John approached his son's bed with a smile tucking lightly at his lips. He took a seat in the chair nearest to Dean.
"It’s good to see you awake and healthy." He lamely remarked after an awkward silence. "Well, it feels good to be awake and healthy, too." His eldest joked.
"But seriously now. Although I appreciate it a hell of a lot to be alive and kicking, I'd really love to know whose- or rather what's work this miracle realy is. Any ideas on that front, dad?" He asked, subconsiousley looking at his dad with the admiration of a four year old.
The Winchester frowned somewhat exausted, rubing the bringe of his nose "I don’t know Dean." He said, the lie coming smoothly from his lips.
"Too bad." Dean said, pitty, about their slow process, evidend in his voice but showing not even the slightest signs of disapointment towards his father.
"Do you think the reaper that's been hunting me has anything to do with all this? I mean they would have the mojo to do so, right?" He suggested after thinking about the matter for what seemed to be forever.
He still remembered the last time they had to deal with a reaper very well. Back then he would have died, if it hadn’t been for the fake faith healer.
This guy hadn’t actually healed him, but transfered his illnes to some other poor sucker. So did that even count as healing? He wondered. Or was somewhere out there another dead inocent, that died in his stead? He worried. He didn’t exactly cherish the idea of dying, but honestly he would rather die than keep on living at the cost of somebody else's life.
"The reaper, who hunted you?" His father repeated confused. "Uh, yeah. It came after me when I was... uhm... asleep." He explained, not too woried about it.
"Dean, when were you planning to tell me that? Why didn’t you mention it earlier!?" John asked, a mixture of anger, shock and disapointment in his voice.
"I thought you knew, didn’t Sammy tell you?" His son unvoluntarily lowered his gaze to the floor, the abashed shame of a kid lingering in his eyes. "He didn’t." His dad confirmed with a now calmer voice.
"Where were you anyway?" Dean asked curious though not with the same reproach like Sam before.
"There was something Important I had to do." The intel was as ever nonexistened, but Dean let it slide anyway.
"You should get some rest now. We can figure out who or what is responsible for this miracle when we’re at Bobby’s." John said, successfully changing topics. And left, after giving Dean a resuring pad on the shoulder, for his own room.
When he entered he found the demon already waiting for him. It was sitting casually on John’s bed, appearing for the second time slightly human, although still awkward, with it’s unblinking gaze steadily on John.
He shut the door behind him, though careful not to take his eyes of the monster in the tan coat.
As soon as the door had been closed the thing stood up and walked over to John, once again extending it’s hand towards him, for him to put the Colt in it.
This time he did as wished.
It pocketed the gun and then stretch out it’s arm again. This time offering something himself.
“What is this?” he asked, as he picked up the object and turned it over in his hand, inspecting it. “A cell phone.” It stated. He frowned out loud. “I know what it is, stupid! I meant: What is it for!?”
Suprisingly enough the creature seemed genuinely confused when it answered “Oh. It’s used to communicate with an other person despite a long distance.” John found himself face palming in frustration at that. Was the demon really that stupid or was it trying to anoy him (if so, it probably succeded already)? He wondered. “No, that’s still not what I meant.”
Another incredibly innocent Oh, for a monster, followed. He flipped open the phone to look at it’s contacts. One input. Cas
“Why did you give me a phone? I already have one.” He asked, more clearly this time. And luckily his opposite seemed to have finally understood what was meant. “It contains my number, so you may contact me if needed.”
Well, that was unexpected. A demon was giving him his cell phone number. A demon with a phone!
He had been hunting yellow eyes for about 20 years now. Collecting information about demons all the while, but never before had he encountered a demon with a cell phone.
“Wait. Slow down. You have a phone?!” he announced his suprise out loud “Yes.” The demon said. And although his face remained emotionless, his posture stiffened even further indicating just how uncomfortable he was.
“YOU? Why would you need a phone?” he was really enjoying this quite a lot. Normal demons would just communicate via blood goblet or just appeare when they wanted to talk. But this one had a phone.
"My normal way of communicatIon is less... efficent, considering the circumstances and more obvious to some people I try to avoid." He explained
“Let’s say I’m not very popular with… many people. And those don’t want me to intervene with their matters. Which include hell.“ He said sheepishly, when John raised a questioning brow.
“And your name is Cas?” he asked suprised of the not quite demonic name. "Yes.” It lifted the duffle bag off the bed and handed it to John.
He slowly sat it on the floor to look it through cautious to never let his guard down or show any weakness. His stuff was still there, but some new things had been added.
Lots of papers, a bag with small boxes and jars, each labeled different (Fairybones, gryphon feather,…) , and a jar of blood. “What’s this?” He asked as he rummaged through all that stuff.
“The papers explain how to do sigils and hex bags for warding and protection. One for example will ward you off of all demonic beeings. It will make your presence unknown to any demon.
Another prevents any supernatural being to hear or see anything within the sigil’s reach. Both have to be pained with a certain blood.” It pointed toward the jar of blood that John was still holding.
“The bag contains the ingredients for some of the sigils and all of the hex bags. You’re friend Bobby has antipossession charms, I would advise you and your sons to tattoo those on your body, if we're going to take down the demon." It sugested, but when it mentioned his sons John instantly pulled out his gun, aiming it at it’s head. It didn’t matter to him that it wouldn’t do anything.
“Stay away from my boys!” he growled in a low thread. The demon sighed in annoyance “If we hunt the demon the two of us wont suffice. And your sons would be the obvious choice.” The demon spoke slowly, like he was trying to explain something to a toddler.
"There is no chance in hell that I’ll involve my boys in this. And you wont either.” He said and, despite the demon having a legitimate point, released the safety catch.
“John, listen-“ he shot it once to shut it off. “No! You listen to me! We have a deal! I help you. So, stay away from my boys, freak!”
It took a step towards him and was shot for it. Though it didn’t seem to care a lot. “That’s correct. We have a deal. And I have every intention to keep my word. But beyond our deal it’s not your choice with who else I work.” He shot a third time.
“They’re my sons! It’s very well my choice!” a fourth shot. At the same time someone started to pound on the door “Dad? Dad!” Sam.
“Shit, Sammy it’s locked.” Dean.
More pounding. There was a shot from outside. Someone shooting the lock.
But the door wouldn’t open, as it was held closed by Cas, who was now standing within John’s personal space. “No. It’s not.” Fifth shot.
“They’re adults it’s their choice. And Sam and Dean Winchester? They’re good men. Good hunters. They wont give up on hunting that demon. They’ll hunt it with or without us. With us they have a better chance.” Sixth shot.
That seemed to have finally annoyed the demon, if John’s gun flying to the other end of the room while he himself was slammed into the wall behind him, held inches above the floor at his throat, was anything to go by.
More pounding and shouting could be heard from outside. “With us they’ll have no chance at all. We’ll doom them to death.” He choked out.
The demon’s voice softened momentarely. “John, they’re already doomed. Azazel has plans for Sam and you know as well as I do, that he wont give up on those. There’s no way back for Sam. And Dean wont leave his brother’s side for any price. They both are already to far in. There’s no way back for either of them. And no way for you to save them from it. The only way you can save their life is by helping them take down that demon. Or in this case by letting them help you.”
The two stared at each other in silence (though not a relaxing one considering that John's feets were still dangling a few inches above the ground) sharing a sadness on behalf of the Winchester boys.
But the strange moment ended all of a suddend and the softness vanished imediately from it’s eyes. “It’s probably wise to leave as soon as possible. They’re on their way.” It informed him out of the blue with it’s gravely, monotonous voice.
“Who?” John croaked out, his voice weak from the thight grip, which was still around his throat. “Demons. They must have noticed something is wrong.” And then it was gone.
The door flew open and Sam and Dean bursted in, with their guns at the ready, while John crashed to the floor, panting for air.
Dean dropped to the floor beside their father looking him over, while Sam checked the room for any supernatural occupants. “Clear.”
“Dad what happened? You fine?” Dean said making sure his father was fine, although he coudn’t find any physical sign of the opposite (well, beside the broken arm, his father had from the car crash).
“Yes, Dean. I'm fine.” John said after catching his breath.
“We should get going." He said, coming to his feets. "Now.” He collected his gun and the duffle bag and went straight to the hospital’s parking lot, his two confused sons on his heels.
John found the car Sam had borrowed from Bobby, an old and rusty van, which looked to be even older than John himself, with ease and went to the divers door. “Sam, give me the keys.” He held out his hand for Sam to hand them over. “No. Dad. First you tell us what the hell is going on. What attacked you? What are you hiding Dad?”
“I’ll tell you when we’re on the road.” He stretch out his arm further. “No. Now.” Sam insisted. Dean rolled his eyes and leand against the car preparing for a long discussion. His father seemed to be just as anoyed as he was, so was Sam. Exept Sam was anoyed of something else, namely dad's secrets.
“Sam, there’s no time for that. I’ll tell you later.” While the argument went on Dean let his gaze wander around the parking lot. There were only a few cars and he could only spot one more oerson beside them, an old lady in a wheelchair at the opposite side. “What do you mean there’s no time? What is going on Dad?” Sam’s anger had been fast replaced with worry and he gave the parking lot a wary glance. He saw the old lady, the only other person in the area, just as Dean had. But beside her neither noticed anything else.
At last John looked the parking lot over, too. He too spotted the old woman, wheeling her way to the hospital, but diffrent than his son's he recognized her as what she really was. “Get down.” He hissed.
Both did as told and simultaneously the three went in cover behind Bobby’s old van. “Dad? What is it?” whispered Dean.
“Demon.” He told him matter-of-factly. “How’d you know?” “We’ve been here for five minutes when we arrived she wasn’t here. The car is parked directly at the exit How’d she get over there so fast without any of us noticing he?" He explained, while they sneaked to the back of the car, “Sam, do you know, if Bobby has any weapons in the trunk.” They reached the Trunk of the car. John was nearest to it so Sam handed the keys to him. “A shotgun.” He provided.
“Oh boys! Originally I wanted to play with you guys a little longer, but you seemed to have figured it out already. So here’s the plan you come out and give me the gun and you die fast. Or we play hide and seek and you die slow. I’d prefer the last.”
John opened the trunk and took out the gun. “The last would be much more bloody and… fun.” The demon purred. “Stay with the car and look if you find more weapons. I’ll take the demon.” With that he went. “Hey, over here. You wanna have fun? That funny enough?” he fired once. It was only salt and would therefore only hurt a little, but it was all they got, so he had to do his best with it.
“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis legio” reloading, shooting “omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis congregatio et-“ the demon was most deffinitley in oain, but unfortunately still strong enough to lift John of off the ground and slamm him into a car, he dropped to the ground unconscious with a loud thud.
The demon grinned malicious, licking it’s lips and flashing it’s theeth in a playful manor, like a predator would whenever the perfect prey had been found. But concerningly enough she was heading straight for John.
"I'm actually a bit disapointed," the demon muttered to hetself, "I expected more of-" her monologue appruptley changed onto a gurgling and hissing, when an iron chain was tossed over her head and drawn thight, by Dean.
"Suck it up, you damn son of a bitch!" He hissed into her ear.
Sam got out of the cover to finish the exorcism, he had done it only once, but he still knew most if the words. “et secta diabolica-“ but sudendly Dean was send flying and crashed into Sam, when the demon pulled on the chain, despite her imende pain, hard enough for Dean to lose his balance. The blacjeyed monster took the opportunity and turned around and graped him at his collar to throw him at his brother.
They both gritted in pain, a though it seemed to have hit Dean harder than Sam. "Ergo draco maledicte," Sam pulled himself to his feets, continuing the exorcism. "Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi-" The demon screamed in agony, but before Sam could say last seven words he grumbled back to the ground, gasping for air, while an invisible force was choking out his life.
She walked towards Sam, as asuming falsely that Dean wasn't aware enough of his surroundings to bother her. And even before she reached the youngest Winchester, she cried out in pain when another Winchester started to resume the exorcism.
But Dean didn’t make it past the second word, before he was slammed to the floor by the demon, standing suddenly in front of him. “Dean Winchester. I hit you guys with a fucking truck, shouldn’t at least one of you be dead?” Dean slowly snatched up the bottle of holy water from his jacket while the demon was distracted with her monologue “It didn’t look to good for you Dean-o, if remember correctl, and I never forget such details. So-“ she interrupted her speech to scream in agony when she was hit by the water.
He rolled out from under her and came to his feet with ease. He splashed more water on her, while triying to recite the exorcism as good as he could. “libertare...uhm .... serve.... er... libertare servire...uhm...t-te... rogatus... no...uhm te rogamus....” It seemed to work at first, but he soon ran out of holy water and exorcism, what seemed to amused the demon somewhat.
“Aw, you're sweet.” she graped both of his wrists and squeezed until they broke. “But back to my question, will we? How the fuck did you, of all people make it out alive without even the tiniest scratch?!” She boxed him into the guts sending him to the floor again.
“Don’t know,” he tried to laugh at her put spat blood instead “Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are, bitch.” The demon huffed in dry amusement “You know” The demon above him said, devouring him with her pitch-black eyes.
“You’re funny and sweet. But-“ she kicked him in the rips sending him flying against a car. “the Boss doesn’t like you. And-“ another kick, in the face, this time. He spat out blood, grinning at her with a bloody smile, despite his pain. “And he likes you? Is that why you have to do the dirty work?” he mocked.
She kicked him in the guts once and leaned her head lightly to the left, pretending to think about the question. Another kick then “Well, honestly no. He likes no one. But if it matters to you, I don’t to it because he likes me or not.”
Another pause followed with a kick. “I. DO. IT. BECAUSE. I FUCKING. CAN. AND. I. DO. IT. BECAUSE. I. FUCKING. WANT. TO.” She punctuated every word with a violent kick and then went on more smoothly with her monologue. “Who knows maybe I'll get a bonus for killing you slow.” The demon in the body of an old frail granny knelt down to Dean smiling, eyes black.
She picked him up at the collar of his shirt and started to punch him in the face. She aimed to inflict him as much pain as possible, but without killing him instantly or rendering him unconscious.
Sam could see it from were he was lying. But he couldn’t stop her. He couldn’t do anything at all. His muscles started to still against his command and his vision slowly went unfocused, blackening at it’s edge.
And he knew very well, that without air he would soon fall unconscious.
A silent prayer left his mind as his eyes closed. A prayer to god. To heaven. And to all of it’s angels.
A prayer to anybody, who would listen.
Save Dean Winchester
TO BE CONTINUED…