Chapter Two
Sympathy For The Devil
November 3rd, 2006
Jefferson City, Missouri
Dean
Dad stood in the middle of the room. His eyes glowed yellow from the Demon that had a hold of him. Not just any Demon, the Demon; the same Demon that killed my mother and Sam’s girlfriend. It had Sam and I pinned to the wall. The Colt I’d had in my hands was now on the floor at Dad’s feet. Of all the people in this world to possess, it had to be Dad, one of the few I would not kill even if my life depended on it. This Demon knew how to play Its cards better than any evil thing I’d faced, and It had just dealt us a dangerous, unstable hand – a hand that could only be played one way; in favour of the Demon. The son of a bitch.
Dad bent down and picked up the Colt. He held it up to his face, almost as if he were staring it down. “What a pain in the ass this thing’s been.”
I struggled. I wanted out of his grip, but he was too strong. I had no choice but to relax; I wasn’t getting out that easily.
“It’s you, isn’t it?” Sam spoke. It was more of a statement than a question. “We’ve been looking for you for a long time.”
Dad looked up at my brother. The smile on his face made my skin crawl. “Well, you found me.” He sounded a lot more amused than I thought he should’ve been.
“But the holy water…” Sam sounded just as confused as I was now. Holy water always worked on Demons.
“You think something like that works on something like me?”
Holy water didn’t effect him? What the hell? We were in way over our heads this time.
I could hear anger and fear settling into Sam’s body. His breath quickened, become harsher. My little brother was scared and there was nothing I could do.
“I’m gonna kill you!”
How, Sammy? I wondered. How? We’re pinned to the wall and he has the Colt.That skin-crawling smile grew bigger on Dad’s face and I shuddered.
“Oh, that’d be a neat trick. In fact,” Dad set the Colt on the table in front of him, “here. Make the gun float to you there, Psychic Boy.”
Oh, God, no. It was bad enough he had Sam scared half to death, now he was taunting him? This Demon would die a slow and amazingly painful death. I would make sure of it.
I looked over at my brother. Concentration was thick in his face, his eyes fixed on the gun on the table. He was trying, – desperately trying – to raise that gun from the table… Would he? Defeat wrote itself all over his face a moment later, and he passed me an apologetic look. Failure was not something he took easily.
A small, amused laugh escaped Dad and he looked between Sam and myself. “You know, this is fun. I could’ve killed you a hundred times today; but this, this is worth the wait.” He turned to me. “Your Dad, he’s in here with me; trapped inside his own meat suit. He says ‘Hi’ by the way. He’s gonna tear you apart. He’s gonna taste the iron in your blood.”
A lump formed in my throat that I couldn’t get rid of. I shot Dad a hard glare. “Let him go, or I swear to God–”
“What?” He cut me off and approached me. “What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I’m concerned, this is justice.”
What the hell? Justice? Justice for what? What did we do?
“You know that little exorcism of yours?” he asked. “That was my daughter.”
I felt my eyes widening and a feeling of guilt fill my stomach. “Who, Meg?”
“And the one in the alley?” he continued. “That was my boy. You understand?”
I couldn’t believe it. I’d killed his children. But this was the Demon. Why the hell was I feeling remorse for this? I should’ve been more than happy those Demons were gone.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I managed to barely whisper. Why did I feel so bad?
“What? You’re the only one that can have a family?” The smile on Dad’s face melted. This Demon was serious. He gave me a hard stare. “You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?” A smile of realization spread across his face and he took a breath. “Oh, that’s right, I forgot. I did.” Now that smile was one of pure satisfaction, and it made me sick. “Still, two wrongs don’t make a right.”
I swallowed. “You son of a bitch.” If he was looking for sympathy, he wasn’t getting it here – not one tiny smidgen of it. He killed my future and destroyed Sam’s dreams. All he deserved, was a one-way trip to death.
“I wanna know why,” Sam spoke, his voice taut, his anger more than crystal clear. “Why’d you do it?”
Dad turned to Sam, that smile back on his face. “You mean, why’d I kill Mommy and pretty little Jess?”
I was barely able to suppress a growl for that comment. Who the fuck did he think he was mocking them that way? I wanted to kill him right here and now, the bastard.
“Yeah,” Sam replied shortly.
Dad turned back to me. “Y’know, I never told you this, but Sam was going to ask her to marry him. He’d been shopping for rings and everything.”
Another wave of guilt washed over me; this one bigger than the first. Sam had really been going to ask Jess to marry him? I tore him away from that… I asked him to do that job on Centennial Highway with me, giving the Demon ample time to claim Jess. It was my fault. If I hadn’t have asked Sam to come with me… He was so close to living the dream he’d always wanted. Thanks to me, Sam hadn’t been there to protect Jess… What had I done?…
Dad walked over to Sam, the look of pure evil and haunting in his eyes. “You wanna know why? Because they got in the way.”
“In the way of what?” Sam demanded.
“My plans for you, Sammy. You, and all the children like you.”
What plans did he have for my brother? What hand was he going to deal us next? I swallowed and pushed my confusion to the back of my mind. He wouldn’t leave Sam alone; I had to intervene – for Sam’s sake.
“Listen,” I spoke up, “you mind just getting this over with, huh? ‘Cause I really can’t stand the monologuing.”
Dad turned in my direction sharply. “Funny.” His voice was thick with sarcasm. “But, that’s all part of your M.O., isn’t it?” He approached me again. “To mask all that nasty pain; mask the truth.”
Dammit. He was getting to me. My plate of armour was cracking. I couldn’t let him see it; I wouldn’t.
I smiled, cocky, my eyes hard. “Oh yeah? What’s that?” What truth was I masking?He took a breath, his yellow eyes bearing down into mine. “You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is: They don’t need you; not like you need them.”
What the hell was he saying? I didn’t believe it. I knew my dad and Sam – especially Sam – needed me just as much as I needed them, if not more. This Demon knew my family meant the world to me and It was using it against me. Family was important to everyone. Even It.
Dad took another breath. “Sam,” he continued. “He’s clearly John’s favourite. Even when they fight, it’s more concern than he’s ever shown you.”
I could feel my bottom lip beginning to quiver slightly. Shit. I was faltering. I couldn’t; I couldn’t let him get to me.
The smile returned to my lips. “I bet you’re real proud of your kids too.” My eyes, my expression mirrored his from when he made the comment about how I would feel if he killed my family. The look of realization, the smile of satisfaction. I inhaled. “Oh, wait, I forgot. I wasted ‘em.”
Dad’s eyes shifted downwards. Inwardly, I begged the anger I knew he had towards me would subside and he would berate me verbally. Verbal abuse was something I was used to – no thanks to the man whose body the Demon was occupying – but physical abuse was not something I dealt with easily.
His eyes met mine suddenly, hard and angry. In all truth, it scared me. A lot. The look in his eyes told me he was about to do something to one of us. Please not Sam. Don’t hurt Sammy… Don’t hurt my brother…
Okay. He Demon’s voice was inside my head, low and angry. As you wish.
His stare hardened and time seemed to slow. A great deal more pressure closed in on my body. My back was pressed against the wall harder; so hard it hurt. Air rushed into my lungs. What felt like the sharp points of a large animal’s claws began to dig at my chest at my collarbone. I could feel my skin ripping, the sinews of my flesh tearing. It burned, like flames from a raging wildfire. It burned so badly, the blood escaping my torn flesh felt cool. It did nothing to numb the pain, however. A scream I wasn’t even aware I could make escaped me. I could feel warm blood creeping up my throat, escaping my mouth, running over my bottom lip as the phantom claws cut through my flesh, down towards my heart. Another set of phantom talons clawed at me, these starting from the first set, diagonal, down towards the middle of my chest. Oh God. Any more and… No… not this way…
“Dad!” I cried. “Dad! Don’t you let it kill me!” I wasn’t one to plead; it sounded foreign to me, but I did not want It to kill me. Who would protect Sammy if I was gone? How would he survive the night if the Demon killed me? I knew Dad was in there. He had to be!
I could hear Sam calling my name, the same fear I felt all through my body in his voice. I couldn’t die this way. Not to my own father! I couldn’t! I had to protect Sam, I had to!
I looked up. I could feel my strength fading and I was finding it hard and painful to breathe.
I swallowed. More blood escaped my mouth. My eyes stung and my vision grew watery. “Don’t let it kill–”
The phantom claws dug deeper, making it harder and even more painful to breathe. “Dad! Please!”
“Dean!” Sam called. “No!” I could hear him struggling against the grip of the Demon’s hold. There was nothing either of us could do. The Demon was winning…My father smiled, his eyes shifting downwards. The extra pressure was lifting. I could feel my blood rushing back into my body; it felt strange, like I was unwillingly being filled with a sweet yet deadly substance, and it sent shivers all through me. I barely had enough strength to hold my head up, so I just let it hang.
“Stop it.” Dad! He had a hold on the Demon; he was fighting It! God, it did me good to hear my father’s real voice again. “Stop it!”
I heard Sam fall to the floor; Dad had held on long enough to free Sammy… I then heard the familiar click of the Colt’s hammer. I looked up, raising only my eyes since I didn’t have the strength to raise my whole head. I didn’t want to believe what I was seeing. Sam had the Colt aimed at Dad!
Dad still wore that skin-crawling smile. The Demon had gained the upper-hand again. “You kill me, you kill Daddy.”
“I know.” Sam’s voice was solid. Oh God. He wasn’t going to kill Dad, was he? He couldn’t. After everything we’d been through trying to find him? No! He just couldn’t!
Sam lowered his arm, and pulled the trigger. I didn’t want to watch, but I couldn’t look away. The bullet buried itself in Dad’s right thigh, white light like electricity racing over his body, lighting up the room slightly.
The Demon’s grip on me lifted all at once and my body crumpled, falling to the floor in a heap. I was unable to see Dad who I knew now lay motionless on the wooden floor. I took in a hard, hoarse breath, cringing with the pain that came with it.
“Dean.” Sam’s attention diverted to me almost immediately, and though I was comforted by his concern, I wanted to know how Dad was, and I was more than relieved my brother was okay. Sam rushed over, kneeling in front of me. “Dean, hey.” His eyes looked over my bloody, weak body. I tried to hide a shiver; with the blood leaving my body, I was cold and nauseous.
“Oh God,” Sam’s voice was thick with fear, “you’ve lost a lot of blood.”
I looked up at him, cringing inwardly at the level of concern on his face. Concern for me. “Where’s Dad?” Dad had to be alright. He was a Winchester, and the strongest man I knew.
“He’s right here,” Sam answered, soft and soothing. “He’s right here, Dean.” Despite his tone of voice, I was still scared shitless and had to know for sure that our father was okay.
“Go check on him,” I whispered, fighting, trying to ignore how painful it was to just breathe, let alone speak.
“Dean…” Sam started to protest.
“Go check on him,” I repeated. I was okay for now – it was Dad I was worried about.
Slowly, Sam stood up. I watched his shoulders tense as he rose the gun in both hands and inched towards our motionless father. I raised my head, my eyes locked on my two family members.
“Dad,” Sam called softly. “Dad.”
Oh God. Dad wasn’t responding. No… He couldn’t be–
“Sammy!” Dad raised his head, looking at Sam. His voice was loud and desperate; full of fear. It was a sound I had never heard come out of him – not until now. It scared me. Dad was never afraid of anything, or if he was, he never let it show. He had always seemed so fearless, so ready to take down the world of the Supernatural. Now, he seemed, somehow, more fragile, more human than I saw him when I was a kid. I wasn’t sure if I should be comforted or frightening by it.
“It’s still alive,” Dad said, his voice softer, but still desperate, “it’s inside me, I can feel it.” Dad looked at Sam, his eyes solid and demanding as they usually were. “You shoot me.”
What?! He wanted Sam to shoot him? No… Now I wished we’d never found the damn Demon. This was the last thing I wanted. It was bad enough Sam had been ready to go back into that burning house in Salvation to kill the Demon. Now Dad wanted Sam to destroy the Demon with It still inside of him? This was crazy! He couldn’t, Sam couldn’t kill Dad!
“You shoot me,” Dad continued, “you shoot me in the heart, son. Do it, now!”
“Sam,” I was barely able to whisper, “don’t you do it, don’t you do it.”
Sam’s face was a cauldron of emotions. He didn’t know what to do – he was being told two completely different things. Dad was ordering him to kill him, while I was begging him not to. He couldn’t. I don’t know what I would do if Dad was gone, especially if he were killed by his own son.
“Sam, you’ve got to hurry.” Dad’s voice was no less demanding than it was before, but there was a great deal more desperation. He really wanted Sam to do this. “I can’t hold onto It much longer. Shoot me, son, shoot me! Son, I’m begging you. We could end this here and now. Sammy!”
I had to admit, ending everything here and now sounded wonderful, but not at the cost of a family member. Killing the Demon would come, but not now and most definitely not this way.
“Sam, don’t.” I was struggling to make my voice heard through the pain I was in.
He blinked and swallowed; his hands shook slightly and I knew he’d heard me. He had to listen, he had to!
“You do this, Sammy!” Dad was yelling now, his words coming out as orders. He was ordering Sam… No… I wanted to stop him. Sam had been through too much already with Jess’s death; he didn’t need this hanging over his head. Damn you, Dad.
Dad’s body convulsed suddenly and he screamed. The moment he opened his mouth, the black form of the Demon, like thick black, evil smoke, rushed out, filling the air over his head. The room was filled with the smell of sulfur. Shit, it was strong. It burned my already burning lungs and I realized then that I’d been holding my breath. The entity of the Demon swirled for a moment before descending and disappearing, slipping between the floorboards.
Silence befell the room, heavy like an early morning fog after an overnight thunderstorm. I looked at Sam, then to Dad. A salty tear ran out of the side of my eye, falling onto the floor beneath me. I didn’t want to believe Dad would ever give that look to Sam. The same – exact same – look he’d given me when that Shtriga had almost claimed my brother: Disappointment. Sure, that had been my fault – I’d left Sam alone, – but this… This was not Sammy’s fault! How could Dad look at Sam that way? Sam had done the only thing he could to make sure everyone made it out alive! Wasn’t Dad grateful we were all alive; even just a tiny bit?
I lay my head back on the floor, closing my eyes as another tear escaped my other eye, running over the bridge of my nose. I made no move to wipe it away; I just closed my eyes tighter. It broke my heart to see Dad the way he was. He should’ve been happy, not disappointed. How could you, Dad?
Dad was disappointed in Sam; I was disappointed in Dad.
-0o0o0-
Sam helped Dad and I to the Impala, Dad getting in the passenger seat, me in the back. Unable to hold myself up, I leaned against the driver’s side rear door, my back in the corner of the seat and the door. Sam got in behind the wheel, got to the highway, then tore down it, pushing the car harder than I think she’d ever been pushed.
Dad and I both grimaced as the car hit a few bumps in the road. Dad was more vocal than I. At the moment, I didn’t know if I was even strong enough to voice anything other than a short, quiet moan. I struggled to hide how cold I felt, struggled to appear strong…
What the fuck? Who was I trying to fool? Sam, I knew for sure, could see right through me. What was the point in trying to hide it now? If there was one thing I had to struggle for, it was my life. I couldn’t give up; I had to protect Sammy. I couldn’t leave him.
“Look,” Sam spoke up, “just hold on, alright? The hospital’s only ten minutes away.”
Ten minutes? It sounded so close, yet seemed so far away. I swallowed. I had to hold on; just for a little while longer. If there was one good thing this life had taught me, it was to survive. I had something to live for: Family. I had to hang on – I couldn’t leave them behind. And with a hospital only ten minutes away, I had to fight – I had to survive.
“I’m surprised at you, Sammy,” I heard Dad speak up. I cringed. Disappointment lay thick in his voice. “Why didn’t you kill It? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this. Killing this Demon comes first; before me, before everything.”
I closed my eyes. Had I not been so weak, I would have said something – anything – in Sammy’s defense. Sure, there had been times when Sam had almost wanted nothing more than to find the bastard from Hell, but his objective had always been to find Dad just as much as me. I didn’t understand how, after the struggles we’d all been through, he had the nerve to pull this on Sam; the nerve to pull this on both of us. Did he not care that we had all made it out alive? Did he not care he was saying this with a dying son in the backseat – a son who already questioned his worth to those around him? Those words stung deeply and brought a tidal wave of questions. What would happen when we found the Demon? Would Dad think twice about sacrificing himself, or Sam and I? What would Dad do if I didn’t make it?
I met my brother’s gaze in the rearview mirror – that look of apology, despair and not knowing what to do. He then found a solid expression and shook his head.
“No sir,” he spoke, “not before everything.” His voice was steady and slightly sharp. “Look, we’ve still got the Colt; we still have one bullet left. We can start over, alright?” He was trying to get Dad to see our side of things. I desperately hoped he would succeed.
“I mean,” Sam continued, “we’ve already found the Demon once–”
My eyes were drawn to the passenger side by a pair of blinding white lights. Time seemed slow right down. It was there just long enough for me to make out the grille of a large tractor-trailer, rising like a row of teeth ready to eat the Impala whole.
My body was pulled to the right for only a second before I was lashed to the left. I felt like a ping-pong ball being exchanged between the world’s two strongest men. I could see the window coming at me, feel the Impala skidding sideways, smell the gas and heat from the truck’s grille. My head hit the window with such force, I thought the window would shatter. The pain was excruciating; white dots obscured my vision, but only for a moment. The dots, along with everything else – pain included – faded to darkness and I felt nothing.
I want more!
Whoa, whoa, back up!
Home James!