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phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: My Brother's Keeper, Part Nineteen(Part One Here, Part Two Here, Part Three Here, Part Four Here, Part Five Here, Part Six Here, Part Seven Here, Part Eight Here, Part Nine Here, Part Ten Here, Part Eleven Here, Part Twelve Here, Part Thirteen Here, Part Fourteen Here, Part Fifteen Here, Part Sixteen Here, Part Seventeen Here, Part Eighteen Here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 028 Deliver
Word Count: 2553
Summary: Complete AU. On the night the demon kills Mary Winchester, John saves Dean, but before he can go back for Sam, the fire spreads. It is assumed that Sam is dead along with his mother. In reality, he has been taken and is raised by a family dedicate to the demon who killed Mary. One night after a hunt, Dean runs into him in a bar in Palo Alto, never a clue who he really is.
Warnings: Overall-Incest, m/m sex, blood play, bondage, non-con, including memories of under-age rape. More stuff happens...just kidding...building toward a climax here. There's magic and demons and such...
This is my thirty-eight ficlet for my Supernatural claim on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100_situations. Clicky for table
Missouri wasn’t happy and Sam knew it. He could feel it. He shook his head and shoved the book and other bits of supplies onto the truck seat before climbing into the truck. “I can’t believe you don’t have asafoetida,” he mumbled.
“I don’t consort with demons, so why would I need it?”
Sam sighed and pulled the door closed. “Its protective, the stink covers nearly anything…never mind. You had sulfur. It will have to work.”
“Are you planning to fill me in on this little plan of yours?”
Sam nodded and started the truck. “There isn’t time to explain. The page is marked.” He pointed to the book and started them out of the driveway. She picked it up and opened it, a gasp escaping her as she got an inkling what he was planning.
“Can you do this?”
Sam glanced aside at her and made a face. “I honestly don’t know. I didn’t even know it existed until I saw it in…your memory.”
She put the book down and looked at him. “You were in my head?”
“You’ve been in mine since I got here.”
“That’s different.”
“No its not. It doesn’t matter. I’m not a pure vessel. I’ve sworn a blood oath to a demon.”
Missouri followed his line of thought and the glance to Dana asleep on her shoulder. “But Dana is.”
He nodded. “She is still just an infant.” Missouri said.
“Okay. So, what I have in mind isn’t exactly the cleanest of magic.”
“What does that mean?”
Sam turned them around a corner and they could see John leaning on the Impala waiting for them. “Let me explain it just once, okay?”
He threw the truck into park and climbed out, bringing the supplies with him. He glanced at the house, but it was quiet. John came to them, taking Dana from Missouri and cradling her to his chest. “You better have a really good reason for bringing my granddaughter into this, boy.” John said, his voice dark.
Sam nodded, taking the book from Missouri and opening it the necessary page. “I do, sir.” He set the book on the hood of the Impala and sighed. “It isn’t going to be easy.”
He looked up at the house again. “Has there been any…signs from inside?”
John’s jaw worked several times. “Screaming. Dean, screaming.”
Sam ducked his head and took a few deep breaths. “She’s already there then. They wouldn’t touch him without…instructions. Do we know how many?”
John shook his head. “I saw two. But there could be more.”
Sam breathed out heavily and nodded. “Okay, here’s where I lay it all on the line.” He turned to John, meeting his eyes. “She’s expecting me to walk in there with Dana. She’s expecting me to help her achieve what the other one couldn’t. She thinks she knows me, thinks that my blood is tied to her.”
He picked up a knife, the same knife he had used to cut Dean to seal his hex. “Thing is, my blood and your blood, Dean’s blood and Dana’s blood…that’s stronger. At least I hope it is.”
John looked from the book to Missouri, to Sam. “I know you have no reason to, but I need you to trust me, John.” Sam met his eyes. “Dad.”
Dean had stopped screaming. There really wasn’t a point anymore. The floor was cool against his cheek. He’d remembered what his father said about these things, that to stop them he had to submit. It had been easier than he imagined, just letting go and doing what he was told.
“See I knew you could be reasonable, Dean. So much more so than Sam. He’s so stubborn.”
He wanted to make a smart remark, to lash out…to fight back. Instead he lay still on the floor, listening as she walked around them. “Do you know how long it took him to figure out that if he just did as he was told, everything would be easier?”
She stopped in front of him, the toe of her shoe connecting with his chin and bringing his face up to look at him. Her eyes burned into him, like she could see everything inside him. “You think you can control this don’t you? You think that you can give in now, to the little things, and still fight back when it comes to the big ones. How terribly sweet.”
She moved away. “Your father is still out there, trying to figure out how to save you.” She laughed, a sound that seemed out of place in the strange silence of the house. “Maybe it would be fun to watch you kill him. Oh look, Sam’s here now too.”
Dean stirred at that, turning so he could see her figure against the window. “He’s brought the baby. How nice.”
Sam spared a glance over his shoulder at John and Missouri and adjusted the weight of Dana in his arms. She stared up at him, her eyes seeming much more aware than an infant should be. “You trust me, don’t you?” he whispered and he could feel her response, a brush of wordless emotion. “Yeah, okay. Here goes.”
He moved slowly, up the stairs and reached for the door. It swung open and he stepped inside. Dean was kneeling between two Harriers and She stood before him, turning to Sam as he approached.
“I was beginning to worry.” She said.
Sam’s eyes were on Dean has he responded. “Nothing to worry about. Just took some time.”
He stepped closer and the Harriers hauled Dean to his feet. “I can handle him from here.” Sam said. “Call them off.”
She smiled. “They’re here as much for you as for him, Sam.”
He flicked his gaze to her. “Call them off, or I walk out of here with the baby.”
She rolled her eyes, then nodded. The two demons backed off a few paces.
“Sam.” Dean’s eyes burned with rage as Sam looked back at him. Sam crossed the small space between them and grabbed his chin with his spare hand. He looked hard into Dean’s eyes then kissed him.
“Hold on.” Sam whispered before pulling away.
“Give the child to Dean.” She said, walking away to pick up a scroll from the top of a box.
Sam did as he was told, transferring Dana into Dean’s arms. She gurgled, her hand rising up to touch Dean’s bruised face. Sam exhaled slowly and willed Dean to trust him, just for a little while longer.
“I don’t like this John.” Missouri said, looking up at him.
He nodded, but didn’t respond right away. His eyes were tracking the movements in the living room window. He couldn’t see well enough to know what was going on inside. Truth was, he didn’t like it either. He didn’t know whether or not he could trust the boy, but he hadn’t seen any other way. “Can you still feel him?”
Missouri closed her eyes, nodding. “He’s nervous. Dean has the baby.”
“How is he?”
She twitched a little. “Sam’s concerned. Dean’s hurt.”
“How close?”
“She’s setting up for the ritual.”
John sighed and paced around the circle within which Missouri stood, fiddling with the gun in his hands. Far more than just simple salt, Sam’s concoction of salt and sulfur, cedar and motherwort formed a barrier that would protect her, even if John couldn’t. “I don’t like it either,” he said after a while.
Dean held Dana as close as he could, trying to ignore the pain radiating from his back and shoulders. Sam stood nearby, but Dean wasn’t sure he could trust him. At least he knew he couldn’t trust the Demon, or it’s lackeys. He shifted a little, nudging Sam’s arm. When Sam turned to look at him, Dean tried to pour all of his questions into his eyes, arching his eyebrows and pointing with his chin.
Sam’s eyes met his and held, and Dean thought he saw something…felt something. Dana made a sound and he looked down at her, thought he saw Sam in her eyes. Trust me.
The sound of chanting brought Dean’s attention back to their surroundings, watching as the Demon set about tracing a circle, swinging a smoking censer and reciting some language Dean didn’t understand. Dean tried to follow the movement, but found himself dizzy. Sam reached out to steady him, his hand on Dean’s back, connecting with open wounds and Dean hissed. “Steady.” Sam murmured.
Sam reached over with his free hand to toy with Dana’s blanket and Dean’s eyes naturally followed his movement. Keep hold of her, no matter what. I’ll handle the rest.
Dean shook his head, sure he was losing his mind. He looked up at Sam, but Sam was watching the Harriers. “Sam?”
Sam’s eyes flicked back at him. There was something of an apology in them before he spoke. “Quiet.” Dean nodded, the compulsion guaranteeing he wouldn’t speak again until Sam told him to. Sam exhaled and looked up to follow the progression of the ritual.
“She’s almost ready.” Missouri said.
John shifted his balance, checking the load of his gun for the hundredth time. “Are you sure he can do this?”
Missouri shook his head. “No.” Her face was grim, lips tight, eyes mostly closed. Her touch on Sam’s mind was tentative, lest it be seen and followed. John would be little protection against what might come at her if the thing inside figured out what was happening, and they both knew it. John picked up the book again, his eyes tracing the symbol he had carved into Sam’s hand.
“Now then, it seems we are ready.”
The pressure of Sam’s hand in the middle of his back brought Dean a few steps closer, into the center of the circle. Sam took Dean’s free hand and held it up, between them and the Demon. “I swore with blood to deliver blood, and thus I complete my vow.” He pulled the knife from his boot and deftly cut across Dean’s palm with the tip.
She held up a goblet and Sam turned Dean’s hand so that blood flowed into the cup. She grinned at him. “I accept the blood you offer as payment, your vow is complete.”
Sam nodded, clenching Dean’s hand over the wound.
The Demon held the cup up, chanting. Dean looked at Sam, then at Dana, his heart racing. “Stay still.” Sam said softly and Dean cursed him in his head.
Dana’s eyes took on a green hue, so much like Sam’s. Stay with me Dean.
She came forward again, the goblet stretched out as her eyes met Sam’s. “Take the knife Dean.” He pressed the knife into Dean’s injured hand, and Dean could feel his fingers close around the hilt.
Sam reached out to pull Dana’s left arm out of the blanket, holding her hand palm up over the cut. “Cut her hand Dean. It doesn’t have to be deep.”
Dean was panting with the exertion not to do it, to break the compulsion. He watched in horror as his hand moved over Sam’s, the knife point coming into contact with soft pink skin. Please Sam…please…
“It’s time.” Missouri’s eyes closed and John stood up straight, lifting the shotgun to the ready. All around them the world seemed to stand still, the wind stopped blowing and silence settled over them. John got the distinct impression they were not alone.
“They’ve come to see if she can pull it off.” Missouri said as John’s picked out dark spots and glowing eyes around them. The air seemed colder and dawn seemed far away.
“And if she does?”
“They’ll serve her.”
“And if she doesn’t”
“They’ll probably kill us. Now be quiet and let me concentrate.”
Dean wanted to plunge the knife into the Demon, into Sam, anything to stop this and get Dana to safety. Sam’s eyes were huge, begging him to trust him. Dean’s breath came in heavy gasps as Dana cried and struggled in his hand and Sam let her bleed into the cup.
As Sam closed her tiny hand over the cut, Dean’s eyes caught on his own hand, bloody, with far more blood that just his and Dana’s. He watched several thick drops fall into the cup before Sam was tucking Dana’s hand back inside the blanket.
The Demon raised the cup again, and chanted more. Suddenly Dean recognized the language, Sumerian…though how or why he wasn’t sure. He wanted to shake his head, wanted to run…but he was stuck, standing still because Sam had ordered him to.
“Here is where we see if you’ve learned your lessons in obedience, Dean.” She said. “I desire entrance into the world, a physical body in which to dwell undisturbed. Offer her to me.”
Dean bit down, looked to Sam. Sam raised a hand, cradling his face, turned him toward Dana. Hold her up, but say nothing. Dean wasn’t sure what he was hearing…or more accurately, sensing. It felt…strange, a voice in his head, only not. A presence, familiar, only not.
He found his arms lifting, cradling his crying daughter and holding her between the three of them. “Very good Dean.”
She passed a hand over Dana, smiling. “Such power…” Her finger dipped into the cup and came up, dripping blood from a long, fake fingernail. She traced a sigil on Dana’s forehead, chanting. Dean could feel power building in the room, his eyes locked on Dana’s, his heart thumping.
Sam, please…tell me you’re doing something. Dean thought, though he couldn’t look up at him.
Trust me.
Missouri stiffened. “John,” she gasped. “Now…it’s happening now.”
Her eyes opened, all opaque and white and her body shook as she started reciting the incantation Sam had given her. This was far beyond anything she’d ever attempted, a magic older than the new age mumbo jumbo she usually had to deal with. Her senses opened, Sam’s mind rushing in, Dana’s not far behind. She had to reach out for Dean’s, hidden behind Sam, behind the compulsion. He was angry and confused. She couldn’t blame him.
John paced around her, helpless.
Dean shook, fighting to pull Dana back, to hold her close and keep her safe. The Demon stepped back, her voice rising as wind whipped through the room and flames shot up around them. Her head tilted back, her mouth opening wider than seemed possible, and black, inky smoke spewed from her mouth as she screamed.
Dean’s breathing was heavy, harsh. The last of the Demon’s essence cleared its host body and she slumped to the floor. In one movement, Sam pulled open Dana’s blanket, exposing a strange sigil drawn on her stomach. “Hold her.” Sam yelled at him over the roaring wind as he brought his bloody hand down on her stomach.
Dana’s crying echoed the throbbing through Dean’s body as the black mass descended toward them and Sam pressed them down until Dean was kneeling on the floor. Sam’s free hand held the knife, lifting it above their heads as he yelled words Dean couldn’t understand.
His head was swimming, his body shuddering. The darkness beckoned, the cool black of unconsciousness…Hold on, Dean. Hold on. Dean wasn’t sure whose voice it was, but he clung to it, clawing his way up…if only to hold on to his daughter a little while longer.
Title: My Brother's Keeper, Part Nineteen(Part One Here, Part Two Here, Part Three Here, Part Four Here, Part Five Here, Part Six Here, Part Seven Here, Part Eight Here, Part Nine Here, Part Ten Here, Part Eleven Here, Part Twelve Here, Part Thirteen Here, Part Fourteen Here, Part Fifteen Here, Part Sixteen Here, Part Seventeen Here, Part Eighteen Here)
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Table: #1
Prompt: 028 Deliver
Word Count: 2553
Summary: Complete AU. On the night the demon kills Mary Winchester, John saves Dean, but before he can go back for Sam, the fire spreads. It is assumed that Sam is dead along with his mother. In reality, he has been taken and is raised by a family dedicate to the demon who killed Mary. One night after a hunt, Dean runs into him in a bar in Palo Alto, never a clue who he really is.
Warnings: Overall-Incest, m/m sex, blood play, bondage, non-con, including memories of under-age rape. More stuff happens...just kidding...building toward a climax here. There's magic and demons and such...
This is my thirty-eight ficlet for my Supernatural claim on
100_situations. Clicky for tableMissouri wasn’t happy and Sam knew it. He could feel it. He shook his head and shoved the book and other bits of supplies onto the truck seat before climbing into the truck. “I can’t believe you don’t have asafoetida,” he mumbled.
“I don’t consort with demons, so why would I need it?”
Sam sighed and pulled the door closed. “Its protective, the stink covers nearly anything…never mind. You had sulfur. It will have to work.”
“Are you planning to fill me in on this little plan of yours?”
Sam nodded and started the truck. “There isn’t time to explain. The page is marked.” He pointed to the book and started them out of the driveway. She picked it up and opened it, a gasp escaping her as she got an inkling what he was planning.
“Can you do this?”
Sam glanced aside at her and made a face. “I honestly don’t know. I didn’t even know it existed until I saw it in…your memory.”
She put the book down and looked at him. “You were in my head?”
“You’ve been in mine since I got here.”
“That’s different.”
“No its not. It doesn’t matter. I’m not a pure vessel. I’ve sworn a blood oath to a demon.”
Missouri followed his line of thought and the glance to Dana asleep on her shoulder. “But Dana is.”
He nodded. “She is still just an infant.” Missouri said.
“Okay. So, what I have in mind isn’t exactly the cleanest of magic.”
“What does that mean?”
Sam turned them around a corner and they could see John leaning on the Impala waiting for them. “Let me explain it just once, okay?”
He threw the truck into park and climbed out, bringing the supplies with him. He glanced at the house, but it was quiet. John came to them, taking Dana from Missouri and cradling her to his chest. “You better have a really good reason for bringing my granddaughter into this, boy.” John said, his voice dark.
Sam nodded, taking the book from Missouri and opening it the necessary page. “I do, sir.” He set the book on the hood of the Impala and sighed. “It isn’t going to be easy.”
He looked up at the house again. “Has there been any…signs from inside?”
John’s jaw worked several times. “Screaming. Dean, screaming.”
Sam ducked his head and took a few deep breaths. “She’s already there then. They wouldn’t touch him without…instructions. Do we know how many?”
John shook his head. “I saw two. But there could be more.”
Sam breathed out heavily and nodded. “Okay, here’s where I lay it all on the line.” He turned to John, meeting his eyes. “She’s expecting me to walk in there with Dana. She’s expecting me to help her achieve what the other one couldn’t. She thinks she knows me, thinks that my blood is tied to her.”
He picked up a knife, the same knife he had used to cut Dean to seal his hex. “Thing is, my blood and your blood, Dean’s blood and Dana’s blood…that’s stronger. At least I hope it is.”
John looked from the book to Missouri, to Sam. “I know you have no reason to, but I need you to trust me, John.” Sam met his eyes. “Dad.”
Dean had stopped screaming. There really wasn’t a point anymore. The floor was cool against his cheek. He’d remembered what his father said about these things, that to stop them he had to submit. It had been easier than he imagined, just letting go and doing what he was told.
“See I knew you could be reasonable, Dean. So much more so than Sam. He’s so stubborn.”
He wanted to make a smart remark, to lash out…to fight back. Instead he lay still on the floor, listening as she walked around them. “Do you know how long it took him to figure out that if he just did as he was told, everything would be easier?”
She stopped in front of him, the toe of her shoe connecting with his chin and bringing his face up to look at him. Her eyes burned into him, like she could see everything inside him. “You think you can control this don’t you? You think that you can give in now, to the little things, and still fight back when it comes to the big ones. How terribly sweet.”
She moved away. “Your father is still out there, trying to figure out how to save you.” She laughed, a sound that seemed out of place in the strange silence of the house. “Maybe it would be fun to watch you kill him. Oh look, Sam’s here now too.”
Dean stirred at that, turning so he could see her figure against the window. “He’s brought the baby. How nice.”
Sam spared a glance over his shoulder at John and Missouri and adjusted the weight of Dana in his arms. She stared up at him, her eyes seeming much more aware than an infant should be. “You trust me, don’t you?” he whispered and he could feel her response, a brush of wordless emotion. “Yeah, okay. Here goes.”
He moved slowly, up the stairs and reached for the door. It swung open and he stepped inside. Dean was kneeling between two Harriers and She stood before him, turning to Sam as he approached.
“I was beginning to worry.” She said.
Sam’s eyes were on Dean has he responded. “Nothing to worry about. Just took some time.”
He stepped closer and the Harriers hauled Dean to his feet. “I can handle him from here.” Sam said. “Call them off.”
She smiled. “They’re here as much for you as for him, Sam.”
He flicked his gaze to her. “Call them off, or I walk out of here with the baby.”
She rolled her eyes, then nodded. The two demons backed off a few paces.
“Sam.” Dean’s eyes burned with rage as Sam looked back at him. Sam crossed the small space between them and grabbed his chin with his spare hand. He looked hard into Dean’s eyes then kissed him.
“Hold on.” Sam whispered before pulling away.
“Give the child to Dean.” She said, walking away to pick up a scroll from the top of a box.
Sam did as he was told, transferring Dana into Dean’s arms. She gurgled, her hand rising up to touch Dean’s bruised face. Sam exhaled slowly and willed Dean to trust him, just for a little while longer.
“I don’t like this John.” Missouri said, looking up at him.
He nodded, but didn’t respond right away. His eyes were tracking the movements in the living room window. He couldn’t see well enough to know what was going on inside. Truth was, he didn’t like it either. He didn’t know whether or not he could trust the boy, but he hadn’t seen any other way. “Can you still feel him?”
Missouri closed her eyes, nodding. “He’s nervous. Dean has the baby.”
“How is he?”
She twitched a little. “Sam’s concerned. Dean’s hurt.”
“How close?”
“She’s setting up for the ritual.”
John sighed and paced around the circle within which Missouri stood, fiddling with the gun in his hands. Far more than just simple salt, Sam’s concoction of salt and sulfur, cedar and motherwort formed a barrier that would protect her, even if John couldn’t. “I don’t like it either,” he said after a while.
Dean held Dana as close as he could, trying to ignore the pain radiating from his back and shoulders. Sam stood nearby, but Dean wasn’t sure he could trust him. At least he knew he couldn’t trust the Demon, or it’s lackeys. He shifted a little, nudging Sam’s arm. When Sam turned to look at him, Dean tried to pour all of his questions into his eyes, arching his eyebrows and pointing with his chin.
Sam’s eyes met his and held, and Dean thought he saw something…felt something. Dana made a sound and he looked down at her, thought he saw Sam in her eyes. Trust me.
The sound of chanting brought Dean’s attention back to their surroundings, watching as the Demon set about tracing a circle, swinging a smoking censer and reciting some language Dean didn’t understand. Dean tried to follow the movement, but found himself dizzy. Sam reached out to steady him, his hand on Dean’s back, connecting with open wounds and Dean hissed. “Steady.” Sam murmured.
Sam reached over with his free hand to toy with Dana’s blanket and Dean’s eyes naturally followed his movement. Keep hold of her, no matter what. I’ll handle the rest.
Dean shook his head, sure he was losing his mind. He looked up at Sam, but Sam was watching the Harriers. “Sam?”
Sam’s eyes flicked back at him. There was something of an apology in them before he spoke. “Quiet.” Dean nodded, the compulsion guaranteeing he wouldn’t speak again until Sam told him to. Sam exhaled and looked up to follow the progression of the ritual.
“She’s almost ready.” Missouri said.
John shifted his balance, checking the load of his gun for the hundredth time. “Are you sure he can do this?”
Missouri shook his head. “No.” Her face was grim, lips tight, eyes mostly closed. Her touch on Sam’s mind was tentative, lest it be seen and followed. John would be little protection against what might come at her if the thing inside figured out what was happening, and they both knew it. John picked up the book again, his eyes tracing the symbol he had carved into Sam’s hand.
“Now then, it seems we are ready.”
The pressure of Sam’s hand in the middle of his back brought Dean a few steps closer, into the center of the circle. Sam took Dean’s free hand and held it up, between them and the Demon. “I swore with blood to deliver blood, and thus I complete my vow.” He pulled the knife from his boot and deftly cut across Dean’s palm with the tip.
She held up a goblet and Sam turned Dean’s hand so that blood flowed into the cup. She grinned at him. “I accept the blood you offer as payment, your vow is complete.”
Sam nodded, clenching Dean’s hand over the wound.
The Demon held the cup up, chanting. Dean looked at Sam, then at Dana, his heart racing. “Stay still.” Sam said softly and Dean cursed him in his head.
Dana’s eyes took on a green hue, so much like Sam’s. Stay with me Dean.
She came forward again, the goblet stretched out as her eyes met Sam’s. “Take the knife Dean.” He pressed the knife into Dean’s injured hand, and Dean could feel his fingers close around the hilt.
Sam reached out to pull Dana’s left arm out of the blanket, holding her hand palm up over the cut. “Cut her hand Dean. It doesn’t have to be deep.”
Dean was panting with the exertion not to do it, to break the compulsion. He watched in horror as his hand moved over Sam’s, the knife point coming into contact with soft pink skin. Please Sam…please…
“It’s time.” Missouri’s eyes closed and John stood up straight, lifting the shotgun to the ready. All around them the world seemed to stand still, the wind stopped blowing and silence settled over them. John got the distinct impression they were not alone.
“They’ve come to see if she can pull it off.” Missouri said as John’s picked out dark spots and glowing eyes around them. The air seemed colder and dawn seemed far away.
“And if she does?”
“They’ll serve her.”
“And if she doesn’t”
“They’ll probably kill us. Now be quiet and let me concentrate.”
Dean wanted to plunge the knife into the Demon, into Sam, anything to stop this and get Dana to safety. Sam’s eyes were huge, begging him to trust him. Dean’s breath came in heavy gasps as Dana cried and struggled in his hand and Sam let her bleed into the cup.
As Sam closed her tiny hand over the cut, Dean’s eyes caught on his own hand, bloody, with far more blood that just his and Dana’s. He watched several thick drops fall into the cup before Sam was tucking Dana’s hand back inside the blanket.
The Demon raised the cup again, and chanted more. Suddenly Dean recognized the language, Sumerian…though how or why he wasn’t sure. He wanted to shake his head, wanted to run…but he was stuck, standing still because Sam had ordered him to.
“Here is where we see if you’ve learned your lessons in obedience, Dean.” She said. “I desire entrance into the world, a physical body in which to dwell undisturbed. Offer her to me.”
Dean bit down, looked to Sam. Sam raised a hand, cradling his face, turned him toward Dana. Hold her up, but say nothing. Dean wasn’t sure what he was hearing…or more accurately, sensing. It felt…strange, a voice in his head, only not. A presence, familiar, only not.
He found his arms lifting, cradling his crying daughter and holding her between the three of them. “Very good Dean.”
She passed a hand over Dana, smiling. “Such power…” Her finger dipped into the cup and came up, dripping blood from a long, fake fingernail. She traced a sigil on Dana’s forehead, chanting. Dean could feel power building in the room, his eyes locked on Dana’s, his heart thumping.
Sam, please…tell me you’re doing something. Dean thought, though he couldn’t look up at him.
Trust me.
Missouri stiffened. “John,” she gasped. “Now…it’s happening now.”
Her eyes opened, all opaque and white and her body shook as she started reciting the incantation Sam had given her. This was far beyond anything she’d ever attempted, a magic older than the new age mumbo jumbo she usually had to deal with. Her senses opened, Sam’s mind rushing in, Dana’s not far behind. She had to reach out for Dean’s, hidden behind Sam, behind the compulsion. He was angry and confused. She couldn’t blame him.
John paced around her, helpless.
Dean shook, fighting to pull Dana back, to hold her close and keep her safe. The Demon stepped back, her voice rising as wind whipped through the room and flames shot up around them. Her head tilted back, her mouth opening wider than seemed possible, and black, inky smoke spewed from her mouth as she screamed.
Dean’s breathing was heavy, harsh. The last of the Demon’s essence cleared its host body and she slumped to the floor. In one movement, Sam pulled open Dana’s blanket, exposing a strange sigil drawn on her stomach. “Hold her.” Sam yelled at him over the roaring wind as he brought his bloody hand down on her stomach.
Dana’s crying echoed the throbbing through Dean’s body as the black mass descended toward them and Sam pressed them down until Dean was kneeling on the floor. Sam’s free hand held the knife, lifting it above their heads as he yelled words Dean couldn’t understand.
His head was swimming, his body shuddering. The darkness beckoned, the cool black of unconsciousness…Hold on, Dean. Hold on. Dean wasn’t sure whose voice it was, but he clung to it, clawing his way up…if only to hold on to his daughter a little while longer.
