"Lost and Found: Wrought Asunder"
Title: Wrought Asunder
’Verse: Lost and Found
Author: LadyMacbeth
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG13 (for some cussin’)
Word Count: 1999
Disclaimer: “Supernatural” and all its characters belong to the genius that is Eric Kripke. I make no profit.
Summary: Missouri reveals a secret to the boys that send them on a journey to Santa Cruz where they find a brother they never knew and an even darker revelation that none of them saw coming.
The story so far:
Santa Cruz
The Road to Missouri
Revelations
Look Back, Leap Forward
Second Sight
Fury and Fitchburg
Conjoined
Distant Voices
The Warning
And now:
*****
When Sam gets out of the shower, there’s a bag waiting for him on his bed. He recognizes the logo of the electronics store they had stopped in, but is nonetheless curious about its origin.
“S’for you,” a voice says to his left, making him jump.
Sam curses himself when he hears Priestly laugh gently, steadying himself and grabbing hold of his loosened towel.
“For me?” he manages stupidly.
Priestly nods from his reclined position on the other bed. “Picked it up back in town before the whole ‘guitar-thing’ got underway.”
“How…?” Sam starts, not really sure how to ask the question without sounding like a dick.
Thankfully, Priestly understands reads Sam’s unasked question and explains. “After my psycho, pseudo-mom offed herself, all her money and possessions went to me. I’ve got the money now, and the girls back in Santa Cruz have been selling off Crazy Mom’s stuff and putting the money in my account. I didn’t want to say anything, but she was pretty well off, despite appearances. Most of her assets she hid in multiple accounts… but the lawyers found it all and, after taking a giant cut of course, they’ve handed it over to me.”
Priestly just shrugs his shoulders.
“Does Dean know?” Sam ventured, stunned by the fact that someone in their little troop actually had money.
“Not yet,” Priestly said cautiously, “but I planned to let him know tonight when I take the three of us to the steak house we passed on the way here.”
Sam has to smirk. “What? You’re not sick of burgers and convenience store burritos, are you?”
Priestly shudders and sits up straight on the bed. “I think if I eat anymore of that stuff, my taste buds and stomach are going to join forces and mutiny.”
Sam laughs. “Ya, I know what you mean.”
Finally plunking down on his bed next to the package, Sam speaks almost to himself. “I don’t think Dean’s ever actually had real steak.” But he quickly lifts himself out from under the sudden cloud and glances at Priestly, who looks like he’s trying to figure out what to say.
“So,” Sam says, feeling the cloud evaporate. “What did you get me?”
*****
Sam is still excitedly exploring his new computer programs and upgrades when Dean walks in with the bag of clean laundry.
Grumbling about rock, paper, scissors, he tosses the bag onto the floor and flops onto Priestly’s bed, narrowly missing him.
Almost immediately, Dean turns his head towards Sam’s enthusiastic claking and notes with a raised eyebrow that his younger brother is still in a towel.
“Dude,” he says. “You have clean pants now. I suggest you make use of them.”
Sam flips Dean off without even looking up or halting the typing of his left hand.
Dean grumbles an insult in response and rolls onto his back next to Priestly. “What’s with him?” he asks his twin, noticing almost instantly the little smile tugging at the green-haired boy’s lips.
“I got him some new software for the supernatural archiving program he’s creating,” Priestly says, as if he clarified everything.
Dean just raises an eyebrow.
“It’s a technophile thing,” his twin laughs after reading his expression. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”
Priestly dodges the swat in the arm Dean tries to give him.
“So you got Sammy a present… where’s mine?” he settles for instead.
But his twin just smiles down at him.
“How do you feel about steak?”
*****
Dean is in love.
Never has he tasted anything so juicy and savory and wonderful and…
“Dean, it’s not polite to orgasm at the dinner table.”
Sam smirks back at him when Dean pulls himself from his reverie to glare across the table at his little brother. He’d respond, but that would mean opening his mouth for something other than more steak.
Seeing Priestly smile out of the corner of his eye, Dean turns to him and, with his mouth still engaged in chewing, tries to convey a look of total and everlasting devotion.
Priestly just grins wider before taking another swig of his beer.
*****
It’s a few hours later, and the boys are all lounging around their motel room, completely stuffed and lethargic.
“Oh God,” Dean moans from his facedown position on his bed for the ten billionth time, “that was so good.”
“Shut up, Dean,” Sam sighs again from behind his laptop.
“But,” Dean persists, “so good.”
“Argh! That’s it!” Sam finally blurts, throwing his hands in the air. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the park behind the motel. Priestly, you’re welcome to join me whenever you get sick of him.”
Priestly, sprawled out on Sam’s bed, watches the younger boy grab his laptop and stand, heading for the door. “I may do that, but for now, I’m going to stay here and make sure he doesn’t drown in his own drool.”
Sam shudders and exits, leaving the twins alone.
“God, I thought he’d never leave.”
Priestly barely has time to react before Dean is on top of him, food-related lethargy gone in a flash, replaced by roving hands and a hungry mouth.
“Wha-” Priestly tries to speak, but his mouth is quickly covered with Dean’s.
Priestly feels all the blood in his body rush south as Dean straddles him and starts tugging on the hem of his shirt. The pace is quick, but sure and when Priestly feels Dean’s hands leave his shirt to tangle in his hair, he knows that he can finally give in.
*****
It’s dark outside now, the sun having long ago retreated to its own bed.
Two bodies join it in slumber while the third stares out the window at the sun’s replacement.
Priestly shifts within Dean’s unconscious tentacle hold and feels his body moan in protest. He winces as his muscles grudgingly rise to action, only to sigh when he settles again a fraction of a second later.
Priestly doesn’t think he’s ever been so sore in his entire life.
Dean snuffles beside him and tightens his grip, nuzzling into Priestly’s neck.
But then, Priestly doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy, either.
*****
A million miles away on another plane of existence, an ancient, forgotten being wanders through a great temple. It extends a massive, clawed hand to the wall, tracing the markings that decorate it.
Exquisite, it purrs in a language that has been dead since the time of Christ.
They tell a story, the markings. An old story. One many have forgotten and even more can no longer read. The symbols and words are eons old; older then the ancient creature itself. The story was told to it when it was just a fledgling, meant to scare it. A “camp fire story”, the little children call them.
But it would not be scared so easily.
Instead, when the mystics foresaw the Coming, the Great Threat, the ancient beast volunteered for the mission. It was not afraid. It did not fear the prophecy. No matter what the mystics said.
The great demon empire would not be wrought asunder by a pair of human children.
So it trained. For years and years, it trained. It learned everything it could about all forms of combat, both physical and mystical. It strengthened its mind through meditation in the temple. It became an apprentice under the tutelage of the most skilled assassins. It even studied the prophecy and the mystics themselves, learning what it could about the Destroyers.
Even then, it had seemed like nonsense. That human children could make full blood demons tremble in fear.
But the creature knew one of the greatest mistakes you can make in combat is to underestimate your enemy.
And then, the day came when a great cry of fear rang through the temples of Hell.
The Destroyers had been conceived. The prophecy had begun. In nine human months, the beings that would be responsible for their destruction would crawl out of the womb, and into the world.
Now was the time to act.
For years, the beast’s life had been leading up to this moment. Years of preparation for the one moment when it would crossover into the land of the little human worms, and snuff out the threat while they were infants.
Years of training… years… to be dashed in a moment.
They are not to be harmed, the elder lord had snarled, his yellow eyes reflecting the fire all around him. The eldest of the two has a greater purpose still, and he cannot be destroyed. Therefore neither shall be killed, for to destroy one would be to destroy them both. The arrogant demon smiled. They share the same soul, after all. It’s what makes them such a threat, is it not?
The beast had wanted to snap the demon’s neck right there on the spot. How dare he swagger into its life and order it around, dashing the plans that had been in motion for nearly a hundred years.
How dare he think he could manipulate the prophecy.
He was single-handedly jeopardizing every demon in Hell with his “plan”.
The beast was disgusted. And it was only the demon’s rank that kept it from lashing out. It was a mere soldier, and would be destroyed for striking a demon of a superior class.
But the beast had snarled in anger just the same.
It remembered the contempt and arrogance that poured from the yellow eyes of the demon as it enlightened the beast to the new plan. When they were born, the Destroyers were to be separated, not killed. Due to the significance of what would be the older of the two, neither could be killed. Instead, the younger of the two would be spirited away, taken and hidden by a human under the demon’s control, allowing the older to play his part in another’s destiny.
The beast had listened to the grand plan of the demon and scoffed before it could stop itself.
The yellow eyes had blazed with anger.
A problem? the demon had purred, daring the beast to speak.
To its regret, the beast held its tongue, silently furious.
The demon had simply smiled in return.
The beast knew, somehow, even then, that something would go wrong. Somewhere, someone would make a mistake. The yellow-eyed demon was too cocky, and any good soldier knew: cockiness got you killed.
The beast pulled itself from its memories. There was a task at hand, and all focus needed to be on it. The Destroyers were powerful now. Much more powerful than any of the mystics had predicted, and their abilities were developing at an alarming rate.
There was no more time to adhere to the plans or wills of others. The beast knew it was time to do what was supposed to have been done over two decades ago.
No one would stand in the way of its mission.
And with that sentiment, the beast approached the Great Doors of Ascension located within the centre of the grand Temple.
A demon, a once powerful being, reduced to a mere watchdog, stood ahead of the entrance, given the task of guarding it for eternity. A cruel punishment for a demon so fond of escaping to the surface to torture the humans.
“No one passes,” she snarled in a filthy human dialect. “Especially not ugly little trolls like you,” she sneered, eyeing the beast up and down with a familiar look of contempt.
The beast’s nose twitched.
Yes. There it was. The beast could smell the demon’s lineage. The same arrogant smell of a family with delusions of grandeur.
The beast took a step towards the door and the female.
“Hey, asshole,” she snarled again. “I told you, no one passes. Who do you think you are? You’re just lower class trash. Muscle with no brains. You can’t do anything to me. Don’t you know who I am?”
Yes, the beast purred, and ripped the little insect in half.
*****
To be continued…
’Verse: Lost and Found
Author: LadyMacbeth
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG13 (for some cussin’)
Word Count: 1999
Disclaimer: “Supernatural” and all its characters belong to the genius that is Eric Kripke. I make no profit.
Summary: Missouri reveals a secret to the boys that send them on a journey to Santa Cruz where they find a brother they never knew and an even darker revelation that none of them saw coming.
The story so far:
Santa Cruz
The Road to Missouri
Revelations
Look Back, Leap Forward
Second Sight
Fury and Fitchburg
Conjoined
Distant Voices
The Warning
And now:
*****
When Sam gets out of the shower, there’s a bag waiting for him on his bed. He recognizes the logo of the electronics store they had stopped in, but is nonetheless curious about its origin.
“S’for you,” a voice says to his left, making him jump.
Sam curses himself when he hears Priestly laugh gently, steadying himself and grabbing hold of his loosened towel.
“For me?” he manages stupidly.
Priestly nods from his reclined position on the other bed. “Picked it up back in town before the whole ‘guitar-thing’ got underway.”
“How…?” Sam starts, not really sure how to ask the question without sounding like a dick.
Thankfully, Priestly understands reads Sam’s unasked question and explains. “After my psycho, pseudo-mom offed herself, all her money and possessions went to me. I’ve got the money now, and the girls back in Santa Cruz have been selling off Crazy Mom’s stuff and putting the money in my account. I didn’t want to say anything, but she was pretty well off, despite appearances. Most of her assets she hid in multiple accounts… but the lawyers found it all and, after taking a giant cut of course, they’ve handed it over to me.”
Priestly just shrugs his shoulders.
“Does Dean know?” Sam ventured, stunned by the fact that someone in their little troop actually had money.
“Not yet,” Priestly said cautiously, “but I planned to let him know tonight when I take the three of us to the steak house we passed on the way here.”
Sam has to smirk. “What? You’re not sick of burgers and convenience store burritos, are you?”
Priestly shudders and sits up straight on the bed. “I think if I eat anymore of that stuff, my taste buds and stomach are going to join forces and mutiny.”
Sam laughs. “Ya, I know what you mean.”
Finally plunking down on his bed next to the package, Sam speaks almost to himself. “I don’t think Dean’s ever actually had real steak.” But he quickly lifts himself out from under the sudden cloud and glances at Priestly, who looks like he’s trying to figure out what to say.
“So,” Sam says, feeling the cloud evaporate. “What did you get me?”
*****
Sam is still excitedly exploring his new computer programs and upgrades when Dean walks in with the bag of clean laundry.
Grumbling about rock, paper, scissors, he tosses the bag onto the floor and flops onto Priestly’s bed, narrowly missing him.
Almost immediately, Dean turns his head towards Sam’s enthusiastic claking and notes with a raised eyebrow that his younger brother is still in a towel.
“Dude,” he says. “You have clean pants now. I suggest you make use of them.”
Sam flips Dean off without even looking up or halting the typing of his left hand.
Dean grumbles an insult in response and rolls onto his back next to Priestly. “What’s with him?” he asks his twin, noticing almost instantly the little smile tugging at the green-haired boy’s lips.
“I got him some new software for the supernatural archiving program he’s creating,” Priestly says, as if he clarified everything.
Dean just raises an eyebrow.
“It’s a technophile thing,” his twin laughs after reading his expression. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”
Priestly dodges the swat in the arm Dean tries to give him.
“So you got Sammy a present… where’s mine?” he settles for instead.
But his twin just smiles down at him.
“How do you feel about steak?”
*****
Dean is in love.
Never has he tasted anything so juicy and savory and wonderful and…
“Dean, it’s not polite to orgasm at the dinner table.”
Sam smirks back at him when Dean pulls himself from his reverie to glare across the table at his little brother. He’d respond, but that would mean opening his mouth for something other than more steak.
Seeing Priestly smile out of the corner of his eye, Dean turns to him and, with his mouth still engaged in chewing, tries to convey a look of total and everlasting devotion.
Priestly just grins wider before taking another swig of his beer.
*****
It’s a few hours later, and the boys are all lounging around their motel room, completely stuffed and lethargic.
“Oh God,” Dean moans from his facedown position on his bed for the ten billionth time, “that was so good.”
“Shut up, Dean,” Sam sighs again from behind his laptop.
“But,” Dean persists, “so good.”
“Argh! That’s it!” Sam finally blurts, throwing his hands in the air. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the park behind the motel. Priestly, you’re welcome to join me whenever you get sick of him.”
Priestly, sprawled out on Sam’s bed, watches the younger boy grab his laptop and stand, heading for the door. “I may do that, but for now, I’m going to stay here and make sure he doesn’t drown in his own drool.”
Sam shudders and exits, leaving the twins alone.
“God, I thought he’d never leave.”
Priestly barely has time to react before Dean is on top of him, food-related lethargy gone in a flash, replaced by roving hands and a hungry mouth.
“Wha-” Priestly tries to speak, but his mouth is quickly covered with Dean’s.
Priestly feels all the blood in his body rush south as Dean straddles him and starts tugging on the hem of his shirt. The pace is quick, but sure and when Priestly feels Dean’s hands leave his shirt to tangle in his hair, he knows that he can finally give in.
*****
It’s dark outside now, the sun having long ago retreated to its own bed.
Two bodies join it in slumber while the third stares out the window at the sun’s replacement.
Priestly shifts within Dean’s unconscious tentacle hold and feels his body moan in protest. He winces as his muscles grudgingly rise to action, only to sigh when he settles again a fraction of a second later.
Priestly doesn’t think he’s ever been so sore in his entire life.
Dean snuffles beside him and tightens his grip, nuzzling into Priestly’s neck.
But then, Priestly doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy, either.
*****
A million miles away on another plane of existence, an ancient, forgotten being wanders through a great temple. It extends a massive, clawed hand to the wall, tracing the markings that decorate it.
Exquisite, it purrs in a language that has been dead since the time of Christ.
They tell a story, the markings. An old story. One many have forgotten and even more can no longer read. The symbols and words are eons old; older then the ancient creature itself. The story was told to it when it was just a fledgling, meant to scare it. A “camp fire story”, the little children call them.
But it would not be scared so easily.
Instead, when the mystics foresaw the Coming, the Great Threat, the ancient beast volunteered for the mission. It was not afraid. It did not fear the prophecy. No matter what the mystics said.
The great demon empire would not be wrought asunder by a pair of human children.
So it trained. For years and years, it trained. It learned everything it could about all forms of combat, both physical and mystical. It strengthened its mind through meditation in the temple. It became an apprentice under the tutelage of the most skilled assassins. It even studied the prophecy and the mystics themselves, learning what it could about the Destroyers.
Even then, it had seemed like nonsense. That human children could make full blood demons tremble in fear.
But the creature knew one of the greatest mistakes you can make in combat is to underestimate your enemy.
And then, the day came when a great cry of fear rang through the temples of Hell.
The Destroyers had been conceived. The prophecy had begun. In nine human months, the beings that would be responsible for their destruction would crawl out of the womb, and into the world.
Now was the time to act.
For years, the beast’s life had been leading up to this moment. Years of preparation for the one moment when it would crossover into the land of the little human worms, and snuff out the threat while they were infants.
Years of training… years… to be dashed in a moment.
They are not to be harmed, the elder lord had snarled, his yellow eyes reflecting the fire all around him. The eldest of the two has a greater purpose still, and he cannot be destroyed. Therefore neither shall be killed, for to destroy one would be to destroy them both. The arrogant demon smiled. They share the same soul, after all. It’s what makes them such a threat, is it not?
The beast had wanted to snap the demon’s neck right there on the spot. How dare he swagger into its life and order it around, dashing the plans that had been in motion for nearly a hundred years.
How dare he think he could manipulate the prophecy.
He was single-handedly jeopardizing every demon in Hell with his “plan”.
The beast was disgusted. And it was only the demon’s rank that kept it from lashing out. It was a mere soldier, and would be destroyed for striking a demon of a superior class.
But the beast had snarled in anger just the same.
It remembered the contempt and arrogance that poured from the yellow eyes of the demon as it enlightened the beast to the new plan. When they were born, the Destroyers were to be separated, not killed. Due to the significance of what would be the older of the two, neither could be killed. Instead, the younger of the two would be spirited away, taken and hidden by a human under the demon’s control, allowing the older to play his part in another’s destiny.
The beast had listened to the grand plan of the demon and scoffed before it could stop itself.
The yellow eyes had blazed with anger.
A problem? the demon had purred, daring the beast to speak.
To its regret, the beast held its tongue, silently furious.
The demon had simply smiled in return.
The beast knew, somehow, even then, that something would go wrong. Somewhere, someone would make a mistake. The yellow-eyed demon was too cocky, and any good soldier knew: cockiness got you killed.
The beast pulled itself from its memories. There was a task at hand, and all focus needed to be on it. The Destroyers were powerful now. Much more powerful than any of the mystics had predicted, and their abilities were developing at an alarming rate.
There was no more time to adhere to the plans or wills of others. The beast knew it was time to do what was supposed to have been done over two decades ago.
No one would stand in the way of its mission.
And with that sentiment, the beast approached the Great Doors of Ascension located within the centre of the grand Temple.
A demon, a once powerful being, reduced to a mere watchdog, stood ahead of the entrance, given the task of guarding it for eternity. A cruel punishment for a demon so fond of escaping to the surface to torture the humans.
“No one passes,” she snarled in a filthy human dialect. “Especially not ugly little trolls like you,” she sneered, eyeing the beast up and down with a familiar look of contempt.
The beast’s nose twitched.
Yes. There it was. The beast could smell the demon’s lineage. The same arrogant smell of a family with delusions of grandeur.
The beast took a step towards the door and the female.
“Hey, asshole,” she snarled again. “I told you, no one passes. Who do you think you are? You’re just lower class trash. Muscle with no brains. You can’t do anything to me. Don’t you know who I am?”
Yes, the beast purred, and ripped the little insect in half.
*****
To be continued…