Babes in Toyland Chapter 7/9 + Epilogue

[jcrgirl]

Title: Babes in Toyland Chapter 7/9 + Epilogue
Author: JCRGIRL
Banner: emeraldheiress
Pairing: Dean/Sam
Rating: R
Warnings: Wincest, AU, BabyFic (Non-MPreg),
Word Count: ~ 4300
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue. Just playing in Kripke's sandbox.
Summary: Christmas with new and old friends.

Author Notes: Joey Verse and chronologically follows 'I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Claus' though a few years have passed. Title from the story "Babes in Toyland". Sorry for the delay on this fic, I took a break with Teacher's Pet. One a happy note, chapters 8 and 9 are at the beta and should be posted soon. This chapter is being posted unbeta'd since she's a little swamped an I wanted to post it before I left on vacation. So all mistakes are mine! Comments are love, but you may not get a response for a few days since I won't have internet...oh, the horrors!

Master Post of Fics



There was pindrop silence for a moment before the protests started.
“You can’t be serious, Dean.” John bellowed while Bobby insisted, “I’m coming too.”

“Yes,” Dean answered his father.

“No,” Sam answered Bobby.

The brothers stared at each other, Dean rolled his eyes and Sam sighed.

Trotter cleared his throat and growled, “We don’t have time for this.”

It continued in an increasingly angrier round robin, each voice growing slightly louder than the last in an attempt to be heard. Airport security lurked nearby, worried over the commotion, until Steve raised his forged badge with a slight shake of the head. In the end it was the softest voice that stopped the argument mid-debate.

“Papa? Daddy and DeeDee are hewroes.”

John’s open mouth, ready with a quip about how Casey’s people could save her, snapped shut.  He looked at the hazel eyed boy in his arms, taking in the pale fear of his grandson. “That’s right, little man. Your Daddy and DeeDee are heroes.”

“Hewroes save people. Mommy’s in touble.” Joey turned his wet eyes to his fathers. “They save Mommy.”

Dean swallowed hard, eyes closing against the pain in Joey’s gaze.  He took a deep, centering breath and held his hands out for his son. Joey scrambled into his embrace and tucked his face into the crook of Dean’s neck. “We’re going to save Mommy, Possum. Don’t you worry.”

“Guys, we really have to go. The trail is only getting colder.” Josh glanced back to the monorail area, where the elevated cars would take them to the main terminal, and bit his lip. Steve stepped up behind him and placed a hand along the small of his back.

“Bobby,” Sam turned to their pseudo-father, “please, help Dad with Joey. Stay with them at our house. It’s the safest place.” Trotter snorted, eyes focused out the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the runways. “I promise we’ll bring Casey back.” Sam finished as much for Trotter’s benefit as for Bobby’s.

He leaned over and kissed Joey again, watching as Dean pressed a lingering kiss to their son’s forehead. With a soft “be good” Dean handed Joey back to John and hefted his carry-on over his shoulder. Fixing Trotter with a determined stare, he nodded toward the monorail. “Let’s go.”

******

The ride to the airport took a little over a half an hour, the return trip was a little less than twenty minutes.  Trotter navigated the Expedition down the dirt drive that led them under the large arched entrance. A motion sensor light flicked on as they passed underneath, illuminating the gated ingress. The three rail fence hung loosely from it’s hinges, swinging in the mild December breeze. The protective etchings on the wood, usually only noticeable to the naked eye as vague gouges, were charred black.

“What the hell?” Josh peered out the windows as Trotter slowed.

“Never seen anything like it.” Trotter squinted against the glare of the light to inspect the destroyed symbols.

They continued down the drive, security lights clicking on as they passed, and Steve gasped from the backseat as the ranch came into view. The front door was missing, the opening a dark maw in the façade of the house. The large picture windows that monopolized the building were blown out, cream colored drapes fluttering through the broken frames like apparitions. Two dark mounds flanked the porch steps, one on each side, dark pools surrounding their still bodies. Sam clenched his teeth as they rolled past the dogs, on guard at their posts even in death.

Pulling around back, Trotter stopped the car near the rear porch. Guns were pulled from the console and holsters bolted under each seat. Locked and loaded, they exited the quiet vehicle into the silence of hell.

Josh’s form was tense, gaze roving over the pastures to the barn. His eyes tightened and turned cold. “Dead.”

Sam turned toward the barn, light spilled out the stable windows barely reaching the four massive outlines lying in the paddock. Each horse felled in wide eyed horror, their obsidian orbs reflecting the muted light.  Dean nudged him with his elbow and jutted his chin to the house.  The five men moved forward, the four seasoned fighters surrounding the less experienced Steve - Josh and Trotter in the front and Dean and Sam at the rear.

They entered through the dining room, the space lit by the dull moonlight. Trotter and Josh moved with a synchronized ease that would put most military regiments to shame. They ducked around the haphazardly tossed chairs and tiptoed through the shattered glass littering the floor. Broken bulbs hung from the overhead light and the massive oak table was split down the center. A sound echoed from the kitchen and the men froze. With quick hand gestures, Trotter whirled around the wall separating the dining room from the kitchen, gun raised.

“Put it away, Jon, and tell the others to come out.”  Trotter tucked his gun in the back of his jeans and nodded his head to the others.

Coming around the corner, Dean noticed that the kitchen and living room hadn’t been spared. The leather sofa and loveseat were gutted, the stuffing spilling from the rips in the heavy fabric. The TV had been wrenched from the wall, the screen melted at the center, and was lying on the floor where Joey and Hannah had played earlier that morning. Black smudges marred the marble countertops, some of the scorches gouging the hard surface a few inches. The tiled backsplash behind the stove, along with the neighboring cabinets, were covered in a thick layer of soot, the appliance pulled away from the wall.

Ariel was leaning against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest and a defiant look on her face.  “Thank Gabriel you’re here. Will you please talk some sense into your stubborn bitch of a sister? She wouldn’t give up command until you were here.”

In the corner with her back to the group stood Ruthie, backlit by the glowing screen of the laptop before her. She didn’t acknowledge them and tapped on a few keys, the color of the screen changing from royal blue to neon green. Sam flicked the safety on his gun and tucked it away. He scrunched his brow as he stared at the petite girl. There was something odd about the way she was holding herself.

“Ruthie,” Trotter approached his sister, hand held out.

Ruthie gasped when Trotter’s strong fingers wrapped around her arm and she spun on him, eyes wide and feral. Dean instinctively pulled his gun back out and stepped in front of Sam. He’d heard John’s war stories and seen hunters that were unable to switch from ‘battle mode’ after a particularly hard fight. Ruthie was likely to pull a gun and shoot all of them especially since the dark house made them difficult to make out.

After a tense moment, Ruthie grabbed Trotter’s forearm, her fingers blanching at the knuckle. “Jackal,” she gasped, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes. Her other hand was pressed against her side and Dean cold make out the dark trickle of blood flowing over her fingers.

Trotter and Josh’s backs snapped straight at the uttered word.  “Understood. Injury Report.” Trotter’s worried tone was replaced by a professional, authoritarian one.

“Beth, Leah and Rachel were killed during the attack. Sarah was wounded. She just succumbed. Ariel sustained light injuries - laceration to the right leg and puncture to the left arm.” Ruthie took a shaky breath.

Dean eyed the black haired girl still leaning against the sink. Her right pant leg was cut off high up on her thigh and gauze surrounded her upper leg from hip to knee. More gauze was wrapped around her left upper arm. Other than that and a few smudges of soot, she appeared unharmed. His eyes narrowed. How was it in a fight where four girls lost their lives, Ariel managed with a few scratches?

“Continue.” Trotter’s voice was detached, militaristic. Sam shuddered at the memory of their father’s early morning training drills.

“Casey,” Ruthie’s voice was soft, but strained like a harp string strung too tight. “I don’t know the extent before they took her, but it was bad.” Ruthie’s body started to slip down the front of the cabinets behind her like talking was draining her of her energy.

“And yourself?” Trotter’s steely calm was breaking. He stepped forward and slid an arm around her waist to support her.

Water pooled along Ruthie’s lower lid. “They took her,” she whispered.

“Ruthie,” Trotter’s voice was back to brotherly. He cupped his sister’s cheek and turned her vacant eyes toward him. “How bad are you hurt?”

Mechanically, she pulled her trembling hand away from her side and revealed three gashes extending down her ribcage and across the soft flesh of her abdomen. Dean stepped closer. Those looked like when Sam was attacked by the “Skinwalker.”

“No,” Ruthie gasped, pressing her shaking hand back to her side, blood still waterfalling over her pale fingers. “Daevas.”

“Shadow demons?”  Trotter jutted his chin toward the drawer next to Josh, guiding Ruthie to one of the remaining intact barstools.

“Yes,” she grunted, lowering onto the padded seat.

Dean looked at Sam who shrugged and shook his head slightly. “What’s a diva?”

“Daeva,” Josh enunciated, stepping around Ariel to open the drawer and tossing Trotter a dishtowel.  “They’re Zoroastrian demons. Sorta’ like underworld pitbulls. They’re wild though, all id. This,” he motioned around at the disarray, “this is organized and planned.”

“This is organized and planned?” Dean couldn’t keep the incredulous tone out of his voice.

“Yes,” Trotter answered, wincing each time Ruthie’s hissed as he tried to stem the blood from her side. “They killed the dogs and horses so they couldn’t warn anyone. Then it looks like they took out the power. They can only survive in the shadows, without lights they had free reign around the house.”

“It’s more than,” Ruthie panted, “that.” Dean shot a glance to his brother. Even in the faint moonlight and glow of the computer, Ruthie looked grey and sweaty. “Someone’s bound the damn thing. A blonde with close cropped hair. Called herself Meg, but I think that was just her meatsuit’s name.” Ruthie wavered dangerously on the stool. “Remember the hellspawn that Casey and Zoe took out? The one after Joey was born?”

Sam jolted, words from the over three years ago filtering through his mind.

Zoe and I finally caught up with this demon, some big deal hell spawn, named Tom. I… convinced him to tell us what he knew about why Sam had a price on his head.

Josh’s body was so rigid, Dean feared it would snap. Trotter looked up from where he knelt in front of his sister. The towel in his hand was quickly turning from white to pink to red as Ruthie’s blood saturated the fibers. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Meg was his sister.” The hand Ruthie had on the marble countertop keeping her upright slipped, accumulated sweat making the flesh and granite slick. She caught herself, crying out at the sudden change in position.

Sam’s mind replayed that long ago conversation.

“Zoe’s dead,” Casey managed, biting her lower lip. “Tom’s sister took exception to us sending him back downstairs and decided to kill two birds with one stone - get Joss and a little payback. Zoe protected us, gave me enough time to get away with him and it cost her her life.”

His stomach lurched, get Joss. “Is she going after Joey? Is that what she was looking for?” Sam fumbled in his pocket for his phone.

“No.” Ruthie swatted her brother’s hand away when he tried to keep her seated. Taking the towel from Trotter, she used the counter as a crutch and she made her way toward the younger Winchester. “No. She said something about it not being Joey’s time yet. This was all revenge…on Casey. Meg bound the Leyak to her and had us goose chasing it all over. Killing kids before Casey could save them to torture her. Meg realized yesterday that you were here and was worried that you’d tip the balance in Casey’s favor, get in the way of her vengeance. She decided to threaten Joey, knowing Casey would ship you all off for your own protection. Bitch wasn’t stupid enough to tangle with us and the Winchesters. “

“How do you even know this?” Dean’s brows furrowed.

“Fucking cunt was monologuing. It was like watching an old Batman TV show. She’d already killed,” Ruthie’s eyes dropped to large dark stains on the hardwood floors. “Me and Casey were being held by stunt demons and she was fucking monologuing.”

Trotter came over and pushed the towel away, examining the gaping wounds. “Why aren’t these healing?” He murmured angrily.

Ruthie looked down, frowning, before she lifted her hand to the back of her neck. “Check back here. I thought one of the demons bit me, but maybe…”

Trotter rose and pushed Ruthie dark hair away, revealing an angry burn at the nape of her neck. Looking close, Sam could see it formed an intricate pattern. “What the fuck is that?” Trotter’s voice sounded odd.

“Rune of some kind,” Ariel answered, standing on her tiptoes to see over the massive man’s shoulder. “Not one of ours though.”

“Steve, pull one of the burners off the stove and hand it here.  Anyone got a lighter?” Trotter pushed lightly on Ruthie’s back, forcing her to bend over the counter and rest her weight on her elbows.

“Here,” Dean pulled his Zippo from the front pocket of his jeans, tossing it lightly to the other man. “What are you going to do?”

“Break the rune.” Trotter said grimly. He took the metal coil from Steve and flicked Dean’s lighter to life, the flame dancing merrily just underneath the dislodged burner.

“You’re going to burn her?” Sam said awed. He looked to the other men, Steve petting a soothing hand down Ruthie’s back and Josh staring at the open laptop, both men resolutely avoiding his gaze.

“She’s bleeding, Sam. Badly and it won’t stop. If this rune is what’s keeping her from healing then it has to be done.” He held up the metal, one curve glowing red from the applied heat, before setting the flame to it again. “Steve, her hands please. Sam, can you and Dean hold her upper body? If she jerks, I’ll burn her worse than necessary.”

Steve moved to the other side of the counter, leaning far across the expanse to link his fingers with Ruthie’s. He looked straight into her eyes as his thumb traced an arc over hers. “I’m right here, Ruthie. You hold onto me and it will be over in a minute.”

Dean and Sam moved to the girl’s side, bending low enough to press their fronts to her shoulders and flanks. They looped their arms around her torso, hands gripping the others biceps, to form a complete cage of flesh and muscle. Once settled, Dean nodded to Trotter.

The bear of a man blew out the lighter and stepped up behind his sister, boxing her in with his body. “On three, Ruthie. One, two, three…I’m sorry.” The apology was barely above a whisper as the reddened metal touched creamy skin.

Ruthie’s scream rent the air and her body jerked spasmodically, nerve endings firing faster than the speed of light to urge her away from the scorching heat. Sam watched wide-eyed as the mark sizzled and turned black. The sudden silence was deafening, the echo of the girls cry still reverberating through his mind. Sam felt a pull against his body. Like the ebbing tide trying to draw you out to sea, he felt his body being pulled toward Ruthie. All the air in the room moved past him, Ruthie a vortex sucking it all to her, robbing it from the room and their lungs. Sam started to panic, his body clawing for oxygen as each breath was stolen and yet he held on. An eerie stillness settled over the vacuous room then Ruthie reared up throwing the men off of her, screaming to the ceiling as the room exploded in white light.

Dean landed hard, pain shooting down his leg as his hip hit the tiled floor. He looked up in time to see Ruthie’s rigid body slump and slide down the cabinet. He jumped up, wincing as another jolt of pain zinged through his thigh, and caught her before she hit the floor. He gently lowered her into the open arms of her brother.

Everyone’s eyes held the same dazed look even Ariel, who’d stood silent and forgotten for the last few minutes, regarded the unconscious girl with a look of awed trepidation.

“What the hell was that?” Josh stood, dusting off his pants. He quickly turned to the laptop on the counter, righting it and sighing in relief.

“It was whatever they used to bind her powers releasing,” Trotter shook his head, one hand banging the side of his head before exchanging the hold on his sister so the other could do the same to the other side. He lifted up her tattered shirt to expose the deep gashes. The blood had finally stopped and the clotting process had started. “Thank God. I need to stitch those before it’s too far in the healing process. Help me get her up?” He asked the room at large.

“We’ll take her to my room.” Steve squatted and scooped the petite girl in his arms. He straightened up, stumbling a little with the added weight. Dean placed a bracing hand behind the man’s back until he regained his balance.

“Go ahead. I’ll be there in a minute.” Trotter ran a hand over his face.  Steve shifted the girl in his arms for a better grip and a piece of paper fluttered to the floor, dislodged from Ruthie’s back pocket by the change in position. Absently, Sam picked it up, standing in time to see Steve disappear through the door to his room. “Josh,” Trotter addressed the red-haired man, “contact the Campus and let them know what happened here and that Casey is MIA. Let them know we’ll be launching a retrieval team soon and I will let them know if we need additional resources.” Nodding, Josh pulled his cell phone from his pocket and stepped out the back door.

“What do you mean you’ll let them know,” Ariel hissed, eyes narrowed. “Casey’s gone and Ruthie’s down, that leaves me in charge.”

“No. It doesn’t. Ruthie relinquished command to me and Josh. Now, what did you do with the girls?” He pushed passed the seething girl to reach under the sink for a red tackle box.

“No, she didn’t. I was standing right here. I’m next in the chain of command.”

“Jackal.” He said firmly, flipping the lid on the box to reveal rows of neatly packed medical supplies - gauze, vials, needles, syringes, tape.

Ariel stepped back like Trotter’s words were a physical blow. “Wh-why would she do that?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. It’s done. Now where are the girls?” He slammed the lid shut, engaging the clasp before lifting from the counter.

Ariel flicked stunned eyes to a door off the kitchen. “I moved them to the training room.”

“Collect the necklaces and prepare them.” He looked up as Josh entered. They’re eyes locked and Josh nodded. Trotter nodded in return. “Josh, can you see what the hell Ruthie thought was so important on that computer?” Wordlessly, Josh moved to the computer and Trotter carried the case into Steve’s room.

They stood in the quiet of the house for a long while, the only sounds the clicking of Josh’s fingers on the computer keys and soft murmurs of the two men stitching Ruthie in the next room. Ariel remained at the counter, eyes far away and vacant, as she bit a rough cuticle on the side of her thumb. Dean looked over at his brother, Sam’s eyes were darting from one dark stain on the floor to another. Large, amorphous stains where each slain girl had lain. The splotches clearly indicated copious amounts of blood and something about that niggled the back of Dean’s mind. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ariel move toward the door that apparently led to the training room. His eyes caught on the flash of white against tanned skin as her arm and leg moved.

“Where were you tonight?” He asked, glowering at the pristine bandage on her leg then raising his eyes to the one on her arm.

“It was just me and Casey and Ruthie in here. When things started, Casey sent me out to find the others. I looked but couldn’t find anyone. When I got back, it was over. The girls must have come in the front after I went out the back. I got a parting shot from one of the daevas.” She dipped her head to indicate her injuries.

“So Casey sent you away in the middle of showdown?” Sam questioned and Dean could see the pieces of the puzzle snapping into place in Sam’s mind just as they were in his own. Casey didn’t trust Ariel. She’d felt the other girl was a threat and sent her away during the battle and now Ruthie refused to hand over control to her. At the counter, Josh’s tapping slowed as he looked over his shoulder at the trio.

“Yeah,” she answered, shooting them hard looks. “She sent me for reinforcements.” Her hands went to her hips. “What are you insinuating?”

Josh turned to face them fully. “No one is insinuating anything, Ariel. Now, please go to the girls and remember to bring me the medallions. I need to send them to their families.”

Ariel shot him a withering glare then nodded. As the door to the training room slammed shut, Josh leaned back against the counter. “Fuck!”

“Casey really thinks that Ariel would turn against her?” Sam stared at the closed door.

“Jackal protocol was Casey’s invention. It’s a way to bypass chain of command. Ever since Sam was attacked on her property in North Carolina, Casey’s believed someone on the inside was working against her. There was no other explanation for those things finding you that day.  Only people on her Guard knew where Casey and Zoe’s home was.” He said in way of answer, knuckles digging into his tired eyes.

“If she suspected a double cross then why didn’t she ever confront the bitch?” Dean crossed his arms, leaning his hip.

“No proof,” Josh shrugged, turning back to the computer. “Ariel’s mother is high ranking and Casey can’t just make those kind of accusation without it.”

“They must not have enough yet,” Trotter walked back into the room, wiping his hands on a hand towel. Steve trailed after him, leaning against the open doorway to his room.

“What makes you say that?” Sam moved next to Dean and pressed his hip against his brothers.

“Ariel’d be dead,” Trotter answered simply.

“Ruthie all stitched up?” The screen behind Josh flicked from green to blue.

“Yep. She’s still out, though. Whatever that was it wiped her out.” He crossed to Josh and looked over the man’s shoulder. “You figure out what she was doing on this thing?”

“Yeah, look,” He clicked the wireless mouse as the rest of the group crowded around behind him. A map of Florida filled the screen, a blinking, blue dot moved up the center of the state. “She activated Casey’s tracking chip. They’re taking her north.”

“Tracking chip?” Sam stepped back, eyes finding his brother’s.

“After Casey made her deal, the powers that be decided to have a tracking chip implanted in her. Those few months after Joey was born, she was a phantom, vapor. They never realized before that Casey had the ability to just…disappear.”  Trotter rubbed the back of his neck, massaging the tense muscles Dean could see knotted there.

“So basically we follow the bouncing blue ball?” Dean pointed to the blinking light slowly making it’s way up the interstate.

“Yep.”

“We’re gonna’ need some gear and a set of wheels too. Where do you keep your stuff?” Dean clapped his hands together and rubbed them back and forth.

“What makes you think you’re going?” Trotter rose to his full height. “I let you stay because you were causing a scene at the airport and I didn’t have time for it. I never said anything about letting you go after her?”

“Look,” Sam started, surreptitiously stepping between the two men, “you and Josh have your hands full with Ariel right now and Steve’s not that confident with the whole ‘gunfight at the OK Corral’ part of the job. No offense, man,” he shot a look over at Steve still leaning against the door jamb.

“None taken,” Steve raised a hand, shaking his head slightly.

“Dean and I are your best bet. They’ve got about a two hour head start on us and if we leave now, with Dean’s driving, we should be able to cut that in half.” Sam stared eye to eye with Trotter and let his resolve and determination shine through. “We’ll bring her home.”

Trotter deliberated for a moment then looked over to Josh, who was biting his bottom lip and staring at the map. “You understand that more than likely she’ll have a rune like Ruthie’s.  You’ll have to break it,” he tapped his fingers on one of the remaining burners on the stove, “Can you do that? Can you burn her like we just did Ruthie?”

“We’ll do whatever it takes.” Dean snatched his Zippo from the counter and tucked it into the front of his jeans