Suffer the Children (and the Geeks) 8/10
A/N: We're in the home stretch here--so I hope the action doesn't disappoint. I've been trying to keep up with review replies, but if I somehow forgot you, please, don't take it personally! I will try to catch up with the rest tonight. I totally appreciate the support on this one--it makes all the stress and time on this story SO worthwhile. Still thanks to Tyruanusfan and sendintheclowns for their continued support. All other notes and disclaimers in chapter one.
Chapter Eight
He was cold.
Cold and...wet?
The thought came to him slowly, settling on him heavily as he tried to figure out what the distant sensations meant.
But they weren't distant--not really. The chill was suddenly pervasive and encompassing, and he shivered.
He needed to do something. Because it was too cold, it was uncomfortable, and if he could just move...
Why couldn't he move?
The disturbing nature of that thought shook him more and he blinked, startling awake in desperation.
Bright lights assaulted his vision, acute and unforgiving, and he shied away from it, his head throbbing and his stomach turning.
Maybe it wasn't so much that he couldn't move, but that he didn't want to. His body seemed to be loosing energy fast, it leaked out of him like he was a sieve, and the darkness beckoned him.
For a second, he was tempted to go back to it. It would have been easier that way. But there was something he was supposed to be doing, something important...
The museum.
The kids.
Dean.
It was enough to open his eyes again, and this time he squinted, trying to keep them from snapping shut in discomfort. Things were blurry, oddly shaped masses that he couldn't focus on.
He blinked again, letting the nausea abate.
The world settled-and he was surrounded by pale blue tile, a toilet, the sink...kids.
They were bunched, group in front of him, looking at him in fear.
Jaclyn was holding something out to him, something familiar...his phone.
"Your brother wants to talk to you," she said.
He stared at her for a second, mouth hanging open, trying to make sense of what she said.
"Sam?" she asked, her eyes glinting with desperation now.
"Yeah," he finally managed to say. Reaching his hand out to take the phone was harder than it should have been and his entire body screamed in protest. He tried to prop himself up, to meet the girl half way, but settled for holding out his hand.
Tentatively, she leaned down, placing the phone in his hand.
The very task of putting it to his ear made him want to cry and he felt himself drifting to sleep again. "Dean?"
"Sam? That you?"
"Dean," he said again, blinking slowly. He wished he had some way to get away from the children’s prying eyes, but there was no place to hide and he lacked all strength anyway.
"You scared the crap out of me," Dean said, and Sam could hear the fear laden in his voice. "Next time you don’t want to talk to me there’s no need to freak out the kids."
Sam’s voice was reluctant to work. "Sorry," he managed, grimacing at the slur he couldn’t control.
"How bad are you really?" Dean asked. "Don’t think about lying to me this time."
"Blood loss, mostly," Sam finally admitted. "The concussion’s got me seeing things a little funny."
"You going to be able to do this?" Dean couldn’t hide the hesitation in his voice.
Sam didn’t know. He needed to stop the bleeding, but he could barely move. And if he didn’t, he’d bleed out and condemn the kids to death. "There’s not much choice. We can’t get out until we get rid of it."
"Sam-"
"You know I’m right."
It hurt to say, and he knew it hurt Dean to admit it. The struggle in his brother’s head was palpable in the silence. "I’m going to do some research, figure this thing out," Dean said finally, his voice gritty. "I want you to rest up in the meantime. Take care of the wound. Keep the pressure on it. I’m going to need you alert and ready when I figure this thing out."
Sam nodded wearily, not having the energy to reply verbally.
"Sammy?" Dean’s voice begged confirmation.
"Just…hurry," Sam said. He liked being independent, and sometimes relished being able to do things without his brother’s help. But Sam was not so proud as to not ask for help when he needed it. Especially on a hunt.
And he needed it, now. Badly.
He could almost hear Dean grin, a reassuring, cocky grin. "I’m not exactly the geek here, but I’ll do my best."
With that, Dean ended the call, and Sam couldn’t help but smile.
The kids were watching him out of the corners of their eyes, casting nervous glances at one another as they cowered together along the walls. Whatever adrenaline any of them had mustered was fleeting fast, almost as fast as Sam’s own energy.
But Dean was working on it. Dean would find the way out. Sam just needed to stay awake until then.
-o-
Tremors tore through Dean’s body with such ferocity that he could barely move the cursor correctly. He missed another link he tried to click on, cursing at how slow and inefficient he was being.
Dad's journal lay open next to him, the pages flapping in the wind.
He needed an exorcism, a banishment rite-something, anything, and his brain was working so fast that he could barely think at all.
His searches yielded nothing. His dad had never encountered a spirit in quite this form. He had no idea what to look for.
Frustrated, he nearly threw the laptop across the pavilion. He probably would have if he didn't need it so badly.
Unless he was over thinking this.
Of course he was over thinking this. He wasn't going to find an exorcism for ancient spirits trapped in jewels. He just needed something to separate spirits from objects and something else to send spirits packing on their way.
That was pretty basic. They'd done that before.
Forcing himself to stay calm, he reached for his father's journal, flipping through it and pausing at the various rituals recorded there.
It amazed Dean how fast it came together after that. Bookmarking several passages, he picked up his phone to call Sam back.
He didn't give Sam a chance to say hello before he started talking. "I think I've got it. I think I know how to get rid of her."
"Good," Sam said, a little breathlessly, a little too tired. "So what is it?"
Sam's readiness to just listen was a bit disheartening. Sam should be speculating, helping more-he didn't mind doing all the work, but it wasn't a good sign as to Sam's physical condition.
Dean forced himself to ignore it--for now. He had to tell Sam how to get rid of the witch and then they could deal with everything else. "She's bound to the jewel, right? So if we destroy the jewel then she has no place left to go."
"If we destroy the jewel she'll be...free move around, thought...which would make it easier to claim victims." From Sam's halting speech, Dean could tell Sam was struggling just to speak.
"I'm already ahead of you," Dean said. "So we exorcise her. Pull her out of the jewel, smash the thing so she has no link left, then do a basic exorcism to get rid of her."
"How do we keep her...from running? She's not going to stay put."
That was a thought. Dean's mind worked. "Consecrate the room. Once she's no longer attached to the jewel, she'll have an ethereal form that is bound to the laws all spirits are bound by. She can't cross salt, holy water, iron. Mark the corners and it will keep her there long enough to get the job done."
"Do you have the exorcism?"
"Right here," Dean said. "Do you have something to write with?"
It took a moment, and Dean could hear some rustling, but a moment later Sam's voice came back over the line. "Go ahead."
Slowly, Dean delineated the Latin to him, making sure to double check it with Sam. He didn't doubt Sam's abilities, but his brother was weak and suffering from blood loss and a concussion. He didn't want to put Sam at more risk by having him attempt an incorrect rite.
"You've got salt to consecrate the room?" Dean asked.
"Just the emergency stash in my pocket."
"That won't be enough to cover the entire room--" Dean pointed out.
"We'll just get the doorway," Sam suggested. "So far it's been bound by walls."
"It'll do." It would have to.
There was a pause, and Dean could feel his brother struggling to process all the information, and Dean realized he was neglecting one key fact. But his brother beat him to voicing it. "I'm not sure I can move fast enough to do all that before she freaks."
Sam sounded guilty and ashamed, but honest nonetheless.
Dean just wished there was something he could do about it rather than just tell his brother to suck it up and deal with it. Then the solution came to him, though he was pretty sure he hated it and that Sam would resist it. "The kids," he said suddenly. "Have the kids help you."
"I can't put them at risk like that," Sam said immediately, his voice low and withdrawn, and Dean knew Sam was trying to be discreet.
"There's no choice, Sammy," Dean said. "Let them help consecrate the room, do the hard work so all you have to do is read. Then have them get out of there as fast as they can. Hopefully she'll be too preoccupied with you to focus on them."
The noise Sam made was meant to be laughter, Dean was pretty sure, but it didn't little make him feel better. "And what if I go down?" Sam asked.
The question made Dean cringe. Sam was a strong, capable man, but he was still his little brother, and Sam's insecurities were blaring at him now. Sam was hurt, he was weak, and he knew Sam wasn't afraid of failure for his own safety-but for the kids'.
"Dude, you can do this," Dean said, resolute and true. "I know you can."
And Dean believed it. He believed it because he believed in his brother. He believed it because there was simply no other choice.
"Okay," Sam replied, his voice sounding steadier, stronger. "I'll call you when I'm done."
Sam ended the call and Dean couldn't move, couldn't even take the phone from his ear as he tried to keep believing.
-o-
It took several deep breaths before the room stopped spinning and the pain abated enough to speak. It took a few more breaths before he felt like he could explain this to the kids without passing out.
"Are you guys ready to get out of here?"
They all looked at him, a bit surprised, but too shell-shocked to really show much expression.
"Do we get to go home now?" Lara asked.
Jaclyn's eyes were hopeful. "Is the bad thing outside gone?"
Sam took another breath, garnering his resolve. "Not yet," he said. "But we're going to get rid of it."
They all looked doubtful. "How?" Jeremy asked, a hint of distrust in his voice.
"I just talked to my brother. He has a plan."
"What kind of plan?" Jaclyn asked, almost reluctantly.
"To get rid of what's in the museum. There's a spirit trapped in a jewel."
"Like a ghost?" Jeremy asked. "I thought they just sort of floated around or something."
"Some do," Sam agreed. "This one, it's been tied to a jewel. And it's trying to get it, which is why it attacks people."
"Which is why it attacked Liam," Daniel concluded, looking stonily at Sam.
"Yeah," Sam said sympathetically. "So we have to get rid of it. I’m going to need your help, though."
They still looked scared, all sporting little wide-eyed rabbit looks, but beneath that, Sam could see hints of determination. They were ready to do this.
"Okay," he began. "The first thing we need to do is get the jewel out. It's the green one, in the center case."
"How are we going to get it out though?" Jaclyn asked. "The cases are thick."
"We could smash it," Jeremy said.
Sam had to grin. Dean would like this kid. "That's what we'll have to do. But you'll have to find something heavy enough to do the damage. It might not break on one hit."
"I hit a homerun last year in Little League," Jeremy said with a serious nod. "I could do that."
"Good," Sam said. "That's your job then. Find something heavy then go straight to the case and smash it."
"What do we do when we get it out?" Jaclyn asked.
"You smash the jewel too," Sam said. "Then you get out."
"Will it break? Or will it be too hard?" Jeremy asked, suddenly concerned.
"I think it should break. Enough force."
Jaclyn nodded. "It might take a few times."
"You'll need to work fast," Sam cautioned.
"What can I smash it with?"
Sam looked around at the barren bathroom. "There's bound to be debris lying around. Before we get to the room, pick something up--something hard and metal," Sam advised.
Jeremy nodded curtly.
"What about me?" Jaclyn asked. "How can I help?"
Sam fumbled in his pocket, extracting the emergency packets of salt he kept there. "I need you to pour a line of salt along the doorway. A thick line, as thick as you can."
Jaclyn's nose scrunched up. "Why?"
"Because we want to keep it in the room," Sam explained. "Ghosts can't cross lines of salt--it repels them." He turned to Jeremy. "When you leave, you need to step over the line. Don't disturb it at all."
Jaclyn's eyes went wide. "So Grandma's right to throw salt over her shoulder?"
Sam might have laughed if he'd had the energy. "It's never a bad idea. Salt purifies things," Sam agreed.
"What should I do?" Lara chimed in.
"I need you to keep a watch out," Sam said. "Make sure nothing's coming down the hall. If it is, you need to warn Jaclyn and Jeremy and get them out of there."
Lara nodded, resolutely, though her face showed her concern. "What'll be happening while we're doing this?" Lara asked. "Why will she try to get out?"
"I've got to read something to make her go away," Sam said. "She's not going to like it."
"Will it be like before?" Lara asked, her voice quiet.
Sam's heart broke a little. "Maybe," he admitted. "Which is why we have to go fast. And why I want all of you to return to the bathroom as soon as your job's done. Daniel will be here with Liam."
"But what about you?" Jaclyn asked.
Sam attempted a smile. "Don't worry about me."
They all looked ready to protest.
Sam didn't let them. "If we all work fast, we can get this done, okay? Do you trust me?"
Looking from child to child, he met each of their eyes. Though they were scared and uncertain, Sam could see that without a shadow of a doubt, they did indeed trust him.
It made him ache inside--to know how much they had invested in him. He barely knew them and could barely stand up, yet they were willing to follow him anywhere, do anything, with hardly any information at all.
He garnered his strength. "Ready?"
Each child nodded, and Sam couldn't hold back a smile.
-o-
Opening the door to the bathroom made Sam more than a little nervous. He had no idea what he'd find on the other side--and, quite frankly, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. The bathroom had been his safe haven, the perfect place to hole up.
The only problem was they couldn't last in there forever. And there was no one to get them out except for Sam himself. Dean could do all the research, all the legwork, but it was Sam who had to lead the exorcism.
Which meant leaving the safety of the bathroom behind.
Taking the kids with him did nothing to assuage his anxieties. At least Liam and Daniel would be safe--and all he had to do was read quickly and hopefully Jeremy, Lara, and Jaclyn could be safe too.
But speed was not a virtue he possessed right now. The blood loss was seriously hampering his movements. Even the simple task of standing at the doorway was draining him.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Jaclyn asked him one more time as he prepped to leave.
"Of course," he said breathily. "Just a little longer and then we'll be out of here."
Jaclyn looked doubtful of this, but said nothing.
"You guys ready?"
Three nods answered him.
Taking a breath, he opened the door, bracing himself for what was to come.
What he was met with was silence.
Nothing stirred, not even remotely.
Poking his head out, he saw the hallway littered with pieces of exhibits. A pile of mannequins lay in a heap at the end of the hall, including the two arrow-happy Native Americans from earlier.
He stepped out, waiting for something to spring to life and attack him.
Nothing.
Maybe she's too tired to attack anymore, Sam thought hopefully. Either way, they needed to move.
Without speaking, he nodded to the kids who were still in the doorway. Tentatively, they each stepped out. Jeremy surveyed the scene, quickly eyeing a metal railroad tie...probably from the Westward Expansion exhibit. He bent down and picked it up, weighing it in his hands. Grinning, he held it up to Sam.
Sam nodded approvingly.
With that task taken care of, Sam began down the hall. The kids kept close, lurking in his shadow, prepared for something to come flying at them.
The trip was silent except for their shoes against the floor and the pounding of Sam's heart in his ears.
The tension ramped up a notch as they rounded the corner to the Jewels of the East exhibit. He could feel Jaclyn leaning into him, her fingers brushing the back of his jacket. Sam swallowed hard, steeling himself and clutching the paper in his shaking hand.
At the doorway, he looked back at them, giving them one last chance to back out.
All three stared back at him, solid and ready.
Sam cleared the corner first, standing in the middle of the room. He waited for Jeremy to take his place in front of the case and for the girls to flank the entryway.
His breath hitched and he gave each child a long look before giving the nod to Jaclyn.
She poured quickly, ripping the packets open with shaking hands.
Sam waited, tense. If she attacked now, Sam wasn't sure what he'd do. They just had to get the salt line up and then at least the kids would be safe--or safer anyway.
When Jaclyn was done, she looked up, hopeful and ready for approval. Sam smiled tightly.
His turn. He needed to start the exorcism before Jeremy broke the case--that way if the witch decided to attack, it would see him as the greater threat, giving Jeremy time to escape.
Sam began to read. A line in, he glanced up and nodded to the boy.
With a deep breath, the boy reared back and made a hearty swing at the case.
Reading the next line, he spared a glance at the girls, who hovered nervously in the doorway.
The casing cracked. Without hesitation, Jeremy swung again and again, and Sam could see the boy definitely was in little league. One the fifth blow, the thing broke open and Jeremy reached in and grabbed the jewel, depositing it on the floor.
The Latin rolled easily off his tongue, years of practice overriding his pain and fears.
He could hear pounding and he knew it was Jeremy, doing his best to destroy the jade.
A hissing began to rise in the room.
Sam doubled the pace. She was here.
The hissing rose and Sam felt the temperature shift and then grow intensely cold.
Jeremy ran by him in a blur, and Sam felt a wave of relief.
The relief was supplanted by the coldness, which was stealing his thought with every breath.
The coldness started at his feet, planting them to the ground, almost freezing them there. He stumbled over a word then forced them out at a faster pace. He was running out of time.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see all three kids at the entryway, ready to leave, waiting for him to join him. He could easily finish the exorcism from beyond the salt line.
But that would put the kids at risk. If she could bring the exhibits to life, they'd be vulnerable in the hallway. That wasn't a chance he could take. Not that it mattered. He was rapidly losing all ability to move.
At least the kids would be safe, he thought, pushing himself to read faster. His energy was waning though, too fast. His vision blurred and he dropped to his knees.
His tongue didn't want to work and the Latin grew clunky in his mouth.
As his vision faded completely, all he could think was that he had failed.
Chapter Nine