the couch, automatically, pulling a couple pillows in around him.
“You okay, Sam?”
Sam blinked as he looked up, then realized what John meant. “Yeah…just…long drive, you know?” He hefted a book and looked away, hoping his father would just drop it. “So, we’re only looking at demons that can possess humans, and particularly those who do so long term. From what I saw, these…people don’t just offer the demons occasional use.”
John made a face as he took a seat beside Sam. “That’s pretty hardcore.”
“Yeah…well, it takes all kinds…and they wouldn’t be the first. It probably also means the kid is pretty gifted.”
“So, what about this kid?”
Sam reached for his journal. “He’s fourteen or so…which means, there’s no chance I helped…place him, but if these are long term hosts, they may have had another before him.”
“Thus the journal.”
“Thus the journal.” Sam confirmed, flipping it open. “Though, to be honest, I’m not sure I’ll find anything.”
It was quiet as they worked through the gathered reference material, until Sam felt the rumblings of a nightmare from upstairs. It was a bad one, and she was reaching out for him even in her sleep. “Dana.” Sam squeezed the word out, pushing John to go to her as Sam dropped the wall between them and she grabbed him, the images flowing through both of them.
Garmont, Texas. Donald and Angelica Marks. Their son, Paul. Dean. Angry, tied up, hurting.
Sam felt when John entered the room, felt Dana let go of the dream and glom onto John. Sam held it a little longer, felt Dean turn to him, felt Dean recognize his touch. Hold on, Dean. We’re coming.
He sagged as he let go of it, falling against the pillows even as Dana and John came down the stairs. “He’s okay, Dana.” Sam said and she sniffed back tears even as she nodded.
“I know. But…not for long. They’re gonna hurt him.”
“Yes. They are.” Dana came to him, curling up on the couch, rubbing at her head. “But, I think this tells us something.”
“Yeah?” John asked, rubbing his right hand along the cast still holding his left arm.
“Yeah, but we’re going to need the compendium. We’re looking at a class of demon I haven’t dealt with much. They’re bottom feeders…they…they’re flesh eaters…though I’m not sure what kind.”
“Flesh eaters?” John asked, frowning down at him.
Sam just nodded, his arm sliding around Dana. “The way they’ve got him tied up…it’s for bleeding him.” He said it softly, but Dana tensed under his arm. “We’ll find him, honey, I promise.”
“It’s my fault, Sam. I sent him down there. I was so worried about you…I didn’t…If anything happens…”
“We’ll find him, Dana.” Sam said again, a little more forcefully, though he was convincing himself as much as he was Dana. He looked up at John. “We’ll need the Davers text, the brown one there. Maybe the Michaels too.”
John nodded. “I’ll pull together a kit. Anything special you need?”
Sam nodded. “Basic demon fighting. Holy water, blessed iron rounds. A standard exorcism should work…In my room upstairs, in the trunk, there’s a set of tools, rolled in leather. I’m going to want them.”
“Do I want to know?”
Sam shook his head. “Probably not. And a med kit. We’re gonna need a good med kit. Pain relievers, anti-biotics, bandages.” Dana curled closer into him and he tightened his hold on her. It’s going to be okay.
She didn’t respond, other than to pull even further behind the wall. Sam figured that was better for now. Give her some space to deal with her fear. Give him time to work a little magic of his own, get a little mobility.
Part Two