Ages, Dean 24.2, Supernatural, R-ish
Mar. 7th, 2007 09:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: Ages, Dean 24.2 (Click for 12, Click for 13, Click for 14, Click for 15, Click for 16, Click for 17, Click for 18, Click here for Sam 14, Click for 19, Click for 20, Click for Sam 16, Click here for 21, Click for Sam 17, Click for 22, Click here for Sam 18, Click here for 23, Click here for Sam 19, Click here for 23.5, Click here for 23.8.9, Click here for John, 49, Click here for 24, Click here for Sam, 19.8, Click here for John, 50, Click here for Dean, 24.1, Click here for Sam, 19.9)
Characters/Pairing: Sam, Dean, John, OFCs (overall story includes Sam/Dean, Dean/John and Dean/OFC)
Rating: R (thematic reasons)
Word Count: 4277
Summary: AU - Dean's POV. Self Sacrifice, a gathering of evil...Sam and Dean begin to make sense of what is happening to them and around them, and the battle commences.
A/Ns & Warnings: Overall this is story is very dark stuff. This particular installment continues that trend. There is blood and gore and darkness
He was twenty four years old when he lost his son into hell…when his gifts burst out of dormancy and shattered the air…when he woke to voices in his head that weren’t his own…when he held his wife’s hand while she died.
Twenty four.
He was twenty four years old when he embraced his destiny.
Jenny and John were gone, off to gather an army and supplies and hole up on the only other ground sacred enough to protect them until Dean was ready. As if he could be ready. He turned to Sam. “I need you to trust me.”
“I do, Dean.” Sam was watching him closely and Dean was only barely holding on to the power that had been flowing through him since Kaitlyn…since she’d kissed him and left him…since she’d pointed out the obvious.
“Something happened to me…something…I’m different.” He wasn’t sure he could explain…wasn’t sure he wouldn’t kill everyone if he couldn’t. He only knew what he’d seen…what he had to show Sam…what they had to become to survive this.
“I know.” Sam said, stepping a little closer.
“I can…see more, and hear things…and right now I’m only controlling it when you’re with me…and sometimes not then.” It was more than that…it had started when he woke up…when he’d woken up after losing Daniel…after letting the rage and fear burn away all of the walls…and it had just gotten…stronger.
Dean paced away. “It feels…kinda like going crazy…like waking up from a black out and knowing you did something, but not knowing what. I—we—can end this Sam. I know we can. We were meant to. This is why we have these gifts. This is why…why us. But…we have to figure it out…or I’m going to kill everyone.”
Sam shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t Dean. You—“
He turned fast and grabbed Sam by the arms. “I nearly killed you and Dad. I—I hurt Kaitlyn. She might have survived if I hadn’t—“ He shook his head. Power was pouring off him and the furniture started to move around them.
Sam’s hands rose to touch the sides of Dean’s face. “It’s okay Dean…we’ll figure it out…you and me. Just like always.” Dean drew him in, the flow of power moving over and through Sam as the furniture rattled and danced.
Show me…let me help you…show me everything.
Dean took his brother’s hands, created a circle of space where they stood. All around them the furniture danced as he let the excess energy rage. He didn’t know how he knew this, he just did. He opened himself up and welcomed Sam inside…inside where he could hide nothing. He felt Sam gasp at the intensity of it, but didn’t let go.
There was memory…pain…loss…shared and imagined, all his hiding…all the blame and fear and the faces over the years; Cassie and Kaitlyn, George and Janet, others Sam scarcely recognized…Dr. MacAfferty and Tony Pagliani, Father Andrews…There were fights between them and there was the fucking between them…sometimes it was both.
Everything Dean had ever been, every memory…all the way back to the night his father had put Sam’s tiny body in his arms and told him to take him outside…the night he saw his mother…the night the demon first saw him…them…the first time Dean ever saw it.
”You shouldn’t be here. You are banished.
“Dean?” Sam gasped and Dean tightened his grip.
“Stay with me Sam.”
“It…it was in her…in Mom.”
“I know.”
The fire came, the fire burned away at the thing inside her and the demon looked at him…at them…Dean saw him over his father’s shoulder…yellow eyes and a form of flame, and Dean ran, holding Sam as tight as his little arms allowed.
Dean was tiring. Tiring fast. He let go of Sam’s hands and stumbled backward. The furniture stopped moving and Dean collapsed on the couch.
“Dean?”
He dragged a hand over his face. “She did this to us Sam…she made us like this…or that thing inside her did.”
“What was it?”
Dean covered his eyes, trying to will his insides to stop shaking. “It…I don’t know.”
Sam came to kneel in front of him, grounding him with hands on his knees, with a soft closeness that was soothing. “Was it an angel like Reuel?”
“Maybe. Fuck!” Dean sat up suddenly and Sam jumped back. “You should warn a person.”
“Dean?”
Dean looked at Sam funny. “After all that, you don’t see him?”
“Who?”
“The angel in question.” Dean gestured at the spot where Reuel stood, sans his host.
“No? You see Reuel, without Jenny?”
Dean nodded. “Told you, seeing things.” Dean looked up expectantly.
“His name was Javal. He was neither demon nor angel…and he was both.”
“That makes no sense.” Dean said, sitting back. Sam frowned at him, and Dean reached for his hand. “Maybe I can…” He reached out for Sam mentally as well, shifting the room so Sam could see.
“Oh.” Sam surveyed the room. “Is this how you always see things?”
“It is since I woke up.” Dean replied. “Reuel here says the thing inside Mom was neither demon nor angel and he was both.”
“You were right, that makes no sense.”
Reuel smiled. “Javal was among those who you call demons for millennia. Then he repented, and was banished from hell. Yet he was not pure enough to join our ranks, thus he was condemned to walk between.”
“So what was he doing in our mother?” Sam asked.
“Presumably creating you.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s comforting.” Dean said.
“This serves no purpose, Dean. The battle comes.”
“Back off Big Bird.” Dean said. “I’ve been pushed around and manipulated long enough. We’re doing this my way.”
“So where is he now?” Sam asked.
“No one knows. No one has seen him since before Dean was born.”
“Yeah, well…he had a plan.” Dean said. “He put it in here.” He tapped his head. “Along with the other gifts.”
“I told you before Dean, no angel nor demon has the power to give those gifts, they are a part of you.”
Dean smiled, but there was no joy in it. “I know what you told me Reuel. I’m telling you, he was very specific about this. He chose Mom and he chose Dad very carefully. I don’t know how I know…I just do.” He took a deep breath. “That exorcism, Dr. MacAfferty? He put that in here.” Again he tapped his temple. “There’s more. And I have to figure it out. I have to find my way in.”
“He didn’t expect me.” Sam said suddenly. “He was deliberate about you. He was planning to raise you to be his warrior, to take on those who crossed the line.”
Dean looked at him, frowning, but the information fit with what his head was telling him. “And two of us in one place is what drew the demon…the one that killed Mom.”
“What about the other one?” Sam asked.
“He killed Cassie…I drew him when I pulled the paralim out of their house. I didn’t kill it, just sent it away…it probably bargained with the demon for something, told him about me.”
That was what the whole thing was about. One of them knew what they were and wanted them…wanted to corrupt them and manipulate them, turn them. The other knew what they were and what that meant they were capable of, and just wanted them out of the game. And the war between the two over it would destroy the city.
“That’s why they told us the gifts weren’t ours, weren’t meant for us.” Sam said breathlessly…and Dean nodded…because it suddenly made sense.
You took gifts that weren’t yours to take. You swallowed down everything he gave you, even though it will kill you…
Dean had always assumed it had meant Sam…that he had taken some birthright that had been supposed to be his brothers…but instead he was talking about this Javal. “He found a way.” Dean murmured. “He…wanted it to redeem him…”
He shook his head as the vague approaching pain distracted him. Sam’s hand closed over his and the vision shifted into focus. Daniel.
Dean cussed and reached for it, embracing the pain and all to see his son. He lay in his blanket, dirty and angry, his tiny face red with his tears. “Breathe.” Sam murmured and Dean dragged in a shaky breath. Daniel turned his eyes as though he could see Dean and his tiny hand shoved into his mouth.
Hold on, little man. Daddy’s going to come for you.
“Time grows short.” Reuel said as Dean opened his eyes and focused on the room again.
“I realize that. Tomorrow at noon, this street will run red with blood.” Dean looked up. “Sam and I will stand between them…and do what it is Javal made us to do. Then I will march into hell and retrieve my son.”
Dean spent the next hours working at understanding and controlling his gifts, stopping only when he and Sam were both dripping with sweat and he had destroyed nearly every stick of furniture in the living room. They crawled up the stairs and Dean pulled Sam into bed. “Sleep Sammy…sleep.”
He dreamed of his son, of the demon who held his son…of his father in the basement of the church. It wasn’t quite dawn when he sat upright in the bed. No. He pulled himself free of Sam and moved around the room, trying to shake the feeling. No. His father wouldn’t…couldn’t…Sam sat up. “Dad.”
Fuck. “Sam?”
“Dad…he…he…traded…”
Dean was nodding, even as he lifted his hand and brought his cell phone to him without thought. It rang as it settled into his hand. “Jenny.”
“It’s okay, Jenny…we know.” Dean said. Their father was gone. In his place Daniel had been returned. “Fucking fuck.”
Sam pulled him into his arms, rubbing a hand over his back. “We have to get to the church.” Dean said.
“Won’t be easy. Streets are full of military.”
“I know. I’ll get us there. We need a bag for Daniel.”
It felt like months had passed, not a week as Dean took his son in his arms. “He…left a note.” Jenny said, handing it to Sam.
“I owe you this much. I wasn’t much of a father…maybe this will let you be the father I never was. I love you boys more than you can ever know.”
“He summoned the damn thing?” Sam said, and she nodded.
“In the basement.”
Dean shook his head. He never wanted…any of this….and yet, here they were. “I need to get things rolling. Jenny, could you get him changed and fed? We brought half the nursery.”
She nodded, taking the baby back. Dean looked around him, around them. Hunters and priests, angels, and things he wasn’t’ sure had names filled the sanctuary. He moved to the front of the room. “Can I have your attention? My name is Dean Winchester. I’m the one responsible for calling all of you here. By now you all know that there is something very wrong in this city. There are more demons walking in human skin today than there has been ever before. They are here for one reason. To kill. The more of them we send packing back to hell, the fewer people will die.”
He closed his eyes and tried to push away the images of streets running with rivers of blood. “The thing is, they aren’t the main event. They’re only paving the way. There are two demons set to do battle today. The sky will blacken and the roads run red. When enough blood has been shed, they will rise. Corporeal and ready for a fight. Your goal is to prevent that.”
“How are we supposed to do that?” someone asked and Dean nodded.
“By any means necessary. The priest will keep blessing water sources. Those who can speak Latin or Sumerian will do exorcisms. Bring them back here if you can, do them out there if you have to and send the survivors here. Anything and everything to get as many of them out of the streets as you can. Kill them only as a last resort.”
“What makes you think you’re in charge?” someone else asked and Dean flinched. He didn’t want to be in charge.
Dean closed his eyes, reached behind him, forcing the angel that was there to become visible. “I can do this. Can you?”
He let go of the startled creature and took a shaky breath. “Save lives, save as many as you can.”
“I can’t do this, Sam.” Dean whispered into his brother’s shoulder. They were as alone as they could be considering everything…in the church basement, staring at the symbol their father had chalked on the floor. “I…everything is just…wrong….and I don’t think I can…”
Sam’s arms tightened around him. “You can…you’re stronger than you realize, Dean.”
“How could he do it? Why? We need him…god, Sam we’ve always needed him…and he’s never there…never…”
Sam’s lips brushed his cheek. “He was there, Dean….we just couldn’t see him. He was there. We’ll get him back.”
“Don’t mean to interrupt.” It was Jenny’s voice, but with Reuel in it.
Dean sighed and looked up. “No…it’s okay.”
“You should come upstairs. It’s starting.”
Dean took Sam’s hand. Stay with me.
Sam squeezed. Not going anywhere.
The sanctuary was full of people, the smell of blood was sharp on the air. Someone Dean vaguely recognized approached. “It’s ugly out there. They’re everywhere. The army isn’t even keeping up.”
Dean nodded. This was it. He turned to Jenny/Reuel. “You protect this place, these people.”
“You know I’m not—“
“I don’t care what you’re allowed to do or how involved you want to be. I’m not asking. You’ve fucked with me enough. All of you. I lost my wife, I’ve lost my father, my childhood. My fucking sanity. You are staying here. You are protecting my son and the rest of these people. The rules have all changed.”
He tugged on Sam’s hand, pulling him toward the doors. They stepped out and Dean staggered a little under the onslaught. The church seemed to exist in something of a bubble, and where the church property ended, chaos reigned.
The street was crawling with men in military uniform, though they seemed to be fighting each other as much as they were trying to control the crowds. “Do you know where we’re going?” Sam asked as they started down the stairs.
Dean shook his head, but didn’t speak. He was concentrating on keeping them invisible and slipping them past the fighting. All around them guns beat against the air and somewhere in the area there was an explosion.
They were moving toward downtown, and the further they went the worse the destruction already was. Buildings were burning. Bodies littered the ground.
The pavement was sticky with blood and gore. It was worse than the vision of it Dean had had after the withdrawal. The stench was overwhelming. “I’m gonna be sick,” he murmured, letting go of Sam to grab a nearby wall as he leaned over to empty his stomach.
He wasn’t ready for this. He couldn’t handle this. He needed….focus. He needed to focus. His hand went to the stitched up wound in his thigh, pressing inward, breathing through it as the pain rose, sharp and quick, He let the rest fade away, everything but the momentary pain.
“Dean?”
Sam’s eyes were wide, and more than a little of what he saw in them was fear. “I’m okay…Sammy. I’m good.”
He was so far from good, and he knew Sam knew it, but Sam nodded, his hand on Dean’s back.
“Well…isn’t this touching?”
Dean whirled around, bringing Sam with him and unconsciously pushing Sam behind him. “I thought we had an agreement, Dean. Now look at you.”
Gold-yellow eyes tracked their movements. Gold-yellow eyes in the face of a man in a police uniform. Those eyes ticked up to Sam’s. “Hello Samuel. It’s nice to see you again.”
“We’re going to send you back to hell, you fucking bastard.” Dean growled when he finally found his voice.
“You could try, Dean.” The thing nodded, a concerned look on it’s stolen face. “You’ll be a little busy though…think you can concentrate on me while my children are making way for me to shed this skin?”
They came then, out of buildings, alleys, cars…swarms of them, with black-smoke eyes and blank faces. They came toward Sam and Dean, but rather than attacking them, they turned on one another.
“No!” Dean yelled as two within arms reach slit each others throats. “Fucking bastard. Sam!” He reached with hand and mind, drawing Sam close. The words flowed into his mind and out of Sam’s mouth. Latin words, crafted a millennia ago. Several of the closest ones opened their mouths, black ink pouring out of them.
Dean took them a few steps closer. A few more of them were released. Then a few more. The demon was laughing. “At this rate, Dean, you and your brother will be dead before you get half way through them.”
He was right, of course. Dean was tiring. Rapidly tiring. And as he tired, his tenuous hold was fraying. Already cars and store windows were rattling.
“You should have kept your end of our bargain, Dean. Before this day is over I will feast on your brother’s flesh while you sit at my knee and watch.”
“Don’t listen to him, Dean. He’s a lying sack of shit.”
Dean turned. Green-gold eyes in the face of a woman. She walked closer. “Of course, so am I…so maybe you shouldn’t listen to me either.
“You killed Cassie.”
She smiled. “I did…though you didn’t exactly react the way I wanted.”
“It’s a Winchester thing.” Sam said, stepping in closer.
“Ah, yes Sammy. My mistake was trying to get to Dean through the women in his life. I can be a little slow on the uptake. Had I realized it was you, things might have been much different.”
Suddenly Dean could see them, the way they had played his life. The green-eyed one had sent minions after Jenny and Janet, used Tony…goading him into using his gifts while the other had constantly tried to convince him to repress them.
“Dean.” Sam’s voice was soft, but urgent. He looked up…and around. People were screaming, dying…black eyed cops mowed down entire clusters of people with machetes and machine guns. Militia men sliced open necks with knives.
The yellow eyed one laughed, stretching. “Can you feel it Dean? Soon I’ll be able to step out of this skin and take my revenge.”
Dean let go of Sam’s hand and took the two steps it took to punch the son of a bitch in the face. His hand came away blistered as flame licked through the skin. “You knew…when you killed our mother, you knew what Javal had done.”
He laughed, fingers trying to push the ruffled skin up over the wound. “Yes…though I’ll admit I didn’t realize he’d gotten you both.”
“You came for me then?” Sam asked.
“Until I realized just what an abomination you were, Samuel. Even the other side doesn’t want someone like you.”
She was sidling up to them, hands running up Dean’s arm. “Too pretty for the good guys…to tainted…with…sin” Her smile turned on the last word, her tongue licking over red lips as if she wanted to taste that sin.
The other one was coming closer. It was like they held the only ground in the city not blood soaked, the four of them in some strange tableau. “Not demon, not angel,” he grimaced and shook his entire body like the word was abhorrent, “…not even human…fucking hybrid freaks…should have killed you both when you were children.”
“Someone tried…you intervened,” the woman said.
He shrugged. “It wouldn’t have been enough. The infection wasn’t strong enough to burn it out.”
Dean was getting dizzy, he stepped back, reaching for Sam again. Their circle was getting smaller as more and more people fell and those still fighting moved closer, moved to find ground that wasn’t already piled with bodies. “Maybe I should just let the two of you kill one another.” Dean said.
He could feel the power growing around them, the skin on the green eyed one was starting to crack. The yellow eyed one’s uniform burned at the edges. He pulled Sam closer, still not sure what it was they were meant to do. He closed his eyes. Deeper.
“You can’t do this, Dean. You aren’t strong enough.”
“You’re psychotic, Dean. You need help.”
“Never should have gone off the meds.”
The voices raged around him, around them as he pulled Sam in too, inside him…them…Please…
“Stop the bloodshed.” Dean twitched, not recognizing that voice. “You know how.”
Words popped into his head, words and a tone and he felt Sam physically turn so that they were back to back, the words pouring out of them…words in a language so forgotten it had no name…words that spun out and around and silenced everything…weapons fell to the ground, people collapsed and the sky grew dark as the demons possessing the horde were expelled.
Too little…too late…Dean knew as he felt the first claw dig into his leg, slicing through to bone. He opened his eyes to the corporeal form of one of the demons, the green eyed one who would have him dead if not in her service.
He pulled away from Sam, pushed him while he pushed him and grabbed at the demon’s claw to keep from getting it buried in his gut. There was blood…it flowed over his leg, on his hands…he could taste it…His eyes met Sam’s.
“You know what to do.”
The words echoed through his head, through Sam’s head. They were circling on Sam now as Dean stumbled, falling, bleeding. Protect the people…Dean saw Sam nod, tight as he scrambled out from under the attacking demons, as he clawed his way over the dead up to stand on a car’s roof, his hands spread.
Dean could feel it…the connection between them, the power he sent over that connection…Sam directing that power as Dean turned his attention on the two that had been the cause of it all…his pain…the turmoil of his life…it started slow, soft, as they fought each other to get to him, Sam forgotten now…primal, raw…stronger than the day he’d lost Daniel…more focused.
His head screamed in pain as he screamed out…as he threw it all at them…as he closed his eyes and emptied himself into it…into them….Everything around him lifted from the ground and rattled…windows shattering all around them…fire dancing along lines toward them…the earth shook, quaked beneath their feet, and rippled out from them as though he had dropped a rock in a pond…
Still they stood their ground and reached for him and it wasn’t enough….not nearly enough…
Dean felt as though his chest was being ripped open…as if he was pushing his heart and lungs up and out of his body. It was exactly as he had seen it…death and destruction, him and Sam…Sam…Dean’s eyes opened, locking on to his brother. He was hurting him. He could see it in Sam’s eyes. Don’t stop.
Dean shook his head. End it.
They were nearly on top of him…despite everything…Dean. Sam was faltering…Dean was hurting him…You can do this. I love you.
Suddenly, so suddenly Dean fell backwards, Sam shut down. He collapsed, and all the power he’d been diverting rushed into Dean. His hands burned, his face flushed with heat. He reached out for them, grabbing throats, arms…anything …his hands burning as he tried to find Sam in the haze of voices in his head.
“Sammy!”
He staggered forward, pulled by falling bodies as the demons stumbled…”He’s dead Dean…you killed him…your own brother…killed him…just like you killed Kaitlyn.”
Dean turned to the yellowed demon, his eyes blazing with fury. “He’s not dead you bastard. But you are.” He concentrated on the yellow eyed bastard, punching it’s face with all the fury he possessed, only slightly surprised when his fist burst into flames and crushed through the dark skin of his face. Its whole body was burning as he turned to the other one.
“Abomination,” it screamed. Dean grinned, snarled, lost in the passion of killing…of taking vengeance…his hands closing around its throat and he squeezed. The air reeked of sulfur and ozone and burning.
“You wanted me to embrace these gifts.” Dean said through clenched teeth as his fingers bit through the skin. Electricity raced through him then, his fingers sinking into the neck of the demon. They shook and Dean yelled…and then his hands were covered in grime…dark fluid and flesh and they were falling…
It all came crashing down as Dean fell, bodies fell from the sky, blood rained down around his as he crawled toward Sam. He couldn’t be dead. Dean could hear him…hear him thinking…hear his heart…not dead. Don’t be dead.
“Sammy.” He forced the word out of a throat that burned with the smell of sulfur.
Pain ravaged him, pulled him back to the ground when he would have climbed the car to his brother. “Sammy…please don’t be dead.”
He fought the blackness that descended on him…but his body was broken…his mind fragmented…the power that had flowed through him was gone…He couldn’t see beyond the blood he laid in…his own blood. It was over…there were no demons…it was delusion…he shook…maybe he’d never left that bedroom…maybe he was still stuck in the nightmare…Dr. MacAfferty’s voice was soothing, telling him she would make it better…Sam’s voice telling him he was leaving…Janet…Kaitlyn…
Title: Ages, Dean 24.2 (Click for 12, Click for 13, Click for 14, Click for 15, Click for 16, Click for 17, Click for 18, Click here for Sam 14, Click for 19, Click for 20, Click for Sam 16, Click here for 21, Click for Sam 17, Click for 22, Click here for Sam 18, Click here for 23, Click here for Sam 19, Click here for 23.5, Click here for 23.8.9, Click here for John, 49, Click here for 24, Click here for Sam, 19.8, Click here for John, 50, Click here for Dean, 24.1, Click here for Sam, 19.9)
Characters/Pairing: Sam, Dean, John, OFCs (overall story includes Sam/Dean, Dean/John and Dean/OFC)
Rating: R (thematic reasons)
Word Count: 4277
Summary: AU - Dean's POV. Self Sacrifice, a gathering of evil...Sam and Dean begin to make sense of what is happening to them and around them, and the battle commences.
A/Ns & Warnings: Overall this is story is very dark stuff. This particular installment continues that trend. There is blood and gore and darkness
He was twenty four years old when he lost his son into hell…when his gifts burst out of dormancy and shattered the air…when he woke to voices in his head that weren’t his own…when he held his wife’s hand while she died.
Twenty four.
He was twenty four years old when he embraced his destiny.
Jenny and John were gone, off to gather an army and supplies and hole up on the only other ground sacred enough to protect them until Dean was ready. As if he could be ready. He turned to Sam. “I need you to trust me.”
“I do, Dean.” Sam was watching him closely and Dean was only barely holding on to the power that had been flowing through him since Kaitlyn…since she’d kissed him and left him…since she’d pointed out the obvious.
“Something happened to me…something…I’m different.” He wasn’t sure he could explain…wasn’t sure he wouldn’t kill everyone if he couldn’t. He only knew what he’d seen…what he had to show Sam…what they had to become to survive this.
“I know.” Sam said, stepping a little closer.
“I can…see more, and hear things…and right now I’m only controlling it when you’re with me…and sometimes not then.” It was more than that…it had started when he woke up…when he’d woken up after losing Daniel…after letting the rage and fear burn away all of the walls…and it had just gotten…stronger.
Dean paced away. “It feels…kinda like going crazy…like waking up from a black out and knowing you did something, but not knowing what. I—we—can end this Sam. I know we can. We were meant to. This is why we have these gifts. This is why…why us. But…we have to figure it out…or I’m going to kill everyone.”
Sam shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t Dean. You—“
He turned fast and grabbed Sam by the arms. “I nearly killed you and Dad. I—I hurt Kaitlyn. She might have survived if I hadn’t—“ He shook his head. Power was pouring off him and the furniture started to move around them.
Sam’s hands rose to touch the sides of Dean’s face. “It’s okay Dean…we’ll figure it out…you and me. Just like always.” Dean drew him in, the flow of power moving over and through Sam as the furniture rattled and danced.
Show me…let me help you…show me everything.
Dean took his brother’s hands, created a circle of space where they stood. All around them the furniture danced as he let the excess energy rage. He didn’t know how he knew this, he just did. He opened himself up and welcomed Sam inside…inside where he could hide nothing. He felt Sam gasp at the intensity of it, but didn’t let go.
There was memory…pain…loss…shared and imagined, all his hiding…all the blame and fear and the faces over the years; Cassie and Kaitlyn, George and Janet, others Sam scarcely recognized…Dr. MacAfferty and Tony Pagliani, Father Andrews…There were fights between them and there was the fucking between them…sometimes it was both.
Everything Dean had ever been, every memory…all the way back to the night his father had put Sam’s tiny body in his arms and told him to take him outside…the night he saw his mother…the night the demon first saw him…them…the first time Dean ever saw it.
”You shouldn’t be here. You are banished.
“Dean?” Sam gasped and Dean tightened his grip.
“Stay with me Sam.”
“It…it was in her…in Mom.”
“I know.”
The fire came, the fire burned away at the thing inside her and the demon looked at him…at them…Dean saw him over his father’s shoulder…yellow eyes and a form of flame, and Dean ran, holding Sam as tight as his little arms allowed.
Dean was tiring. Tiring fast. He let go of Sam’s hands and stumbled backward. The furniture stopped moving and Dean collapsed on the couch.
“Dean?”
He dragged a hand over his face. “She did this to us Sam…she made us like this…or that thing inside her did.”
“What was it?”
Dean covered his eyes, trying to will his insides to stop shaking. “It…I don’t know.”
Sam came to kneel in front of him, grounding him with hands on his knees, with a soft closeness that was soothing. “Was it an angel like Reuel?”
“Maybe. Fuck!” Dean sat up suddenly and Sam jumped back. “You should warn a person.”
“Dean?”
Dean looked at Sam funny. “After all that, you don’t see him?”
“Who?”
“The angel in question.” Dean gestured at the spot where Reuel stood, sans his host.
“No? You see Reuel, without Jenny?”
Dean nodded. “Told you, seeing things.” Dean looked up expectantly.
“His name was Javal. He was neither demon nor angel…and he was both.”
“That makes no sense.” Dean said, sitting back. Sam frowned at him, and Dean reached for his hand. “Maybe I can…” He reached out for Sam mentally as well, shifting the room so Sam could see.
“Oh.” Sam surveyed the room. “Is this how you always see things?”
“It is since I woke up.” Dean replied. “Reuel here says the thing inside Mom was neither demon nor angel and he was both.”
“You were right, that makes no sense.”
Reuel smiled. “Javal was among those who you call demons for millennia. Then he repented, and was banished from hell. Yet he was not pure enough to join our ranks, thus he was condemned to walk between.”
“So what was he doing in our mother?” Sam asked.
“Presumably creating you.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s comforting.” Dean said.
“This serves no purpose, Dean. The battle comes.”
“Back off Big Bird.” Dean said. “I’ve been pushed around and manipulated long enough. We’re doing this my way.”
“So where is he now?” Sam asked.
“No one knows. No one has seen him since before Dean was born.”
“Yeah, well…he had a plan.” Dean said. “He put it in here.” He tapped his head. “Along with the other gifts.”
“I told you before Dean, no angel nor demon has the power to give those gifts, they are a part of you.”
Dean smiled, but there was no joy in it. “I know what you told me Reuel. I’m telling you, he was very specific about this. He chose Mom and he chose Dad very carefully. I don’t know how I know…I just do.” He took a deep breath. “That exorcism, Dr. MacAfferty? He put that in here.” Again he tapped his temple. “There’s more. And I have to figure it out. I have to find my way in.”
“He didn’t expect me.” Sam said suddenly. “He was deliberate about you. He was planning to raise you to be his warrior, to take on those who crossed the line.”
Dean looked at him, frowning, but the information fit with what his head was telling him. “And two of us in one place is what drew the demon…the one that killed Mom.”
“What about the other one?” Sam asked.
“He killed Cassie…I drew him when I pulled the paralim out of their house. I didn’t kill it, just sent it away…it probably bargained with the demon for something, told him about me.”
That was what the whole thing was about. One of them knew what they were and wanted them…wanted to corrupt them and manipulate them, turn them. The other knew what they were and what that meant they were capable of, and just wanted them out of the game. And the war between the two over it would destroy the city.
“That’s why they told us the gifts weren’t ours, weren’t meant for us.” Sam said breathlessly…and Dean nodded…because it suddenly made sense.
You took gifts that weren’t yours to take. You swallowed down everything he gave you, even though it will kill you…
Dean had always assumed it had meant Sam…that he had taken some birthright that had been supposed to be his brothers…but instead he was talking about this Javal. “He found a way.” Dean murmured. “He…wanted it to redeem him…”
He shook his head as the vague approaching pain distracted him. Sam’s hand closed over his and the vision shifted into focus. Daniel.
Dean cussed and reached for it, embracing the pain and all to see his son. He lay in his blanket, dirty and angry, his tiny face red with his tears. “Breathe.” Sam murmured and Dean dragged in a shaky breath. Daniel turned his eyes as though he could see Dean and his tiny hand shoved into his mouth.
Hold on, little man. Daddy’s going to come for you.
“Time grows short.” Reuel said as Dean opened his eyes and focused on the room again.
“I realize that. Tomorrow at noon, this street will run red with blood.” Dean looked up. “Sam and I will stand between them…and do what it is Javal made us to do. Then I will march into hell and retrieve my son.”
Dean spent the next hours working at understanding and controlling his gifts, stopping only when he and Sam were both dripping with sweat and he had destroyed nearly every stick of furniture in the living room. They crawled up the stairs and Dean pulled Sam into bed. “Sleep Sammy…sleep.”
He dreamed of his son, of the demon who held his son…of his father in the basement of the church. It wasn’t quite dawn when he sat upright in the bed. No. He pulled himself free of Sam and moved around the room, trying to shake the feeling. No. His father wouldn’t…couldn’t…Sam sat up. “Dad.”
Fuck. “Sam?”
“Dad…he…he…traded…”
Dean was nodding, even as he lifted his hand and brought his cell phone to him without thought. It rang as it settled into his hand. “Jenny.”
“It’s okay, Jenny…we know.” Dean said. Their father was gone. In his place Daniel had been returned. “Fucking fuck.”
Sam pulled him into his arms, rubbing a hand over his back. “We have to get to the church.” Dean said.
“Won’t be easy. Streets are full of military.”
“I know. I’ll get us there. We need a bag for Daniel.”
It felt like months had passed, not a week as Dean took his son in his arms. “He…left a note.” Jenny said, handing it to Sam.
“I owe you this much. I wasn’t much of a father…maybe this will let you be the father I never was. I love you boys more than you can ever know.”
“He summoned the damn thing?” Sam said, and she nodded.
“In the basement.”
Dean shook his head. He never wanted…any of this….and yet, here they were. “I need to get things rolling. Jenny, could you get him changed and fed? We brought half the nursery.”
She nodded, taking the baby back. Dean looked around him, around them. Hunters and priests, angels, and things he wasn’t’ sure had names filled the sanctuary. He moved to the front of the room. “Can I have your attention? My name is Dean Winchester. I’m the one responsible for calling all of you here. By now you all know that there is something very wrong in this city. There are more demons walking in human skin today than there has been ever before. They are here for one reason. To kill. The more of them we send packing back to hell, the fewer people will die.”
He closed his eyes and tried to push away the images of streets running with rivers of blood. “The thing is, they aren’t the main event. They’re only paving the way. There are two demons set to do battle today. The sky will blacken and the roads run red. When enough blood has been shed, they will rise. Corporeal and ready for a fight. Your goal is to prevent that.”
“How are we supposed to do that?” someone asked and Dean nodded.
“By any means necessary. The priest will keep blessing water sources. Those who can speak Latin or Sumerian will do exorcisms. Bring them back here if you can, do them out there if you have to and send the survivors here. Anything and everything to get as many of them out of the streets as you can. Kill them only as a last resort.”
“What makes you think you’re in charge?” someone else asked and Dean flinched. He didn’t want to be in charge.
Dean closed his eyes, reached behind him, forcing the angel that was there to become visible. “I can do this. Can you?”
He let go of the startled creature and took a shaky breath. “Save lives, save as many as you can.”
“I can’t do this, Sam.” Dean whispered into his brother’s shoulder. They were as alone as they could be considering everything…in the church basement, staring at the symbol their father had chalked on the floor. “I…everything is just…wrong….and I don’t think I can…”
Sam’s arms tightened around him. “You can…you’re stronger than you realize, Dean.”
“How could he do it? Why? We need him…god, Sam we’ve always needed him…and he’s never there…never…”
Sam’s lips brushed his cheek. “He was there, Dean….we just couldn’t see him. He was there. We’ll get him back.”
“Don’t mean to interrupt.” It was Jenny’s voice, but with Reuel in it.
Dean sighed and looked up. “No…it’s okay.”
“You should come upstairs. It’s starting.”
Dean took Sam’s hand. Stay with me.
Sam squeezed. Not going anywhere.
The sanctuary was full of people, the smell of blood was sharp on the air. Someone Dean vaguely recognized approached. “It’s ugly out there. They’re everywhere. The army isn’t even keeping up.”
Dean nodded. This was it. He turned to Jenny/Reuel. “You protect this place, these people.”
“You know I’m not—“
“I don’t care what you’re allowed to do or how involved you want to be. I’m not asking. You’ve fucked with me enough. All of you. I lost my wife, I’ve lost my father, my childhood. My fucking sanity. You are staying here. You are protecting my son and the rest of these people. The rules have all changed.”
He tugged on Sam’s hand, pulling him toward the doors. They stepped out and Dean staggered a little under the onslaught. The church seemed to exist in something of a bubble, and where the church property ended, chaos reigned.
The street was crawling with men in military uniform, though they seemed to be fighting each other as much as they were trying to control the crowds. “Do you know where we’re going?” Sam asked as they started down the stairs.
Dean shook his head, but didn’t speak. He was concentrating on keeping them invisible and slipping them past the fighting. All around them guns beat against the air and somewhere in the area there was an explosion.
They were moving toward downtown, and the further they went the worse the destruction already was. Buildings were burning. Bodies littered the ground.
The pavement was sticky with blood and gore. It was worse than the vision of it Dean had had after the withdrawal. The stench was overwhelming. “I’m gonna be sick,” he murmured, letting go of Sam to grab a nearby wall as he leaned over to empty his stomach.
He wasn’t ready for this. He couldn’t handle this. He needed….focus. He needed to focus. His hand went to the stitched up wound in his thigh, pressing inward, breathing through it as the pain rose, sharp and quick, He let the rest fade away, everything but the momentary pain.
“Dean?”
Sam’s eyes were wide, and more than a little of what he saw in them was fear. “I’m okay…Sammy. I’m good.”
He was so far from good, and he knew Sam knew it, but Sam nodded, his hand on Dean’s back.
“Well…isn’t this touching?”
Dean whirled around, bringing Sam with him and unconsciously pushing Sam behind him. “I thought we had an agreement, Dean. Now look at you.”
Gold-yellow eyes tracked their movements. Gold-yellow eyes in the face of a man in a police uniform. Those eyes ticked up to Sam’s. “Hello Samuel. It’s nice to see you again.”
“We’re going to send you back to hell, you fucking bastard.” Dean growled when he finally found his voice.
“You could try, Dean.” The thing nodded, a concerned look on it’s stolen face. “You’ll be a little busy though…think you can concentrate on me while my children are making way for me to shed this skin?”
They came then, out of buildings, alleys, cars…swarms of them, with black-smoke eyes and blank faces. They came toward Sam and Dean, but rather than attacking them, they turned on one another.
“No!” Dean yelled as two within arms reach slit each others throats. “Fucking bastard. Sam!” He reached with hand and mind, drawing Sam close. The words flowed into his mind and out of Sam’s mouth. Latin words, crafted a millennia ago. Several of the closest ones opened their mouths, black ink pouring out of them.
Dean took them a few steps closer. A few more of them were released. Then a few more. The demon was laughing. “At this rate, Dean, you and your brother will be dead before you get half way through them.”
He was right, of course. Dean was tiring. Rapidly tiring. And as he tired, his tenuous hold was fraying. Already cars and store windows were rattling.
“You should have kept your end of our bargain, Dean. Before this day is over I will feast on your brother’s flesh while you sit at my knee and watch.”
“Don’t listen to him, Dean. He’s a lying sack of shit.”
Dean turned. Green-gold eyes in the face of a woman. She walked closer. “Of course, so am I…so maybe you shouldn’t listen to me either.
“You killed Cassie.”
She smiled. “I did…though you didn’t exactly react the way I wanted.”
“It’s a Winchester thing.” Sam said, stepping in closer.
“Ah, yes Sammy. My mistake was trying to get to Dean through the women in his life. I can be a little slow on the uptake. Had I realized it was you, things might have been much different.”
Suddenly Dean could see them, the way they had played his life. The green-eyed one had sent minions after Jenny and Janet, used Tony…goading him into using his gifts while the other had constantly tried to convince him to repress them.
“Dean.” Sam’s voice was soft, but urgent. He looked up…and around. People were screaming, dying…black eyed cops mowed down entire clusters of people with machetes and machine guns. Militia men sliced open necks with knives.
The yellow eyed one laughed, stretching. “Can you feel it Dean? Soon I’ll be able to step out of this skin and take my revenge.”
Dean let go of Sam’s hand and took the two steps it took to punch the son of a bitch in the face. His hand came away blistered as flame licked through the skin. “You knew…when you killed our mother, you knew what Javal had done.”
He laughed, fingers trying to push the ruffled skin up over the wound. “Yes…though I’ll admit I didn’t realize he’d gotten you both.”
“You came for me then?” Sam asked.
“Until I realized just what an abomination you were, Samuel. Even the other side doesn’t want someone like you.”
She was sidling up to them, hands running up Dean’s arm. “Too pretty for the good guys…to tainted…with…sin” Her smile turned on the last word, her tongue licking over red lips as if she wanted to taste that sin.
The other one was coming closer. It was like they held the only ground in the city not blood soaked, the four of them in some strange tableau. “Not demon, not angel,” he grimaced and shook his entire body like the word was abhorrent, “…not even human…fucking hybrid freaks…should have killed you both when you were children.”
“Someone tried…you intervened,” the woman said.
He shrugged. “It wouldn’t have been enough. The infection wasn’t strong enough to burn it out.”
Dean was getting dizzy, he stepped back, reaching for Sam again. Their circle was getting smaller as more and more people fell and those still fighting moved closer, moved to find ground that wasn’t already piled with bodies. “Maybe I should just let the two of you kill one another.” Dean said.
He could feel the power growing around them, the skin on the green eyed one was starting to crack. The yellow eyed one’s uniform burned at the edges. He pulled Sam closer, still not sure what it was they were meant to do. He closed his eyes. Deeper.
“You can’t do this, Dean. You aren’t strong enough.”
“You’re psychotic, Dean. You need help.”
“Never should have gone off the meds.”
The voices raged around him, around them as he pulled Sam in too, inside him…them…Please…
“Stop the bloodshed.” Dean twitched, not recognizing that voice. “You know how.”
Words popped into his head, words and a tone and he felt Sam physically turn so that they were back to back, the words pouring out of them…words in a language so forgotten it had no name…words that spun out and around and silenced everything…weapons fell to the ground, people collapsed and the sky grew dark as the demons possessing the horde were expelled.
Too little…too late…Dean knew as he felt the first claw dig into his leg, slicing through to bone. He opened his eyes to the corporeal form of one of the demons, the green eyed one who would have him dead if not in her service.
He pulled away from Sam, pushed him while he pushed him and grabbed at the demon’s claw to keep from getting it buried in his gut. There was blood…it flowed over his leg, on his hands…he could taste it…His eyes met Sam’s.
“You know what to do.”
The words echoed through his head, through Sam’s head. They were circling on Sam now as Dean stumbled, falling, bleeding. Protect the people…Dean saw Sam nod, tight as he scrambled out from under the attacking demons, as he clawed his way over the dead up to stand on a car’s roof, his hands spread.
Dean could feel it…the connection between them, the power he sent over that connection…Sam directing that power as Dean turned his attention on the two that had been the cause of it all…his pain…the turmoil of his life…it started slow, soft, as they fought each other to get to him, Sam forgotten now…primal, raw…stronger than the day he’d lost Daniel…more focused.
His head screamed in pain as he screamed out…as he threw it all at them…as he closed his eyes and emptied himself into it…into them….Everything around him lifted from the ground and rattled…windows shattering all around them…fire dancing along lines toward them…the earth shook, quaked beneath their feet, and rippled out from them as though he had dropped a rock in a pond…
Still they stood their ground and reached for him and it wasn’t enough….not nearly enough…
Dean felt as though his chest was being ripped open…as if he was pushing his heart and lungs up and out of his body. It was exactly as he had seen it…death and destruction, him and Sam…Sam…Dean’s eyes opened, locking on to his brother. He was hurting him. He could see it in Sam’s eyes. Don’t stop.
Dean shook his head. End it.
They were nearly on top of him…despite everything…Dean. Sam was faltering…Dean was hurting him…You can do this. I love you.
Suddenly, so suddenly Dean fell backwards, Sam shut down. He collapsed, and all the power he’d been diverting rushed into Dean. His hands burned, his face flushed with heat. He reached out for them, grabbing throats, arms…anything …his hands burning as he tried to find Sam in the haze of voices in his head.
“Sammy!”
He staggered forward, pulled by falling bodies as the demons stumbled…”He’s dead Dean…you killed him…your own brother…killed him…just like you killed Kaitlyn.”
Dean turned to the yellowed demon, his eyes blazing with fury. “He’s not dead you bastard. But you are.” He concentrated on the yellow eyed bastard, punching it’s face with all the fury he possessed, only slightly surprised when his fist burst into flames and crushed through the dark skin of his face. Its whole body was burning as he turned to the other one.
“Abomination,” it screamed. Dean grinned, snarled, lost in the passion of killing…of taking vengeance…his hands closing around its throat and he squeezed. The air reeked of sulfur and ozone and burning.
“You wanted me to embrace these gifts.” Dean said through clenched teeth as his fingers bit through the skin. Electricity raced through him then, his fingers sinking into the neck of the demon. They shook and Dean yelled…and then his hands were covered in grime…dark fluid and flesh and they were falling…
It all came crashing down as Dean fell, bodies fell from the sky, blood rained down around his as he crawled toward Sam. He couldn’t be dead. Dean could hear him…hear him thinking…hear his heart…not dead. Don’t be dead.
“Sammy.” He forced the word out of a throat that burned with the smell of sulfur.
Pain ravaged him, pulled him back to the ground when he would have climbed the car to his brother. “Sammy…please don’t be dead.”
He fought the blackness that descended on him…but his body was broken…his mind fragmented…the power that had flowed through him was gone…He couldn’t see beyond the blood he laid in…his own blood. It was over…there were no demons…it was delusion…he shook…maybe he’d never left that bedroom…maybe he was still stuck in the nightmare…Dr. MacAfferty’s voice was soothing, telling him she would make it better…Sam’s voice telling him he was leaving…Janet…Kaitlyn…
