Ghosts, Part III
Title: Ghosts
Author(s): darkmagic-luvr
Crossover: Supernatural/Firefly
Disclaimer: I do not own Firefly or Supernatural. Any characters you don't recognize are my own and should not be used without my permission.
Type: het
Word Count: Part III - 9,046
Characters/Pairings: Part III - Inara Serra, Mal Reynolds, Sam Winchester, Simon Tam, River Tam, Jayne Cobb, Kaylee Frye, Shepherd Book, Zoë Alleyne Washburne, Hoban Washburne, Dean Winchester, Bela Talbot, Jo Harvelle, Bobby Singer, Isaiah Winchester
Warnings: sex, lanuage, violence, death
Spoilers: the Firefly 'verse and through the beginning of season 4 of Supernatural
Artist: quiet-reble
Link to Art: here
Summary: Inara never wanted to die, and with the help of the Winchesters she hadn't for over 500 years. When an old friend and lover walks back into her life, she has to open her closet and face her skeletons, whether either of them want to.
Author’s Notes: Chinese translations at the bottom.
(PART III)
Three years. Three fucking years had gone by. Inara had been right. The pain of loosing Dean again was now an unpleasant throb, but he could go one day to the next without wanting to kill himself over the grief he felt. Surprisingly, nothing much had changed. There wasn’t some bang sending the entire planet into darkness. Then again, most of the world had left by now.
“Up,” Sam glanced down at his son from where he was cleaning his guns on the table, amusement spreading over his face as Isaiah lifted his arms, waiting for his father to pick him up. Sam sighed, tossing his cleaning rag onto the table in front of him and reaching down to scoop Isaiah into his arms, grinning as the boy giggled.
“He has you wrapped around his finger, bao bei,” said Inara, laughing at Sam as he bounced Isaiah on his knee. He looked up at her, trying to keep his face looking offended and failing only slightly, his eyes twinkling.
“Must have inherited your feminine wiles,” said Sam. Inara cuffed him across the back of the head before wrapping her arms around her son’s waist and picking him up.
“Daddy’s a nut job,” cooed Inara, combing her fingers through Isaiah’s hair as his head rested against her shoulder. Sam rolled his eyes and went back to cleaning his guns. The door behind them burst open, causing Sam to go for one of his guns not taken apart, aiming it at the door, only to lower it with a sigh as Jo and about six other hunters walked in, carrying boxes of rations.
“Hey, Jo,” muttered Sam, going back to his work. Jo sent him a nod, dropping the box she was carrying on the floor next to Inara, who gave her a look.
“Where’d you score all that?”
“Found a grocery store that wasn’t completely destroyed,” explained Jo. “Wasn’t crawling with anything either. Bobby picked a good place.”
“That seems to be the notion,” said Sam, reassembling the gun he had been cleaning and setting it down on the far left of the table. “He check in yet?”
“He checked in an hour ago,” said Holt, a hunter from Miami, mostly dealt with zombies and the occult, but he’d stayed alive this long. “Said he found about twenty hunters still in Indiana.”
“Good,” said Sam. Bobby hadn’t stayed for long in their little hideaway, not since Ellen had been killed. Sam didn’t even want to know what had been going on between the two of them, and Bobby wasn’t looking to tell the tale. Jo had tried to talk to him, but he wasn’t in the mood for talking. At least he wasn’t drinking anymore.
Inara nudged his shoulder with her hip, raising an eyebrow at him, like she knew what he was thinking. Sam sighed and stood up, taking Isaiah out of her arms and kissing her softly.
“I’m going to make sure our protection hasn’t been messed with,” said Sam, then turned his head to look at his son, giving him one of the smiles he saved especially for him. “Do you want to keep me company, buddy?”
“Sam, he’s not old enough-”
“Please, Momma?” asked Isaiah. “I’ll be good. Promise.”
“See, he promises,” said Sam, turning his smile onto Inara, who just about melted. “I wont take long.”
Inara swatted him across the shoulder, rolling her eyes and telling him to just go. Isaiah’s smile matched his fathers and he waved goodbye to her over his shoulder as Sam headed out of the house, passing by a few other refugee hunters who were dressing a few more serious wounds.
Sam shifted Isaiah onto his shoulders as he bounced down the gravel driveway to the edge of the forest. There were vampires and werewolves and all other kinds of creatures in this particular forest. Sam had made a deal with them. He’d protect them as best he could if they promised to stay the hell away from them. Lenore was the one leading the vampires and she had agreed wholeheartedly. She was the only one he trusted enough to let into the house to talk with. The werewolves were only allowed inside during the day time. Everyone agreed it was safer for everyone to stay together, protect themselves from demons and angels. A few of them wouldn’t have it, and they were asked to go, but most of them had listened to Sam (seeing as how he was nearly one of them) and kept their distance. More then a few of the hunters owned them their lives after a few close encounters.
So when Sam stopped at the edge of the woods, he knew there was something watching him, but he dismissed it as Lenore’s nest patrolling the edge of the forest. Sam pulled Isaiah off his shoulders, setting the giggling boy down on the ground next to him and started his work of fixing the devil’s traps, salt lines and so forth, vaguely aware of what Isaiah was doing. That was a mistake.
“You know, you really shouldn’t let kids wonder around in the woods,” Sam’s head shoot up, his hand automatically going to the gun in the waistband of his jeans. The man who had spoken had one of his hands on Isaiah’s shoulder, the other was holding a knife to his neck. Sam swallowed, slowly standing up, his gun trained on the man holding his kid. Sam didn’t replay with anything, his eyes darting from the man to Isaiah, who had tears in his eyes from the knife against his skin. “It’s dangerous.”
“Let him go,” pale blue eyes flashed black for a moment, confirming that he was a demon, and as soon as Isaiah was out of the way, his ass was grass. The flash of his eyes and the smirk were all he got in reply.
Sam raised his gun higher, his jaw shaking he was clenching his teeth so hard. “Let him go.”
“C’mon, Sammy,” said the demon, his blue eyes dancing with amusement. “I’m not going to hurt him.”
Sam faltered, blinking at the demon who had called him Sammy. Isaiah was staring up at him, hazel eyes brimming with tears and his shaggy hair making him look like a puppy.
“D-Dean?” the demon smiled at him, and Sam was unnerved at how unnatural it looked. It was forced. This wasn’t his brother anymore. Not entirely.
“Cute kid, Sam,” said Dean, turning his eyes back down to the kid, his hand still holding the knife to his neck, the soft flesh yielding to the shiny metal. Isaiah whimpered, his bottom lip shaking as he tried not to cry. The sound sent Sam’s eyes hard again, his arm straightening the gun in his hands.
“Let him go,” he said again. Dean didn’t look up at him, frowning down at Isaiah in mock confusion.
“What the hell is a baby doing in the middle of a war?”
“Dean, I swear to God-”
“Isn’t nice to swear to something real,” said Dean, not even flinching, running the blade of the knife across Isaiah’s shoulder, pushing his t-shirt away and drawing blood. Sam fired his gun at Dean, hitting him in the chest. Dean blinked and looked at the bullet hole and back to Sam again.
“You shot me,” he didn’t sound offended, he sounded amused. Sam very nearly growled. “This kid worth it? He ain‘t yours is he?”
“Let. Him. Go.”
The face that wasn’t really Dean’s split into a grin. An evil, nauseating grin that made Sam’s blood go cold and boil and rush into his ears. Isaiah was crying now, big fat tears sliding down his face and dripping into his t-shirt. Sam fought the urge to tell him it would be okay, to lie to his son.
“He is, isn’t he?” asked Dean wickedly. He won, and he knew it. “Drop the gun.”
“Dean-”
“Is said drop it!” his shouting startling Isaiah and making him cry harder. It fucking tore at Sam’s heart to see his baby like that, and his arm lowered, tossing his gun to the ground, just to prove he could be civil with a demon, because damn it if he didn‘t want to start crying too. Dean slide his knife back to Isaiah’s neck, his eyes just as hard as his brothers.
“You’re weak, bringing a child into this world. Just like Dad was,” said Dean, sneering at Sam, who was trying not to look at Isaiah. “You should have run when you had the chance.”
“You’re not going to hurt him,” said Sam, not believe his own words, especially not after Dean smirked at him in a way that almost reminded him of his Dean.
“No?”
“No.”
“You’re right,” said Dean softly, looking down at Isaiah, his free hand dropping on top of Isaiah’s head, ruffling the kid’s shaggy, almost curly, dark hair. “I’m not going to hurt him. I’m going to kill him.”
Dean’s eyes flickered black, snarling just behind his teeth, taking his knife and driving it into Isaiah’s back before Sam even had the chance to blink. He couldn’t breath, his head suddenly spinning, watching Isaiah’s hazel eyes widen in pain and smoke over, his little body falling to the ground at Dean’s feet.
Sam’s feet were moving of their own accord, his knees hitting the ground next to Isaiah’s body, his hands hovering over him as if he was afraid to touch him. His vision was blurry from the tears in his eyes, but they wouldn’t fall, not until he touched his son’s cold skin, then they were pouring down his checks and he couldn’t remember ever crying this hard in his life. Dean was still standing over him, staring down at Sam’s fallen form, eyes black and most defiantly not Dean. But it was.
Dean smirked, snorting at Sam, and let the knife in his hands fall from his fingers, hitting the ground. The dirt on the ground stuck to the blood on the blade, the sound too loud and causing Sam to look up at it, his eyes still blurred by tears.
Seeing his son’s blood on the ground had Sam on his feet again, his eyes flashing too close to yellow to be natural and suddenly Dean was choking, coughing up his own soul. Sam didn’t even bleed, he was too angry, like his fucking heart had been ripped out and replaced with something heavy and broken, the pieces sticking into him until he wanted to scream in pain. He watched Dean’s eyes go wide, realizing Sam was exorcising him.
“Sam-” it was a choked, helpless plea for his life, but Sam wasn’t listening. He could feel Isaiah’s blood on his hands, warm and wet. He hadn’t noticed it before.
The meat sack fell to the ground, lifeless and humming against the black smoke surrounding it before soaking into the earth. Sam’s knees hit the ground again, exhausted and feeling just as dead as the meat Dean had used. His eyes were clear as he looked down at Isaiah, his hands shaking as he reached out to pull his son into his arms, holding him against his chest. Blood soaked into his shirt and ran down his arms, drying thick against his skin.
Words couldn’t describe the pain, tears couldn’t even do it. Inara screamed in agony when Sam laid Isaiah out on the table, the hunters in their care dead silent as Inara‘s knees hit the floor after her legs gave out under her. He could barely say Dean’s name, and he wouldn’t comfort his wife. She didn’t need that, she needed a punching bag.
Jo had gathered Inara up in her arms, rocking back and forth as the woman who couldn’t die and wouldn’t die keened in her arms. Her voice sore and hoarse from tears that wouldn’t fall. Bobby had come back early, he was going to surprise them, but now wasn’t the time for hugs and welcome backs. The older man had found a white sheet, tucking it around Isaiah and closing his eyelids, barely touching him. Like he was made of spun glass and would break if too much pressure was applied. He looked like he was sleeping.
“Sam?” Jo was staring at him, her eyes brimming with tears. She had been close to Isaiah, they all had. It was hard not to love the boy, he was just made of sunshine. Sam’s eyes stayed downcast, his hair falling into his face. The hunters too afraid to talk to him when he was angry were standing behind her, guns in their hands, looking sad and angry for Sam and Inara. Sam finally looked up, his eyes burning into Jo’s, who nearly flinched from the intensity in them.
“We’re running.”
“What?”
“We’ve lost enough people, good people. Family, friends, children. We’ve tried our best but shen gai si shi wo men zhan zheng! Not anymore. I’m tired of it.”
Hunters were all for self sacrifice, but Sam was right, this wasn’t their battle, no matter how hard they tried to get involved they were just going to get killed. They weren’t hurting, but they sure as hell weren’t helping. They’d lost too much.
Sam moved to Inara’s side, around Jo, picking her up off the ground. She let him and he was relieved, wrapping her arms around his neck, burrowing her face in the slope of it. He held her close to him as the hunters around them moved to give them space, until only Jo and Bobby were left with them. Bobby put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and silently told him that he would take care of Isaiah until they could burry him. Jo nodded in the direction of the larger room at the other side of the house.
“We set up some beds a while ago. Lay her down in there.”
“Thanks, Jo,” said Sam softly. Jo nodded.
“Be careful.”
Sam didn’t really hear her, he just started walking, and frankly he couldn’t remember starting until he was kneeling in on of the bed against the wall, laying Inara down. He blinked and found himself with his arms still wrapped around her, his head buried in her hair (which was now sticking to his cheeks from his own tears). She pulled away from him suddenly and slapped him across the face, her eyes red.
“You promised you would keep him safe!” she screamed at him and slapped him again. “You let him die!”
Sam caught her feeble attempt to hit him again and pulled her back into his chest, wrapping his arms around her shoulders tightly.
“Don’t say that,” he started weakly, his voice cracking with pain. “Please, don’t ever say that.”
Inara wouldn’t look at him. Not after they said goodbye to Bobby and Jo and the rest of them and contacted the guild. Inara wouldn’t let him leave her, but she wouldn’t speak to him, still nearly inconsolable. He didn’t mind it. She let him hold her when they slept, and that was something. The guild provided them with a shuttle and supplies and told Inara to make contact with them in a place they were calling Sihnon.
“Inara?” Sam’s voice was soft, and in the shuttle they were in it startled her. He had been quiet most of the way, and up until now she hadn’t wanted to bother him and assumed he had felt the same about her. She looked back at him from her seat at the controls. His eyes were red and his hair was falling in his eyes, making him look like that monster everyone had made him out to be.
“Shi?” Inara frowned at him, concerned, before getting up and walking over to him. There was another couple in the shuttle with them, but they were keeping to themselves. Sam pressed his forehead against her abdomen when she stopped in front of him, and her hand tangled into his hair, her own eyes filling with tears at his action. “Baby?”
“I don’t want to die,” Inara felt her throat constrict at his words and she pulled away slightly, dropping to her knees in front of him.
“You don’t mean that,” she said softly, placing her hands on his face, pushing the hair out of his face. He nodded.
“Yes I do,” his voice cracked and broke. Inara closed her eyes, the tears in them falling down her cheeks. “I don’t want to die, not again.”
Inara clenched her teeth, squeezing her eyes tightly. She felt Sam’s fingers on her face, brushing away her tears. “I don’t want to leave you.”
She opened her eyes at his words, hands coming up to grip his wrists. Finally she nodded and stood up, going to her back. Her box was at the bottom of the bag, she watched the other occupations the whole time to make sure they weren’t watching them. She moved back to Sam, kneeing between his knees. His hands settled against her arms lightly. She’d shown him her elixir before, when he asked her once before if he could have it. He hadn’t meant it then, and she knew he didn’t, no w however…She slowly opened the lip of the box, the amber liquid shifting in it’s vial.
“I love you, Inara,” said Sam, watching her hesitate, her fingers brushing against the syringe. “I want this.”
She nodded, still not looking at him, but slightly more confidant in this. She made quick work, and looked up into Sam’s face as the drug started through his veins. He swallowed, and she knew the feeling; of something almost solid sliding through your veins and into your heart. She watched Sam’s eyes flicker in pain, and then heard him sigh in relief as the drug dissolved in his blood. And with that sigh he would never die again, not as long as she could prevent it.
.
“How the hell are we supposed to get him out if we’re on a spaceship?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Do you even use your brain?”
“Is that a figure of speech?”
“…you’re a complete moron,” Dean grumbled something back at her in Chinese, sulking for a moment as they tried to pass the time. The piece of go se ship they were on was quiet, everyone was in their bunks, which would make this easier to slaughter their man and drag his soul to hell where it belonged.
“I can’t believe I’m trapped on a firefly with you of all people.”
“Oh yeah, because your ego really doesn’t take up any space at all.”
“We’ve been in here for hours, I’m cranky and I want to go home. Can we just go?”
“Fine,” more grumbling, more shuffling and Dean and Bela (complete in meat suits) walked out onto the cargo bay, glaring at each other.
“Now where, genius?” asked Bela, folding her arms across her chest, waiting patiently for Dean to point the way.
“Passenger dorms,” he said, leaning the way. Bela kept glancing around, looking for solid place to throw people in case the situation presented itself. Dean stopped abruptly, his hand coming up to keep Bela from moving forward. She glanced at him, silently asking him what was wrong. He pointed in the direction of the rooms, watching one of the doors slide open and a raven haired girl stick her head out, blinking in the dark.
“See you,” she said, her voice sounding happy, like she was playing hide-n-seek. Dean rushed her, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her around against his chest, one hand coming up to cover her mouth, the other wrapping around the front of her chest. Bela swallowed.
“Now what?”
“Now you let her go,” the crackle of a laser gun had Bela and Dean turning around, slightly surprised to see a Shepherd standing behind them with a gun pointed in their directions. Dean gave him a look that said what the hell do you think you’re doing? in any language, and nodded towards his piece.
“Shoot me, I dare you.”
Bela rolled her eyes and gave Dean a look. “Would you stop fucking around? Kill them both and let’s go.”
“There wont be any killin’ here tonight.”
“That’s not what your gun says, preacher man,” said Dean. He looked down at River, stared her in the eyes and spoke very clearly. “If you scream, I’ll snap your neck. Dong ma?”
She nodded and Dean slowly moved his hand away from her face, but kept his other arm around her chest. The Shepherd raised his gun a little higher in Dean’s direction, his eyes narrowing.
“The deepest circle of hell will have a place waiting for you, if you touch one hair on that child’s head.”
Dean blinked at him and glanced over at Bela who wore the same expression as he did. A laugh caught in his throat and his head snapped back onto the Shepherd, eyes hard.
“Been there, done that. And let me tell you Shepherd, it’s…worse.”
“Telling the truth,” said River, staring at Book with her hair falling over her face. Dean pulled her closer to his chest, his hand splayed across her shoulder. “But you liked it.”
“We are going to have so much fun,” growled Dean, taking a few steps back, dragging River with him. Bela stayed in front of them, keeping a weary eye on the Shepherd as Dean retreated down the darkened hallway.
“Tell us where Sam is,” said Bela. “And I’ll spare both your lives.”
“You’ll let us go?” asked Book, glancing over at River. Bela smirked at him.
“I said I’d spare your lives. I said nothing about what he would do to you.”
Book hesitated, gauging his advantage against the two…demons. He might have been a man of the lord, but faith would not help him in this. He closed his eyes, giving up Sam, it was his only choice, the only thing he could do. One for the many.
“Walk out the way you came, on your left there’s a shuttle. He’ll be in there,” Dean’s eyebrows shot up, clearly not expecting an answer and loosened his grip on River, she let out a sigh of relief , feeling him relax behind her and let herself rest against him, something else that surprised him.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be,” said Dean seriously, looking down at her. She shook her head, eyes starring off into space.
“I trust you,” Dean’s arm dropped away from her body completely, staring at the back of her head in amusement.
“She trusts me, Bela,” Dean called over, looking at his very favorite woman. She snorted.
“Because you’re so trustworthy.”
“More than you,” said River, her back still pressing against Dean. He smirked and Bela rolled her eyes.
“Can we go get your brother now, Dean? I want to go home,” Dean nodded, taking one last look at River and then heading after Bela, stopping as just as he past Shepherd Book, leaning into the other man, giving him a thoughtful look.
“I’ll see you in Hell, Shepherd.”
Book stared after him, a grim expression on his face before he turned to River, walking over to her quickly and grabbing her arm. “Alert the captain,” he said softly in her ear, his grip tightened on his gun as she nodded, running off towards the captain’s quarters, her feet barely touching the ground as she ran, flew down to the captains room. Book’s eyes followed her out of habit, before a very dark look fell over his face and he headed after these demons.
They didn’t seem to get along very well, he mused to himself, bare feet padding along the cool metal, waiting for the moment he knew he wasn’t going to get. They came without guns, they cam without knifes, they came without poison, lasers or any sort of way to subdue Sam. They must have something to hold against him if they were going to go in there unarmed. Sam was a fairly large man, who looked like he knew how to fight, especially if Inara was in danger. Book swallowed and quickened his pace slightly, stopping just short of the corridor leading to Inara’s shuttle, watching as the male, Dean the other one called him, lift an arm, palm facing the shuttle door and blowing the door apart.
“You really don’t know how to be subtle do you?”
Book felt someone slide behind him and assumed it was the captain and River. Mal placed his hand on the older man’s shoulder, silently telling him to draw back and protect River if necessary. Both men looked up as the sound of metal hitting skin rang out, and they both drew out into the hallway, moving their guns up, ready to fire. The woman was holding her cheek, chuckling bitterly and muttering to herself about something they couldn’t hear. Sam stepped out of the shuttle, a knife held loosely in his hand. Dean felt a smirk slide onto his face, despite his feeling on the situation.
“Hi, Sammy.”
“Dean,” said Sam tightly, his fingers tightening around the knife. Dean noticed and chuckled.
“Don’t make me kick your ass, little brother”
“Brother?” said Mal before he could stop himself, mentally smacking himself in the face when Sam and those other two turned to look at him. “He doesn’t look a bite like your brother.”
“This is getting ridiculous,” said Bela rolling her eyes and moving a hand to her forehead. Sam blinked at her and moved his attention from Dean to her instantly.
“Bela?”
“Oh good, you remember me.”
“What the hell are you doing with Bela?” Sam muttered to Dean who sighed.
“Only one crazy enough to go with me.”
“You must have been desperate.”
“Sam, you realize this man is going to kill you?” said Book, his gun still raised, stepping forward slowly. “A man who called you his brother.”
“It’s complicated,” said Bela. “It’s very, very…complicated.”
“I’ve been hearin’ that word too often since you came on,” said Mal, talking to Sam. “Maybe you ought to leave with these nice people.”
“People?” snapped Bela, a sharp laugh catching in her throat. “We’re not people, Captain. I assume you’re the captain?”
“If you’re not people then what, pray tell, are you?”
“Demons,” all eyes snapped onto River.
“She is something,” said Dean, staring at River in awe, who stared at him with unblinking eyes, staring into his soul that made something human in him tighten. “Awfully pretty-”
“What in the good gorram is goin’ on?”
“Not now, Jayne.”
“Wait a tick, them is the people who attacked me and Sam.”
“You’ve been on my boat before?” asked Mal, suppressing the mighty strong urge to growl. “You attacked my crew and…well, you attacked Jayne and that ain’t a feat done lightly-”
“Easy enough,” said Bela smugly. “He went down like a rock.”
“Hey, can I shoot her, Mal?”
“Please?” said both Sam and Dean together.
“There will be no shootin’ less the situation presents.”
“C’mon, Mal,” whined Jayne.
“Won’t do any good,” said River, walking around the Shepherd and Mal to sit against the railing. “Can’t break s‘already broken.”
“Alright, I’m getting sick of talking,” said Dean suddenly, swinging out and catching Sam off guard with a punch to the gut and wrenching the knife out of his hands, tossing it to Bela. “Time for a walk, Sammy.”
“Don’t move.”
Dean froze, smelling the metal of a gun and the click of it’s safety being turned off. He looked up, emotion flickering in his eyes, hand moving away from Sam, who stumbled backwards into the wall of the ship as Inara stepped out of her shuttle, the Colt pointed at Dean’s chest.
“Inara?” breathed Dean, taking a step back. “Inara, it’s Dean-”
“I know who you are,” Inara interrupted bitterly, reaching out with her other hand to place on Sam’s shoulder, assuring herself that he was fine. Dean’s eyes hardened as he stopped on the gun she was pointing at him.
“You gonna kill me?”
“Thinking about it,” said Inara. “You should have stayed in Hell where you belonged.”
“And you should be dead, but it looks like neither of us are getting what we want,” spat Dean, the hopefulness, the happiness his eyes had held when he saw her vanishing. “Well, that’s not true. I’ll have Sam.”
“Sam‘s not going anywhere,” growled Inara.
“Hey now, let’s not be hasty-”
“No, Mal,” interrupted Inara loudly. “You have no idea what these boo hway-hun things are.”
“There’s no need to be racist,” said Bela sounding a little hurt. “All we want is Sam. Then you can go on living your extra long, whoring life.”
“Sam isn’t going anywhere,” said Inara again, not flinching at the whore comment. “Now go, or I will kill you for good.”
“We’re not going-”
The sound of Inara’s gun filled the ears of everyone, startling them out of their wits, eyes snapping onto Bela as her face crackled with light, singed skin around the bullet hole in her brain leaking with blood as the body fell to the ground. Dean blinked down at the woman who was no longer Bela and then back up at Inara, who swung the colt back onto him. He jumped slightly, taking a few steps back, his hands flying up in defense.
“C’mon, ‘Nara…” started Dean a smile flickering on his face. Inara’s face stayed blank, which seemed to piss Dean off, because he stopped backing up, his face going dark. “You would shoot me?!” he shouted, voice echoing off the walls. “Fuck, Inara, I thought I meant more to you than that.”
“You used to,” said Inara softly, her throat burning as tear started burning against her eyes.
“I thought…” Dean’s voice cracked and he chocked on his words, eyes forming with tears. “What changed?”
“You killed my son, Dean,” said Inara, trying not to cry in front of him. The arm holding the colt started to shake, a dull ache forming in her shoulder and she lifted her other arm, steadying her hands. “That’s why Sam sent you back to hell in the first place. You killed him!”
“It was an accident,” said Dean, his voice barely above a whisper, walking closer, ignoring the way she lifted her gun just a little higher. “I love you, Inara. I…I would never hurt you on purpose…”
“Liar,” said River softly, catching Inara off guard, her hear turning to where the girl was sitting on the ground, just as many tears in her eyes as Dean and Inara did. “He’s a liar.”
That hesitation was all Dean needed. He lunged for her, on hand wrapping around Inara’s wrist, the other around the gun. They struggled for a moment, neither one getting the upper hand, and no one was willing to try and help. Sam actually backed off as far as he would let himself, ready to protect the others if he needed too. He jumped as another shot went off, watched as Dean and Inara both froze, eyes wide, staring at the other. Inara looked down at her abdomen, watching blood seep through the silk of her robe, the hand holding the gun falling away, dropping against her abdomen, her mouth falling open in agony that she couldn’t feel yet, blood running across her splayed fingers.
“Inara!”
Sam’s scream echoed through the ship, sounding muted in Inara’s ears. She looked up into Dean’s eyes, saw the horror etched onto his face, letting himself be throw back as Sam saw to Inara, one of his hands joining hers against her stomach, the other sliding around her waist just in case her legs went out.
“Simon!” screamed River, still sitting on the ground. It was a wonder that the entire crew wasn’t up and in their little passageway to investigate. Sam turned to look at Mal, his mouth open to ask for help, but stopped as he saw the man staring at them in shock, unable to believe what was happening.
“Mal!” shouted Sam, snapping the captain out of his stupor. He blinked at Sam. “I need your help!”
Book started forward after Mal refused to respond, moving around to Inara’s other side and pushing back her hair.
“Inara, can you hear me?”
“He…Dean, he-” Inara gasped in pain, leaning into Sam’s arm as Book continued to talk to her. Simon appeared in the hallway, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when he spotted Inara and immediately went to her side.
“What happened?”
“She was shot,” said Book, backing away to let Simon do his work. He looked over at Dean, bracing himself on the metal railing, staring wide eyed at Inara, his face pale and in shock.
“We need to get her to the infirmary,” said Simon, taking a step back to let Sam carry her to med bay. He turned to ask Book something else when his eyes fell on the woman lying dead on the ground. “What the hell happened?”
“Talk later,” shouted River, climbing to her feet, Simon looked at her and nodded, taking one last look at the woman who used to be Bela and followed Sam into the infirmary. He pushed past Sam, undoing the tie holding her robe together and letting the fabric fall away.
“This isn’t good,” he muttered to himself, He glancing over his shoulder at Sam. “I need to dope her. Get me a sedative.”
Sam did as he was told, passing over the pressure needle and whatever else Simon needed from him, staying in the shadows as Simon did his job. Simon made quick work, removing the bullet without a hitch, wincing at the wreckage the bullet had done.
“What the hell kind of weapon was this?” asked Simon, as he began patching up her insides.
“A colt made back on Earth-That-Was,” said Sam. “Roughly six hundred years old.”
“What is a gun like that…” Simon trailed off, but continued to work.
Timed seemed to slow down, what felt like a century passing by, when Sam knew it was only hours. Simon sighed as he finished, stitching up the wound. Sam had stayed the whole time, and eventually other walked in as well. Zoë and Wash stopped by the door for a few minutes to watch Simon work. Kaylee had walked in with tears in her eyes and Sam let her drop her head against his shoulder. She was the only other one who stayed, neither of them talking. Shepherd Book stopped in frequently with his bible, silently saying a prayer whenever he did. Sam wondered briefly what they did with Dean. They wouldn’t kill him on the spot, he had a feeling the Shepherd wouldn’t take to kindly to that. Probably threw him in a room somewhere with Jayne. Sam looked up at Simon, hope shining in his eyes.
“She’ll be okay?”
“I wont know for sure until she stabilizes,” said Simon quietly. “To be honest, it doesn’t look good.”
Sam felt Kaylee stiffen next to him and his arm slid around her shoulders comfortingly, pulling her closer. He involuntarily thought back to Isaiah, watching the little boy in his arms die, eyes wide and fogged and staring at him…had decided right then and there that he wasn’t going to let that happen to Inara. Never. He swallowed, an idea suddenly gripping at his brain. He pulled away from Kaylee and headed out of the infirmary, ignoring Kaylee calling his name. He pushed past Zoë who had been hovering to wait on news, ignored her askin’ him if everything was okay.
They had moved Bela’s meat sack, the blood gone from the metal floor. Sam didn’t dwell on it, continuing into Inara’s shuttle and immediately going through her things. The most logical place to keep it would have been in her dresser, where she had kept the gun and everything else precious to her. He noticed absently that there was a picture missing from the drawer as he pulled out the vignetted box, flipping the lip up to make sure the syringe and vial were there. He picked it up gingerly, watching the opaque liquid move of its own volition for a moment before spinning on his heel and heading back to the infirmary.
He passed by Zoë, still looking shell shocked from being brushed off earlier and didn’t bother him as he passed, heading into the med bay. Simon gave him a look Sam ignored, simply turning Inara’s arm over and pressing the needle into the flesh of her skin, vaguely hearing Simon’s shouts of protest, Kaylee screaming at him as to what he was doing. He pulled the need out after administering a small amount (he knew she didn’t need much, he was guaranteed she would live, that’s what mattered) stepping back from his tai tai and waited.
“What the hell did you do?” shouted Simon, taking a menacing step towards him. Sam held up his hand, his eyes still on Inara, watching her eyes flicker. Simon followed his gaze, a deep frown forming on his face as he moved back to Inara’s side, checking her vitals.
“What on earth…?”
“She’ll be fine,” said Sam, letting a breath of relief he hadn’t know he’d been holding, his eyes sliding closed. “She’ll be fine.”
“What the hell did you give her?”
“When she wakes up, we’ll tell you,” said Sam softly, opening his eyes and moving to Inara’s side, slipping his hand into her, watching her face for signs of movement. “Tell the other’s she’s fine. She’ll be up and about in a few hours.”
“Mal’s going to be furious that you got her shot,” warned Simon, pulling his surgical gloves off his hands. Sam snorted at his words, his eyes never leaving Inara.
“I got her shot? Maybe, but he’s the one who didn’t move to help her.”
“Captain won’t take lightly to you talking go se about him,” said Zoë from the door way. “Less then him puttin’ up with your secrects for so long.”
“Hey, I’m all for truthfulness. You‘re in the dark for your own good but…” Sam trailed off, the pad of his thumb moving over the back of Inara’s hand and he sighed. “Dean’s the only one who’s gotten her to mention anything of her old life.”
“Yeah, what this about a son?” asked Wash, coming up behind his wife, leaning his arm against the doorway. Sam bristled, feeling those old wounds coming apart in his chest and he tried not to snap at Wash that it was none of his fucking business but in all reality they had made it their business. Blinking a few times he opened his mouth to try and explain it away, but his silence had alerted Zoë that this was a subject he really didn’t want to discus.
“It can wait, dear,” said Zoë, watching Sam look up at her, thanking her silently. She nodded and shooed her husband away, telling him to go play with his dinosaurs, then walked into the infirmary, eyeing the doc and Kaylee warily before speaking to Sam, her voice low. “We all heard the commotion. Thought it would be best if we didn’t make things more complicated by makin’ our presence known.”
“You heard everything?’
“Just made us more confused then before,” said Zoë. “You two really do have a history, don’t you?”
“It’s long and complicated,” said Sam with a smirk. It faded after a moment as a thought came to him. “Where did you put Dean? The gun and the knife Inara and I have, they’ll kill him if he tries to hurt anyone, but that‘s the only way-”
“River’s lookin’ after him in one of the empty room,” interrupted Zoë. “Said she wanted to learn.”
“Oh,” said Sam, deflating slightly. “River ‘ll be able to sift though the bullshit. Better than Jayne.”
“Anything’s better than Jayne,” agreed Zoë. Her gaze fell to the syringe in his hand. “What did you give her?’
“Life.”
Zoë frowned, but watched as Sam turned back to Inara and she knew she wasn’t going to get anything else out of him. Not yet anyways. She groaned inwardly, thinking back to the argument the whole crew had heard. She had told Jayne not to go messing in things he shouldn’t be messing in, but the overly large man wouldn’t listen, followed the captain and River. She followed next after Wash had bounced about and whined about not wanting to miss anything. He was such a child sometimes. Simon had curled up in his bed and tried not to listen, especially after that first gun shot. He figured if anyone needed him they would call him. Kaylee called him a spoil sport and went off to listen with Wash and Zoë.
Zoë knew it had been a bad idea when Inara started talking about her son. Something in the pit of her stomach twisted dangerously, and she closed her eyes and tried to ignore the way Kaylee gasped, whispering such things like ‘A baby? Inara’s a got baby?’. Then there was more shoutin’ another gunshot and everything got real quiet for a moment, and that dread was uncoiling in the pit of Zoë stomach and spreading through her body. She knew before Sam started screaming her name that it was Inara been hit. River shouted for Simon and Kaylee ran off to get him, draggin’ him from his bed half naked, trying not to fall over his feet as Kaylee pushed him out on front of her then fell back next to Wash and Zoë, bringing her hand up to her mouth and chewing on her thumb nail.
Zoë sighed and backed out of the infirmary, intent of looking for Mal and keeping him from shouting at Sam. She had a feeling the poor man wouldn’t be able to take that, not with his wife being shot and his brother doin’ the shootin’.
Zoë stopped at the door to Mal‘s bunk, folding her arms over her chest.
“Captain? Inara’s fine. Sam gave her something, she’ll be right as rain in a few hours,” she was rewarded with silence, sighed and continued. “They don’t deserve any trouble. Don’t go accusing them of anything ‘til we’ve got our story. Is that understood, sir?”
“Since when are you giving orders?”
“Since you decided to start pouting in your bunk, sir,” Mal grumbled from inside his room and the door hissed open, Mal climbing up, still muttering. He closed his eyes as his boots hit topside, eyes hard and angry, looking at Zoë with a kind of determination that scared her.
“Tell the crew we’re to meet in mess when Inara’s up. I want this squared away, and I ain’t looking for any excuses. I want explaining, and that’s what I’ll get.”
“Yes, sir,” Zoe nodded at her captain and headed off, back to find the others. Near exactly an hour later had Sam and Inara standing together in front of the table, Inara holding her abdomen lightly where she’d been shot. She looked up at Sam, who sighed, getting that she wanted him to start it up.
“We were born over five hundred years ago,” began Sam, standing next to Inara. “On Earth-That-Was. I was born in a state called Kansas, Inara a place called New York. We met through Dean. She was one of the founding members of the companion’s Guild, I was a hunter. We fought the things that go bump in the night. I still do. Werewolf’s, ghosts, demons and a whole mess of other scary things. My brother and I…there was a war. We were in the middle of it. Dean sold his soul to bring me back to life and in turn an angel pulled him out of Hell. He was dragged back by a demon called Alistair. There was a demon trying to bring Lucifer to Earth. She succeeded, more or less. Inara and I were in that war, as hunters we were trying to kill as many demons as we could. We lost considerably, and the world turned to drastic measures. Leaving the planet and searching for new ones.”
“There was a drug, an elixir,” said Inara, taking up from where Sam stopped. “It could keep you from dying, aging at all. The guild contacted Sam’s father and that’s how I met Dean. The elixir was real, though it took a few years to actually notice it. I don’t get sick, I don’t age. It doesn’t take a lot to do the job. Sam and I, we really are complicated, you have to understand. We’ve been though centuries together…”
“Get to the part where you have a kid,” said Jayne, the rest of the crew sent him glares, watching as Inara and Sam visible winced. Inara swallowed the lump in her throat, groping blindly for Sam’s hand, clutching at his wrist.
“There’s no coming back from losing a child,” said Sam softly. “Isaiah was three when the war really started. The one between Haven and Hell. He was k-killed by Dean. He was…I sent him back to Hell without thinking twice.”
“Couldn’t he have just gotten out again?” asked Jayne. Sam shook his head.
“There’s a reason it’s called the pit,” said Sam. “It’s not easy to get out, unless you have permission or crawl out. And there’s always a more powerful demon wanting to get out. The 66 seals were unlocked and Lucifer walked Earth.”
“The only word to describe the carnage is apocalypse,” said Inara. “By the time angels and demons were walking freely, most of Earth’s population was seeking space. Those who stayed-”
“Died. In fire and bright lights. Their skin melted off. The religious cried cleansing, right before they were dismembered by a passing demon. As hunters, we tried our best, but-”
“We were outnumbered 1,000 to one,” said Inara. “There were some recruits, but in the end only a handful of us made it off Earth alive.”
“The only reason I’m still alive is because of Inara,” said Sam. “You die once and you never want to again.”
“What about the angels?” asked Book. Sam sighed wearily.
“They’re no better than demons. They’re dicks, all of them. They think humans are below them and demons are even lower. They blasted towns with demons and people in them. We lost more hunters to angels than we did to demons.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Nothing about our war makes sense, preacher,” said Sam. “Don’t take it against your faith. I still believe. Even after everything that happened.”
“So, what’s Dean doin’ out of Hell if it’s so hard gettin’ out? Why’s he after you?” asked Kaylee.
“I put him there,” said Sam. “It’s…personal, when I send someone back to hell.”
“He can kill you with his brain,” said River from the doorway. Sam tried not to grin at her, shaking his head.
“She’s got the idea,” said Sam, the humor sliding off and away from him and he looked at the crew very seriously. “I can kill you with my brain.”
Inara elbowed him in the ribs and told him to stop messing around. Her eyes fell onto Mal, who hadn’t said anything, he’d stayed eerily quiet the entire time. Sam glanced down at her and followed her gaze with a frown. His eyes stopped on Mal and he nodded, jaw clenching and pulling his hand away from Inara’s.
“I’m going to go send Dean back to hell,” said Sam under his breath. Wash perked up.
“Can we watch?” Sam grimaced.
“I you want too. I mean…it’s not pretty.”
“Lot’s of dao chu fen,” said River. “He wont be happy.”
“It’s gotta be done, mei mei,” said Sam, brushing past Inara and heading off to where they were keeping Dean. River followed him and soon after Jayne and Wash stood up from there chairs and followed as well.
“Do you think there’ll be magic?” asked Wash, his voice fading off. Book glanced between Inara and Mal and stood up, giving Kaylee a warm smile.
“Why don’t we see if we can’t find some food, make us all a proper breakfast.”
“I think I’ll pass,” said Simon, standing up. “I’m feeling pretty exhausted.”
“’Night, Simon,” said Kaylee, waving goodnight to him before following Book behind the counter to start breakfast preparations.
“Mal, I know you’re upset about this-”
“Who’s upset?” asked Mal. “Ours is strictly a business arrangement, as long as you pay me every month you can keep all the secrets you want.”
Inara’s face went blank and she nodded, turning away from the captain and heading off to find Sam to see if he needed any help. Zoë shook her head after her, Mal looked at her and frowned.
“What?”
“You really are an idiot, sir,” she said casually.
“I suppose I should give this back,” said Mal, pulling the picture of Inara, Sam and Isaiah out of his coat pocket, holding it in front of his face. Zoë looked over at him.
“You steal that, sir?”
“Might have,” said Mal, not noticing as Kaylee walked up behind him, looking over his shoulder at the photograph.
“How come it ain’t movin’?”
“Taken a couple of centuries ago, little one,” said Zoë. Kaylee tilted her head to the side, still looking at the picture.
“Ain’t he precious,” said Kaylee. “How come you gots it, Cap?”
“He stole it,” said Zoë. Kaylee frowned and reached out, plucking the picture from Mal’s hand.
“They look so happy,” said Kaylee, practically exploding with joy as she traced the faces of the people in the photo with her fingertips. “Shame what happened.”
“Yeah, real tragedy,” said Mal standing up and taking the photo back from Kaylee who made a noise of protest. “Should really get it back to them before they notice-”
Mal was interrupted by a scream, ringing out through the ship. He hadn’t heard screams like that since the war, and immediately took off, Zoë close behind. The two headed in the direction of the screams, pushing past a shell shocked Wash. Mal blinked, staring at Sam who had his arm stretched out in front of him, blood seeping from his nose. Dean had his head thrown back, eyes black, mouth hanging open, spewing something that looked like black smoke up into the air. It stopped suddenly and the man who had once been Dean slumped over in his chair.
Then all eyes were on Sam again, who moved his outstretched arm to his face, wiping the blood off with the back of his hand, then moving forward to check the man’s pulse.
“He’s alive,” said Sam quietly, his hand falling back to his side. “Go get Simon, he’ll need to look him over.”
“I’ll get him,” said Zoë, backing away from the scene and hurryin’ off to grab the doc. Inara moved to Sam’s side, wiping the rest of the blood off his face.
“You’re alright?” Sam nodded. “Been awhile since you did that?”
“Kinda rusty,” said Sam with a grin. “But, hey, it’s like riding a bike.”
“Was anyone hurt?” asked Simon, walking up to them, Zoë close behind.
“River was thrown across the room,” piped up Jayne.
“River-”
“She deserved it,” interrupted River, shaking her head and dismissing the concern. “He was angry at her.”
“The things he said,” began Inara, looking at Jayne and River. “They’re lies. Demons can read minds, and Dean, he was a good friend.”
Jayne looked uncomfortable, like he wanted to say something but was holding back. If it was any concerns about what Dean had said, Sam was thankful. He really didn’t want the crew to worry about Dean coming back and killing them all. He glanced at Wash.
“Do you know how far we are from Osiris?”
“Maybe another half a day,” he said with a shrug. “Why?”
“Old friend there,” said Sam. “A demon named Ruby. She’ll make sure Dean stays gone.”
“Did he just use the words ‘demon’ and ‘friend’ in the same sentence?” asked Wash, pointing at Sam and looking at Zoë and Mal.
“She’s not like the others,” said Inara. “She wont hurt us.”
“I’m not taking any chances,” said Mal. “If she takes one step onto this boat, you two are getting thrown off. Is that clear?”
“Ming bai,” said Sam. “She doesn’t like space anyways. Too dark. Inara and I’ll meet her when we land.”
“Whoa, hey now, Inara ain’t goin’ anywhere,” said Mal. Inara frowned at him.
“Of course I am.”
“You were just shot,” Mal reminded her. Inara rolled her eyes.
“And now I’m all better.”
“I don’t think it’s-”
“Mal, don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. It’s not your job. I know what I can handle.”
Inara turned and headed off, leaving Mal staring after her with his jaw set, fuming, his hand nearly crushing around the picture in his hand. Sam noticed and frowned, taking a step forward.
“Where did you get that?” he asked, his eyes focused on the photo in Mal’s hand. He loosened his grip, looking down at the photo, his heart speeding up. Sam’s frown deepened and he repeated his question, a little more forcefully.
“I found it,” said Mal, not exactly lying.
“Inara wouldn’t leave that around,” said Sam, suddenly feeling very, very angry. “Give it back.”
“I was planning on it.”
“Where did you find it?” asked Sam, reaching out for the photo. Mal hesitated before handing it over, ignoring the looks he was getting from Simon and Zoë.
“Just found it,” Sam looked down at the picture, his chest tightening slightly.
“Just found it,” repeated Sam softly, his thumb moving over Isaiah’s face. “You go through her shuttle and just find things a lot?”
“Not usually, no,” said Mal, his jaw setting as his anger flared. “But you was keeping secrets and I don’t like that.”
“The secret is that’s my son,” Sam shouted, his teeth clenching. “And it doesn’t belong to you.”
“I’m sorry,” said Mal, as Sam walked off. He stopped and shook his head slightly, teeth grinding together.
“Tui nin dao qian nin ba, Mal,” said Sam softly, continuing on. “I don’t want it.”
* translations - bao bei - sweetheart / shen gai si shi wo men zhan zheng - God damn it, this isn’t our war / shi - yes / go se - crap / boo hway-hun - remorseless / tai tai - wife / dao chu fen - black shit everywhere / ming bai - clear / tui nin dao qian nin ba - shove your apology up your ass
Author(s): darkmagic-luvr
Crossover: Supernatural/Firefly
Disclaimer: I do not own Firefly or Supernatural. Any characters you don't recognize are my own and should not be used without my permission.
Type: het
Word Count: Part III - 9,046
Characters/Pairings: Part III - Inara Serra, Mal Reynolds, Sam Winchester, Simon Tam, River Tam, Jayne Cobb, Kaylee Frye, Shepherd Book, Zoë Alleyne Washburne, Hoban Washburne, Dean Winchester, Bela Talbot, Jo Harvelle, Bobby Singer, Isaiah Winchester
Warnings: sex, lanuage, violence, death
Spoilers: the Firefly 'verse and through the beginning of season 4 of Supernatural
Artist: quiet-reble
Link to Art: here
Summary: Inara never wanted to die, and with the help of the Winchesters she hadn't for over 500 years. When an old friend and lover walks back into her life, she has to open her closet and face her skeletons, whether either of them want to.
Author’s Notes: Chinese translations at the bottom.
(PART III)
Three years. Three fucking years had gone by. Inara had been right. The pain of loosing Dean again was now an unpleasant throb, but he could go one day to the next without wanting to kill himself over the grief he felt. Surprisingly, nothing much had changed. There wasn’t some bang sending the entire planet into darkness. Then again, most of the world had left by now.
“Up,” Sam glanced down at his son from where he was cleaning his guns on the table, amusement spreading over his face as Isaiah lifted his arms, waiting for his father to pick him up. Sam sighed, tossing his cleaning rag onto the table in front of him and reaching down to scoop Isaiah into his arms, grinning as the boy giggled.
“He has you wrapped around his finger, bao bei,” said Inara, laughing at Sam as he bounced Isaiah on his knee. He looked up at her, trying to keep his face looking offended and failing only slightly, his eyes twinkling.
“Must have inherited your feminine wiles,” said Sam. Inara cuffed him across the back of the head before wrapping her arms around her son’s waist and picking him up.
“Daddy’s a nut job,” cooed Inara, combing her fingers through Isaiah’s hair as his head rested against her shoulder. Sam rolled his eyes and went back to cleaning his guns. The door behind them burst open, causing Sam to go for one of his guns not taken apart, aiming it at the door, only to lower it with a sigh as Jo and about six other hunters walked in, carrying boxes of rations.
“Hey, Jo,” muttered Sam, going back to his work. Jo sent him a nod, dropping the box she was carrying on the floor next to Inara, who gave her a look.
“Where’d you score all that?”
“Found a grocery store that wasn’t completely destroyed,” explained Jo. “Wasn’t crawling with anything either. Bobby picked a good place.”
“That seems to be the notion,” said Sam, reassembling the gun he had been cleaning and setting it down on the far left of the table. “He check in yet?”
“He checked in an hour ago,” said Holt, a hunter from Miami, mostly dealt with zombies and the occult, but he’d stayed alive this long. “Said he found about twenty hunters still in Indiana.”
“Good,” said Sam. Bobby hadn’t stayed for long in their little hideaway, not since Ellen had been killed. Sam didn’t even want to know what had been going on between the two of them, and Bobby wasn’t looking to tell the tale. Jo had tried to talk to him, but he wasn’t in the mood for talking. At least he wasn’t drinking anymore.
Inara nudged his shoulder with her hip, raising an eyebrow at him, like she knew what he was thinking. Sam sighed and stood up, taking Isaiah out of her arms and kissing her softly.
“I’m going to make sure our protection hasn’t been messed with,” said Sam, then turned his head to look at his son, giving him one of the smiles he saved especially for him. “Do you want to keep me company, buddy?”
“Sam, he’s not old enough-”
“Please, Momma?” asked Isaiah. “I’ll be good. Promise.”
“See, he promises,” said Sam, turning his smile onto Inara, who just about melted. “I wont take long.”
Inara swatted him across the shoulder, rolling her eyes and telling him to just go. Isaiah’s smile matched his fathers and he waved goodbye to her over his shoulder as Sam headed out of the house, passing by a few other refugee hunters who were dressing a few more serious wounds.
Sam shifted Isaiah onto his shoulders as he bounced down the gravel driveway to the edge of the forest. There were vampires and werewolves and all other kinds of creatures in this particular forest. Sam had made a deal with them. He’d protect them as best he could if they promised to stay the hell away from them. Lenore was the one leading the vampires and she had agreed wholeheartedly. She was the only one he trusted enough to let into the house to talk with. The werewolves were only allowed inside during the day time. Everyone agreed it was safer for everyone to stay together, protect themselves from demons and angels. A few of them wouldn’t have it, and they were asked to go, but most of them had listened to Sam (seeing as how he was nearly one of them) and kept their distance. More then a few of the hunters owned them their lives after a few close encounters.
So when Sam stopped at the edge of the woods, he knew there was something watching him, but he dismissed it as Lenore’s nest patrolling the edge of the forest. Sam pulled Isaiah off his shoulders, setting the giggling boy down on the ground next to him and started his work of fixing the devil’s traps, salt lines and so forth, vaguely aware of what Isaiah was doing. That was a mistake.
“You know, you really shouldn’t let kids wonder around in the woods,” Sam’s head shoot up, his hand automatically going to the gun in the waistband of his jeans. The man who had spoken had one of his hands on Isaiah’s shoulder, the other was holding a knife to his neck. Sam swallowed, slowly standing up, his gun trained on the man holding his kid. Sam didn’t replay with anything, his eyes darting from the man to Isaiah, who had tears in his eyes from the knife against his skin. “It’s dangerous.”
“Let him go,” pale blue eyes flashed black for a moment, confirming that he was a demon, and as soon as Isaiah was out of the way, his ass was grass. The flash of his eyes and the smirk were all he got in reply.
Sam raised his gun higher, his jaw shaking he was clenching his teeth so hard. “Let him go.”
“C’mon, Sammy,” said the demon, his blue eyes dancing with amusement. “I’m not going to hurt him.”
Sam faltered, blinking at the demon who had called him Sammy. Isaiah was staring up at him, hazel eyes brimming with tears and his shaggy hair making him look like a puppy.
“D-Dean?” the demon smiled at him, and Sam was unnerved at how unnatural it looked. It was forced. This wasn’t his brother anymore. Not entirely.
“Cute kid, Sam,” said Dean, turning his eyes back down to the kid, his hand still holding the knife to his neck, the soft flesh yielding to the shiny metal. Isaiah whimpered, his bottom lip shaking as he tried not to cry. The sound sent Sam’s eyes hard again, his arm straightening the gun in his hands.
“Let him go,” he said again. Dean didn’t look up at him, frowning down at Isaiah in mock confusion.
“What the hell is a baby doing in the middle of a war?”
“Dean, I swear to God-”
“Isn’t nice to swear to something real,” said Dean, not even flinching, running the blade of the knife across Isaiah’s shoulder, pushing his t-shirt away and drawing blood. Sam fired his gun at Dean, hitting him in the chest. Dean blinked and looked at the bullet hole and back to Sam again.
“You shot me,” he didn’t sound offended, he sounded amused. Sam very nearly growled. “This kid worth it? He ain‘t yours is he?”
“Let. Him. Go.”
The face that wasn’t really Dean’s split into a grin. An evil, nauseating grin that made Sam’s blood go cold and boil and rush into his ears. Isaiah was crying now, big fat tears sliding down his face and dripping into his t-shirt. Sam fought the urge to tell him it would be okay, to lie to his son.
“He is, isn’t he?” asked Dean wickedly. He won, and he knew it. “Drop the gun.”
“Dean-”
“Is said drop it!” his shouting startling Isaiah and making him cry harder. It fucking tore at Sam’s heart to see his baby like that, and his arm lowered, tossing his gun to the ground, just to prove he could be civil with a demon, because damn it if he didn‘t want to start crying too. Dean slide his knife back to Isaiah’s neck, his eyes just as hard as his brothers.
“You’re weak, bringing a child into this world. Just like Dad was,” said Dean, sneering at Sam, who was trying not to look at Isaiah. “You should have run when you had the chance.”
“You’re not going to hurt him,” said Sam, not believe his own words, especially not after Dean smirked at him in a way that almost reminded him of his Dean.
“No?”
“No.”
“You’re right,” said Dean softly, looking down at Isaiah, his free hand dropping on top of Isaiah’s head, ruffling the kid’s shaggy, almost curly, dark hair. “I’m not going to hurt him. I’m going to kill him.”
Dean’s eyes flickered black, snarling just behind his teeth, taking his knife and driving it into Isaiah’s back before Sam even had the chance to blink. He couldn’t breath, his head suddenly spinning, watching Isaiah’s hazel eyes widen in pain and smoke over, his little body falling to the ground at Dean’s feet.
Sam’s feet were moving of their own accord, his knees hitting the ground next to Isaiah’s body, his hands hovering over him as if he was afraid to touch him. His vision was blurry from the tears in his eyes, but they wouldn’t fall, not until he touched his son’s cold skin, then they were pouring down his checks and he couldn’t remember ever crying this hard in his life. Dean was still standing over him, staring down at Sam’s fallen form, eyes black and most defiantly not Dean. But it was.
Dean smirked, snorting at Sam, and let the knife in his hands fall from his fingers, hitting the ground. The dirt on the ground stuck to the blood on the blade, the sound too loud and causing Sam to look up at it, his eyes still blurred by tears.
Seeing his son’s blood on the ground had Sam on his feet again, his eyes flashing too close to yellow to be natural and suddenly Dean was choking, coughing up his own soul. Sam didn’t even bleed, he was too angry, like his fucking heart had been ripped out and replaced with something heavy and broken, the pieces sticking into him until he wanted to scream in pain. He watched Dean’s eyes go wide, realizing Sam was exorcising him.
“Sam-” it was a choked, helpless plea for his life, but Sam wasn’t listening. He could feel Isaiah’s blood on his hands, warm and wet. He hadn’t noticed it before.
The meat sack fell to the ground, lifeless and humming against the black smoke surrounding it before soaking into the earth. Sam’s knees hit the ground again, exhausted and feeling just as dead as the meat Dean had used. His eyes were clear as he looked down at Isaiah, his hands shaking as he reached out to pull his son into his arms, holding him against his chest. Blood soaked into his shirt and ran down his arms, drying thick against his skin.
Words couldn’t describe the pain, tears couldn’t even do it. Inara screamed in agony when Sam laid Isaiah out on the table, the hunters in their care dead silent as Inara‘s knees hit the floor after her legs gave out under her. He could barely say Dean’s name, and he wouldn’t comfort his wife. She didn’t need that, she needed a punching bag.
Jo had gathered Inara up in her arms, rocking back and forth as the woman who couldn’t die and wouldn’t die keened in her arms. Her voice sore and hoarse from tears that wouldn’t fall. Bobby had come back early, he was going to surprise them, but now wasn’t the time for hugs and welcome backs. The older man had found a white sheet, tucking it around Isaiah and closing his eyelids, barely touching him. Like he was made of spun glass and would break if too much pressure was applied. He looked like he was sleeping.
“Sam?” Jo was staring at him, her eyes brimming with tears. She had been close to Isaiah, they all had. It was hard not to love the boy, he was just made of sunshine. Sam’s eyes stayed downcast, his hair falling into his face. The hunters too afraid to talk to him when he was angry were standing behind her, guns in their hands, looking sad and angry for Sam and Inara. Sam finally looked up, his eyes burning into Jo’s, who nearly flinched from the intensity in them.
“We’re running.”
“What?”
“We’ve lost enough people, good people. Family, friends, children. We’ve tried our best but shen gai si shi wo men zhan zheng! Not anymore. I’m tired of it.”
Hunters were all for self sacrifice, but Sam was right, this wasn’t their battle, no matter how hard they tried to get involved they were just going to get killed. They weren’t hurting, but they sure as hell weren’t helping. They’d lost too much.
Sam moved to Inara’s side, around Jo, picking her up off the ground. She let him and he was relieved, wrapping her arms around his neck, burrowing her face in the slope of it. He held her close to him as the hunters around them moved to give them space, until only Jo and Bobby were left with them. Bobby put his hand on Sam’s shoulder and silently told him that he would take care of Isaiah until they could burry him. Jo nodded in the direction of the larger room at the other side of the house.
“We set up some beds a while ago. Lay her down in there.”
“Thanks, Jo,” said Sam softly. Jo nodded.
“Be careful.”
Sam didn’t really hear her, he just started walking, and frankly he couldn’t remember starting until he was kneeling in on of the bed against the wall, laying Inara down. He blinked and found himself with his arms still wrapped around her, his head buried in her hair (which was now sticking to his cheeks from his own tears). She pulled away from him suddenly and slapped him across the face, her eyes red.
“You promised you would keep him safe!” she screamed at him and slapped him again. “You let him die!”
Sam caught her feeble attempt to hit him again and pulled her back into his chest, wrapping his arms around her shoulders tightly.
“Don’t say that,” he started weakly, his voice cracking with pain. “Please, don’t ever say that.”
Inara wouldn’t look at him. Not after they said goodbye to Bobby and Jo and the rest of them and contacted the guild. Inara wouldn’t let him leave her, but she wouldn’t speak to him, still nearly inconsolable. He didn’t mind it. She let him hold her when they slept, and that was something. The guild provided them with a shuttle and supplies and told Inara to make contact with them in a place they were calling Sihnon.
“Inara?” Sam’s voice was soft, and in the shuttle they were in it startled her. He had been quiet most of the way, and up until now she hadn’t wanted to bother him and assumed he had felt the same about her. She looked back at him from her seat at the controls. His eyes were red and his hair was falling in his eyes, making him look like that monster everyone had made him out to be.
“Shi?” Inara frowned at him, concerned, before getting up and walking over to him. There was another couple in the shuttle with them, but they were keeping to themselves. Sam pressed his forehead against her abdomen when she stopped in front of him, and her hand tangled into his hair, her own eyes filling with tears at his action. “Baby?”
“I don’t want to die,” Inara felt her throat constrict at his words and she pulled away slightly, dropping to her knees in front of him.
“You don’t mean that,” she said softly, placing her hands on his face, pushing the hair out of his face. He nodded.
“Yes I do,” his voice cracked and broke. Inara closed her eyes, the tears in them falling down her cheeks. “I don’t want to die, not again.”
Inara clenched her teeth, squeezing her eyes tightly. She felt Sam’s fingers on her face, brushing away her tears. “I don’t want to leave you.”
She opened her eyes at his words, hands coming up to grip his wrists. Finally she nodded and stood up, going to her back. Her box was at the bottom of the bag, she watched the other occupations the whole time to make sure they weren’t watching them. She moved back to Sam, kneeing between his knees. His hands settled against her arms lightly. She’d shown him her elixir before, when he asked her once before if he could have it. He hadn’t meant it then, and she knew he didn’t, no w however…She slowly opened the lip of the box, the amber liquid shifting in it’s vial.
“I love you, Inara,” said Sam, watching her hesitate, her fingers brushing against the syringe. “I want this.”
She nodded, still not looking at him, but slightly more confidant in this. She made quick work, and looked up into Sam’s face as the drug started through his veins. He swallowed, and she knew the feeling; of something almost solid sliding through your veins and into your heart. She watched Sam’s eyes flicker in pain, and then heard him sigh in relief as the drug dissolved in his blood. And with that sigh he would never die again, not as long as she could prevent it.
.
“How the hell are we supposed to get him out if we’re on a spaceship?”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Do you even use your brain?”
“Is that a figure of speech?”
“…you’re a complete moron,” Dean grumbled something back at her in Chinese, sulking for a moment as they tried to pass the time. The piece of go se ship they were on was quiet, everyone was in their bunks, which would make this easier to slaughter their man and drag his soul to hell where it belonged.
“I can’t believe I’m trapped on a firefly with you of all people.”
“Oh yeah, because your ego really doesn’t take up any space at all.”
“We’ve been in here for hours, I’m cranky and I want to go home. Can we just go?”
“Fine,” more grumbling, more shuffling and Dean and Bela (complete in meat suits) walked out onto the cargo bay, glaring at each other.
“Now where, genius?” asked Bela, folding her arms across her chest, waiting patiently for Dean to point the way.
“Passenger dorms,” he said, leaning the way. Bela kept glancing around, looking for solid place to throw people in case the situation presented itself. Dean stopped abruptly, his hand coming up to keep Bela from moving forward. She glanced at him, silently asking him what was wrong. He pointed in the direction of the rooms, watching one of the doors slide open and a raven haired girl stick her head out, blinking in the dark.
“See you,” she said, her voice sounding happy, like she was playing hide-n-seek. Dean rushed her, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her around against his chest, one hand coming up to cover her mouth, the other wrapping around the front of her chest. Bela swallowed.
“Now what?”
“Now you let her go,” the crackle of a laser gun had Bela and Dean turning around, slightly surprised to see a Shepherd standing behind them with a gun pointed in their directions. Dean gave him a look that said what the hell do you think you’re doing? in any language, and nodded towards his piece.
“Shoot me, I dare you.”
Bela rolled her eyes and gave Dean a look. “Would you stop fucking around? Kill them both and let’s go.”
“There wont be any killin’ here tonight.”
“That’s not what your gun says, preacher man,” said Dean. He looked down at River, stared her in the eyes and spoke very clearly. “If you scream, I’ll snap your neck. Dong ma?”
She nodded and Dean slowly moved his hand away from her face, but kept his other arm around her chest. The Shepherd raised his gun a little higher in Dean’s direction, his eyes narrowing.
“The deepest circle of hell will have a place waiting for you, if you touch one hair on that child’s head.”
Dean blinked at him and glanced over at Bela who wore the same expression as he did. A laugh caught in his throat and his head snapped back onto the Shepherd, eyes hard.
“Been there, done that. And let me tell you Shepherd, it’s…worse.”
“Telling the truth,” said River, staring at Book with her hair falling over her face. Dean pulled her closer to his chest, his hand splayed across her shoulder. “But you liked it.”
“We are going to have so much fun,” growled Dean, taking a few steps back, dragging River with him. Bela stayed in front of them, keeping a weary eye on the Shepherd as Dean retreated down the darkened hallway.
“Tell us where Sam is,” said Bela. “And I’ll spare both your lives.”
“You’ll let us go?” asked Book, glancing over at River. Bela smirked at him.
“I said I’d spare your lives. I said nothing about what he would do to you.”
Book hesitated, gauging his advantage against the two…demons. He might have been a man of the lord, but faith would not help him in this. He closed his eyes, giving up Sam, it was his only choice, the only thing he could do. One for the many.
“Walk out the way you came, on your left there’s a shuttle. He’ll be in there,” Dean’s eyebrows shot up, clearly not expecting an answer and loosened his grip on River, she let out a sigh of relief , feeling him relax behind her and let herself rest against him, something else that surprised him.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be,” said Dean seriously, looking down at her. She shook her head, eyes starring off into space.
“I trust you,” Dean’s arm dropped away from her body completely, staring at the back of her head in amusement.
“She trusts me, Bela,” Dean called over, looking at his very favorite woman. She snorted.
“Because you’re so trustworthy.”
“More than you,” said River, her back still pressing against Dean. He smirked and Bela rolled her eyes.
“Can we go get your brother now, Dean? I want to go home,” Dean nodded, taking one last look at River and then heading after Bela, stopping as just as he past Shepherd Book, leaning into the other man, giving him a thoughtful look.
“I’ll see you in Hell, Shepherd.”
Book stared after him, a grim expression on his face before he turned to River, walking over to her quickly and grabbing her arm. “Alert the captain,” he said softly in her ear, his grip tightened on his gun as she nodded, running off towards the captain’s quarters, her feet barely touching the ground as she ran, flew down to the captains room. Book’s eyes followed her out of habit, before a very dark look fell over his face and he headed after these demons.
They didn’t seem to get along very well, he mused to himself, bare feet padding along the cool metal, waiting for the moment he knew he wasn’t going to get. They came without guns, they cam without knifes, they came without poison, lasers or any sort of way to subdue Sam. They must have something to hold against him if they were going to go in there unarmed. Sam was a fairly large man, who looked like he knew how to fight, especially if Inara was in danger. Book swallowed and quickened his pace slightly, stopping just short of the corridor leading to Inara’s shuttle, watching as the male, Dean the other one called him, lift an arm, palm facing the shuttle door and blowing the door apart.
“You really don’t know how to be subtle do you?”
Book felt someone slide behind him and assumed it was the captain and River. Mal placed his hand on the older man’s shoulder, silently telling him to draw back and protect River if necessary. Both men looked up as the sound of metal hitting skin rang out, and they both drew out into the hallway, moving their guns up, ready to fire. The woman was holding her cheek, chuckling bitterly and muttering to herself about something they couldn’t hear. Sam stepped out of the shuttle, a knife held loosely in his hand. Dean felt a smirk slide onto his face, despite his feeling on the situation.
“Hi, Sammy.”
“Dean,” said Sam tightly, his fingers tightening around the knife. Dean noticed and chuckled.
“Don’t make me kick your ass, little brother”
“Brother?” said Mal before he could stop himself, mentally smacking himself in the face when Sam and those other two turned to look at him. “He doesn’t look a bite like your brother.”
“This is getting ridiculous,” said Bela rolling her eyes and moving a hand to her forehead. Sam blinked at her and moved his attention from Dean to her instantly.
“Bela?”
“Oh good, you remember me.”
“What the hell are you doing with Bela?” Sam muttered to Dean who sighed.
“Only one crazy enough to go with me.”
“You must have been desperate.”
“Sam, you realize this man is going to kill you?” said Book, his gun still raised, stepping forward slowly. “A man who called you his brother.”
“It’s complicated,” said Bela. “It’s very, very…complicated.”
“I’ve been hearin’ that word too often since you came on,” said Mal, talking to Sam. “Maybe you ought to leave with these nice people.”
“People?” snapped Bela, a sharp laugh catching in her throat. “We’re not people, Captain. I assume you’re the captain?”
“If you’re not people then what, pray tell, are you?”
“Demons,” all eyes snapped onto River.
“She is something,” said Dean, staring at River in awe, who stared at him with unblinking eyes, staring into his soul that made something human in him tighten. “Awfully pretty-”
“What in the good gorram is goin’ on?”
“Not now, Jayne.”
“Wait a tick, them is the people who attacked me and Sam.”
“You’ve been on my boat before?” asked Mal, suppressing the mighty strong urge to growl. “You attacked my crew and…well, you attacked Jayne and that ain’t a feat done lightly-”
“Easy enough,” said Bela smugly. “He went down like a rock.”
“Hey, can I shoot her, Mal?”
“Please?” said both Sam and Dean together.
“There will be no shootin’ less the situation presents.”
“C’mon, Mal,” whined Jayne.
“Won’t do any good,” said River, walking around the Shepherd and Mal to sit against the railing. “Can’t break s‘already broken.”
“Alright, I’m getting sick of talking,” said Dean suddenly, swinging out and catching Sam off guard with a punch to the gut and wrenching the knife out of his hands, tossing it to Bela. “Time for a walk, Sammy.”
“Don’t move.”
Dean froze, smelling the metal of a gun and the click of it’s safety being turned off. He looked up, emotion flickering in his eyes, hand moving away from Sam, who stumbled backwards into the wall of the ship as Inara stepped out of her shuttle, the Colt pointed at Dean’s chest.
“Inara?” breathed Dean, taking a step back. “Inara, it’s Dean-”
“I know who you are,” Inara interrupted bitterly, reaching out with her other hand to place on Sam’s shoulder, assuring herself that he was fine. Dean’s eyes hardened as he stopped on the gun she was pointing at him.
“You gonna kill me?”
“Thinking about it,” said Inara. “You should have stayed in Hell where you belonged.”
“And you should be dead, but it looks like neither of us are getting what we want,” spat Dean, the hopefulness, the happiness his eyes had held when he saw her vanishing. “Well, that’s not true. I’ll have Sam.”
“Sam‘s not going anywhere,” growled Inara.
“Hey now, let’s not be hasty-”
“No, Mal,” interrupted Inara loudly. “You have no idea what these boo hway-hun things are.”
“There’s no need to be racist,” said Bela sounding a little hurt. “All we want is Sam. Then you can go on living your extra long, whoring life.”
“Sam isn’t going anywhere,” said Inara again, not flinching at the whore comment. “Now go, or I will kill you for good.”
“We’re not going-”
The sound of Inara’s gun filled the ears of everyone, startling them out of their wits, eyes snapping onto Bela as her face crackled with light, singed skin around the bullet hole in her brain leaking with blood as the body fell to the ground. Dean blinked down at the woman who was no longer Bela and then back up at Inara, who swung the colt back onto him. He jumped slightly, taking a few steps back, his hands flying up in defense.
“C’mon, ‘Nara…” started Dean a smile flickering on his face. Inara’s face stayed blank, which seemed to piss Dean off, because he stopped backing up, his face going dark. “You would shoot me?!” he shouted, voice echoing off the walls. “Fuck, Inara, I thought I meant more to you than that.”
“You used to,” said Inara softly, her throat burning as tear started burning against her eyes.
“I thought…” Dean’s voice cracked and he chocked on his words, eyes forming with tears. “What changed?”
“You killed my son, Dean,” said Inara, trying not to cry in front of him. The arm holding the colt started to shake, a dull ache forming in her shoulder and she lifted her other arm, steadying her hands. “That’s why Sam sent you back to hell in the first place. You killed him!”
“It was an accident,” said Dean, his voice barely above a whisper, walking closer, ignoring the way she lifted her gun just a little higher. “I love you, Inara. I…I would never hurt you on purpose…”
“Liar,” said River softly, catching Inara off guard, her hear turning to where the girl was sitting on the ground, just as many tears in her eyes as Dean and Inara did. “He’s a liar.”
That hesitation was all Dean needed. He lunged for her, on hand wrapping around Inara’s wrist, the other around the gun. They struggled for a moment, neither one getting the upper hand, and no one was willing to try and help. Sam actually backed off as far as he would let himself, ready to protect the others if he needed too. He jumped as another shot went off, watched as Dean and Inara both froze, eyes wide, staring at the other. Inara looked down at her abdomen, watching blood seep through the silk of her robe, the hand holding the gun falling away, dropping against her abdomen, her mouth falling open in agony that she couldn’t feel yet, blood running across her splayed fingers.
“Inara!”
Sam’s scream echoed through the ship, sounding muted in Inara’s ears. She looked up into Dean’s eyes, saw the horror etched onto his face, letting himself be throw back as Sam saw to Inara, one of his hands joining hers against her stomach, the other sliding around her waist just in case her legs went out.
“Simon!” screamed River, still sitting on the ground. It was a wonder that the entire crew wasn’t up and in their little passageway to investigate. Sam turned to look at Mal, his mouth open to ask for help, but stopped as he saw the man staring at them in shock, unable to believe what was happening.
“Mal!” shouted Sam, snapping the captain out of his stupor. He blinked at Sam. “I need your help!”
Book started forward after Mal refused to respond, moving around to Inara’s other side and pushing back her hair.
“Inara, can you hear me?”
“He…Dean, he-” Inara gasped in pain, leaning into Sam’s arm as Book continued to talk to her. Simon appeared in the hallway, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong when he spotted Inara and immediately went to her side.
“What happened?”
“She was shot,” said Book, backing away to let Simon do his work. He looked over at Dean, bracing himself on the metal railing, staring wide eyed at Inara, his face pale and in shock.
“We need to get her to the infirmary,” said Simon, taking a step back to let Sam carry her to med bay. He turned to ask Book something else when his eyes fell on the woman lying dead on the ground. “What the hell happened?”
“Talk later,” shouted River, climbing to her feet, Simon looked at her and nodded, taking one last look at the woman who used to be Bela and followed Sam into the infirmary. He pushed past Sam, undoing the tie holding her robe together and letting the fabric fall away.
“This isn’t good,” he muttered to himself, He glancing over his shoulder at Sam. “I need to dope her. Get me a sedative.”
Sam did as he was told, passing over the pressure needle and whatever else Simon needed from him, staying in the shadows as Simon did his job. Simon made quick work, removing the bullet without a hitch, wincing at the wreckage the bullet had done.
“What the hell kind of weapon was this?” asked Simon, as he began patching up her insides.
“A colt made back on Earth-That-Was,” said Sam. “Roughly six hundred years old.”
“What is a gun like that…” Simon trailed off, but continued to work.
Timed seemed to slow down, what felt like a century passing by, when Sam knew it was only hours. Simon sighed as he finished, stitching up the wound. Sam had stayed the whole time, and eventually other walked in as well. Zoë and Wash stopped by the door for a few minutes to watch Simon work. Kaylee had walked in with tears in her eyes and Sam let her drop her head against his shoulder. She was the only other one who stayed, neither of them talking. Shepherd Book stopped in frequently with his bible, silently saying a prayer whenever he did. Sam wondered briefly what they did with Dean. They wouldn’t kill him on the spot, he had a feeling the Shepherd wouldn’t take to kindly to that. Probably threw him in a room somewhere with Jayne. Sam looked up at Simon, hope shining in his eyes.
“She’ll be okay?”
“I wont know for sure until she stabilizes,” said Simon quietly. “To be honest, it doesn’t look good.”
Sam felt Kaylee stiffen next to him and his arm slid around her shoulders comfortingly, pulling her closer. He involuntarily thought back to Isaiah, watching the little boy in his arms die, eyes wide and fogged and staring at him…had decided right then and there that he wasn’t going to let that happen to Inara. Never. He swallowed, an idea suddenly gripping at his brain. He pulled away from Kaylee and headed out of the infirmary, ignoring Kaylee calling his name. He pushed past Zoë who had been hovering to wait on news, ignored her askin’ him if everything was okay.
They had moved Bela’s meat sack, the blood gone from the metal floor. Sam didn’t dwell on it, continuing into Inara’s shuttle and immediately going through her things. The most logical place to keep it would have been in her dresser, where she had kept the gun and everything else precious to her. He noticed absently that there was a picture missing from the drawer as he pulled out the vignetted box, flipping the lip up to make sure the syringe and vial were there. He picked it up gingerly, watching the opaque liquid move of its own volition for a moment before spinning on his heel and heading back to the infirmary.
He passed by Zoë, still looking shell shocked from being brushed off earlier and didn’t bother him as he passed, heading into the med bay. Simon gave him a look Sam ignored, simply turning Inara’s arm over and pressing the needle into the flesh of her skin, vaguely hearing Simon’s shouts of protest, Kaylee screaming at him as to what he was doing. He pulled the need out after administering a small amount (he knew she didn’t need much, he was guaranteed she would live, that’s what mattered) stepping back from his tai tai and waited.
“What the hell did you do?” shouted Simon, taking a menacing step towards him. Sam held up his hand, his eyes still on Inara, watching her eyes flicker. Simon followed his gaze, a deep frown forming on his face as he moved back to Inara’s side, checking her vitals.
“What on earth…?”
“She’ll be fine,” said Sam, letting a breath of relief he hadn’t know he’d been holding, his eyes sliding closed. “She’ll be fine.”
“What the hell did you give her?”
“When she wakes up, we’ll tell you,” said Sam softly, opening his eyes and moving to Inara’s side, slipping his hand into her, watching her face for signs of movement. “Tell the other’s she’s fine. She’ll be up and about in a few hours.”
“Mal’s going to be furious that you got her shot,” warned Simon, pulling his surgical gloves off his hands. Sam snorted at his words, his eyes never leaving Inara.
“I got her shot? Maybe, but he’s the one who didn’t move to help her.”
“Captain won’t take lightly to you talking go se about him,” said Zoë from the door way. “Less then him puttin’ up with your secrects for so long.”
“Hey, I’m all for truthfulness. You‘re in the dark for your own good but…” Sam trailed off, the pad of his thumb moving over the back of Inara’s hand and he sighed. “Dean’s the only one who’s gotten her to mention anything of her old life.”
“Yeah, what this about a son?” asked Wash, coming up behind his wife, leaning his arm against the doorway. Sam bristled, feeling those old wounds coming apart in his chest and he tried not to snap at Wash that it was none of his fucking business but in all reality they had made it their business. Blinking a few times he opened his mouth to try and explain it away, but his silence had alerted Zoë that this was a subject he really didn’t want to discus.
“It can wait, dear,” said Zoë, watching Sam look up at her, thanking her silently. She nodded and shooed her husband away, telling him to go play with his dinosaurs, then walked into the infirmary, eyeing the doc and Kaylee warily before speaking to Sam, her voice low. “We all heard the commotion. Thought it would be best if we didn’t make things more complicated by makin’ our presence known.”
“You heard everything?’
“Just made us more confused then before,” said Zoë. “You two really do have a history, don’t you?”
“It’s long and complicated,” said Sam with a smirk. It faded after a moment as a thought came to him. “Where did you put Dean? The gun and the knife Inara and I have, they’ll kill him if he tries to hurt anyone, but that‘s the only way-”
“River’s lookin’ after him in one of the empty room,” interrupted Zoë. “Said she wanted to learn.”
“Oh,” said Sam, deflating slightly. “River ‘ll be able to sift though the bullshit. Better than Jayne.”
“Anything’s better than Jayne,” agreed Zoë. Her gaze fell to the syringe in his hand. “What did you give her?’
“Life.”
Zoë frowned, but watched as Sam turned back to Inara and she knew she wasn’t going to get anything else out of him. Not yet anyways. She groaned inwardly, thinking back to the argument the whole crew had heard. She had told Jayne not to go messing in things he shouldn’t be messing in, but the overly large man wouldn’t listen, followed the captain and River. She followed next after Wash had bounced about and whined about not wanting to miss anything. He was such a child sometimes. Simon had curled up in his bed and tried not to listen, especially after that first gun shot. He figured if anyone needed him they would call him. Kaylee called him a spoil sport and went off to listen with Wash and Zoë.
Zoë knew it had been a bad idea when Inara started talking about her son. Something in the pit of her stomach twisted dangerously, and she closed her eyes and tried to ignore the way Kaylee gasped, whispering such things like ‘A baby? Inara’s a got baby?’. Then there was more shoutin’ another gunshot and everything got real quiet for a moment, and that dread was uncoiling in the pit of Zoë stomach and spreading through her body. She knew before Sam started screaming her name that it was Inara been hit. River shouted for Simon and Kaylee ran off to get him, draggin’ him from his bed half naked, trying not to fall over his feet as Kaylee pushed him out on front of her then fell back next to Wash and Zoë, bringing her hand up to her mouth and chewing on her thumb nail.
Zoë sighed and backed out of the infirmary, intent of looking for Mal and keeping him from shouting at Sam. She had a feeling the poor man wouldn’t be able to take that, not with his wife being shot and his brother doin’ the shootin’.
Zoë stopped at the door to Mal‘s bunk, folding her arms over her chest.
“Captain? Inara’s fine. Sam gave her something, she’ll be right as rain in a few hours,” she was rewarded with silence, sighed and continued. “They don’t deserve any trouble. Don’t go accusing them of anything ‘til we’ve got our story. Is that understood, sir?”
“Since when are you giving orders?”
“Since you decided to start pouting in your bunk, sir,” Mal grumbled from inside his room and the door hissed open, Mal climbing up, still muttering. He closed his eyes as his boots hit topside, eyes hard and angry, looking at Zoë with a kind of determination that scared her.
“Tell the crew we’re to meet in mess when Inara’s up. I want this squared away, and I ain’t looking for any excuses. I want explaining, and that’s what I’ll get.”
“Yes, sir,” Zoe nodded at her captain and headed off, back to find the others. Near exactly an hour later had Sam and Inara standing together in front of the table, Inara holding her abdomen lightly where she’d been shot. She looked up at Sam, who sighed, getting that she wanted him to start it up.
“We were born over five hundred years ago,” began Sam, standing next to Inara. “On Earth-That-Was. I was born in a state called Kansas, Inara a place called New York. We met through Dean. She was one of the founding members of the companion’s Guild, I was a hunter. We fought the things that go bump in the night. I still do. Werewolf’s, ghosts, demons and a whole mess of other scary things. My brother and I…there was a war. We were in the middle of it. Dean sold his soul to bring me back to life and in turn an angel pulled him out of Hell. He was dragged back by a demon called Alistair. There was a demon trying to bring Lucifer to Earth. She succeeded, more or less. Inara and I were in that war, as hunters we were trying to kill as many demons as we could. We lost considerably, and the world turned to drastic measures. Leaving the planet and searching for new ones.”
“There was a drug, an elixir,” said Inara, taking up from where Sam stopped. “It could keep you from dying, aging at all. The guild contacted Sam’s father and that’s how I met Dean. The elixir was real, though it took a few years to actually notice it. I don’t get sick, I don’t age. It doesn’t take a lot to do the job. Sam and I, we really are complicated, you have to understand. We’ve been though centuries together…”
“Get to the part where you have a kid,” said Jayne, the rest of the crew sent him glares, watching as Inara and Sam visible winced. Inara swallowed the lump in her throat, groping blindly for Sam’s hand, clutching at his wrist.
“There’s no coming back from losing a child,” said Sam softly. “Isaiah was three when the war really started. The one between Haven and Hell. He was k-killed by Dean. He was…I sent him back to Hell without thinking twice.”
“Couldn’t he have just gotten out again?” asked Jayne. Sam shook his head.
“There’s a reason it’s called the pit,” said Sam. “It’s not easy to get out, unless you have permission or crawl out. And there’s always a more powerful demon wanting to get out. The 66 seals were unlocked and Lucifer walked Earth.”
“The only word to describe the carnage is apocalypse,” said Inara. “By the time angels and demons were walking freely, most of Earth’s population was seeking space. Those who stayed-”
“Died. In fire and bright lights. Their skin melted off. The religious cried cleansing, right before they were dismembered by a passing demon. As hunters, we tried our best, but-”
“We were outnumbered 1,000 to one,” said Inara. “There were some recruits, but in the end only a handful of us made it off Earth alive.”
“The only reason I’m still alive is because of Inara,” said Sam. “You die once and you never want to again.”
“What about the angels?” asked Book. Sam sighed wearily.
“They’re no better than demons. They’re dicks, all of them. They think humans are below them and demons are even lower. They blasted towns with demons and people in them. We lost more hunters to angels than we did to demons.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Nothing about our war makes sense, preacher,” said Sam. “Don’t take it against your faith. I still believe. Even after everything that happened.”
“So, what’s Dean doin’ out of Hell if it’s so hard gettin’ out? Why’s he after you?” asked Kaylee.
“I put him there,” said Sam. “It’s…personal, when I send someone back to hell.”
“He can kill you with his brain,” said River from the doorway. Sam tried not to grin at her, shaking his head.
“She’s got the idea,” said Sam, the humor sliding off and away from him and he looked at the crew very seriously. “I can kill you with my brain.”
Inara elbowed him in the ribs and told him to stop messing around. Her eyes fell onto Mal, who hadn’t said anything, he’d stayed eerily quiet the entire time. Sam glanced down at her and followed her gaze with a frown. His eyes stopped on Mal and he nodded, jaw clenching and pulling his hand away from Inara’s.
“I’m going to go send Dean back to hell,” said Sam under his breath. Wash perked up.
“Can we watch?” Sam grimaced.
“I you want too. I mean…it’s not pretty.”
“Lot’s of dao chu fen,” said River. “He wont be happy.”
“It’s gotta be done, mei mei,” said Sam, brushing past Inara and heading off to where they were keeping Dean. River followed him and soon after Jayne and Wash stood up from there chairs and followed as well.
“Do you think there’ll be magic?” asked Wash, his voice fading off. Book glanced between Inara and Mal and stood up, giving Kaylee a warm smile.
“Why don’t we see if we can’t find some food, make us all a proper breakfast.”
“I think I’ll pass,” said Simon, standing up. “I’m feeling pretty exhausted.”
“’Night, Simon,” said Kaylee, waving goodnight to him before following Book behind the counter to start breakfast preparations.
“Mal, I know you’re upset about this-”
“Who’s upset?” asked Mal. “Ours is strictly a business arrangement, as long as you pay me every month you can keep all the secrets you want.”
Inara’s face went blank and she nodded, turning away from the captain and heading off to find Sam to see if he needed any help. Zoë shook her head after her, Mal looked at her and frowned.
“What?”
“You really are an idiot, sir,” she said casually.
“I suppose I should give this back,” said Mal, pulling the picture of Inara, Sam and Isaiah out of his coat pocket, holding it in front of his face. Zoë looked over at him.
“You steal that, sir?”
“Might have,” said Mal, not noticing as Kaylee walked up behind him, looking over his shoulder at the photograph.
“How come it ain’t movin’?”
“Taken a couple of centuries ago, little one,” said Zoë. Kaylee tilted her head to the side, still looking at the picture.
“Ain’t he precious,” said Kaylee. “How come you gots it, Cap?”
“He stole it,” said Zoë. Kaylee frowned and reached out, plucking the picture from Mal’s hand.
“They look so happy,” said Kaylee, practically exploding with joy as she traced the faces of the people in the photo with her fingertips. “Shame what happened.”
“Yeah, real tragedy,” said Mal standing up and taking the photo back from Kaylee who made a noise of protest. “Should really get it back to them before they notice-”
Mal was interrupted by a scream, ringing out through the ship. He hadn’t heard screams like that since the war, and immediately took off, Zoë close behind. The two headed in the direction of the screams, pushing past a shell shocked Wash. Mal blinked, staring at Sam who had his arm stretched out in front of him, blood seeping from his nose. Dean had his head thrown back, eyes black, mouth hanging open, spewing something that looked like black smoke up into the air. It stopped suddenly and the man who had once been Dean slumped over in his chair.
Then all eyes were on Sam again, who moved his outstretched arm to his face, wiping the blood off with the back of his hand, then moving forward to check the man’s pulse.
“He’s alive,” said Sam quietly, his hand falling back to his side. “Go get Simon, he’ll need to look him over.”
“I’ll get him,” said Zoë, backing away from the scene and hurryin’ off to grab the doc. Inara moved to Sam’s side, wiping the rest of the blood off his face.
“You’re alright?” Sam nodded. “Been awhile since you did that?”
“Kinda rusty,” said Sam with a grin. “But, hey, it’s like riding a bike.”
“Was anyone hurt?” asked Simon, walking up to them, Zoë close behind.
“River was thrown across the room,” piped up Jayne.
“River-”
“She deserved it,” interrupted River, shaking her head and dismissing the concern. “He was angry at her.”
“The things he said,” began Inara, looking at Jayne and River. “They’re lies. Demons can read minds, and Dean, he was a good friend.”
Jayne looked uncomfortable, like he wanted to say something but was holding back. If it was any concerns about what Dean had said, Sam was thankful. He really didn’t want the crew to worry about Dean coming back and killing them all. He glanced at Wash.
“Do you know how far we are from Osiris?”
“Maybe another half a day,” he said with a shrug. “Why?”
“Old friend there,” said Sam. “A demon named Ruby. She’ll make sure Dean stays gone.”
“Did he just use the words ‘demon’ and ‘friend’ in the same sentence?” asked Wash, pointing at Sam and looking at Zoë and Mal.
“She’s not like the others,” said Inara. “She wont hurt us.”
“I’m not taking any chances,” said Mal. “If she takes one step onto this boat, you two are getting thrown off. Is that clear?”
“Ming bai,” said Sam. “She doesn’t like space anyways. Too dark. Inara and I’ll meet her when we land.”
“Whoa, hey now, Inara ain’t goin’ anywhere,” said Mal. Inara frowned at him.
“Of course I am.”
“You were just shot,” Mal reminded her. Inara rolled her eyes.
“And now I’m all better.”
“I don’t think it’s-”
“Mal, don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. It’s not your job. I know what I can handle.”
Inara turned and headed off, leaving Mal staring after her with his jaw set, fuming, his hand nearly crushing around the picture in his hand. Sam noticed and frowned, taking a step forward.
“Where did you get that?” he asked, his eyes focused on the photo in Mal’s hand. He loosened his grip, looking down at the photo, his heart speeding up. Sam’s frown deepened and he repeated his question, a little more forcefully.
“I found it,” said Mal, not exactly lying.
“Inara wouldn’t leave that around,” said Sam, suddenly feeling very, very angry. “Give it back.”
“I was planning on it.”
“Where did you find it?” asked Sam, reaching out for the photo. Mal hesitated before handing it over, ignoring the looks he was getting from Simon and Zoë.
“Just found it,” Sam looked down at the picture, his chest tightening slightly.
“Just found it,” repeated Sam softly, his thumb moving over Isaiah’s face. “You go through her shuttle and just find things a lot?”
“Not usually, no,” said Mal, his jaw setting as his anger flared. “But you was keeping secrets and I don’t like that.”
“The secret is that’s my son,” Sam shouted, his teeth clenching. “And it doesn’t belong to you.”
“I’m sorry,” said Mal, as Sam walked off. He stopped and shook his head slightly, teeth grinding together.
“Tui nin dao qian nin ba, Mal,” said Sam softly, continuing on. “I don’t want it.”
* translations - bao bei - sweetheart / shen gai si shi wo men zhan zheng - God damn it, this isn’t our war / shi - yes / go se - crap / boo hway-hun - remorseless / tai tai - wife / dao chu fen - black shit everywhere / ming bai - clear / tui nin dao qian nin ba - shove your apology up your ass