Fic: Wild By Skye (22/27)
Dean felt disconnected, like he was walking in a fog without sensation, without feeling, as he entered his father's room at the Sunspots Motel. John was poring over a spread of papers and an open book on the small room table. He turned to his son and smiled warmly. "Dean… hey, kiddo. How you holding up?"
Dean could only manage a shrug as he closed the door behind him.
"You ready to get this thing out of you?" John asked with a light of the man of action in his eyes.
He was talking about the wolf like it was a parasite. A possessing demon to be exorcised. Something evil to be destroyed.
'You're talking about me! You're going to destroy me, Dad!' he would have screamed if he could feel anymore. A pervasive numbness had set in, and Dean just didn't anything anymore. He felt like he was dead already.
"What is it going to take?" Dean asked flatly.
"Well… you're not going to like it," John warned.
Dean felt a sick, twisted half-smile contort his features at that. If only his father knew.
John dug around in his things and pulled out a leather pouch amulet dangling from a rope. He held it up for Dean to see. It was adorned with a feather and short lengths of beads… it looked like a piece of faux-authentic Indian jewelry sold at a tourist trap anywhere in the American southwest. A peculiar and pungent smell was wafting up from it.
"What's that?" Dean asked because he was expected to.
"Essential piece of arsenal we'll need to do this." John dropped the amulet back on the table. "From the information I've gathered on this 'sickness' you have, it integrates into the host on a very fundamental level. Meaning it's going to be a real bitch to get out. Essentially, we have to invite a demon into you."
Dean knew that should have made him balk. He should have been appalled and railed at the mere suggestion. He should have at least voiced a concern. Instead he just waited for more. It was like they were talking about someone he had never met before. This wasn't going to be happening to him. He felt entirely detached.
John mistook Dean's silence as an indication of Dean's blind faith in John, like the good little soldier and obedient son Dean was. John seemed pleased with Dean's lack of objections, in any case. "Luckily, the one we need isn't going to be as nasty as the demons we'd normally deal with. There was a tribe of Native Americans, indigenous to this region - which is why it needed to be done in California - that had some kind of blood feud with lycanthropes way back in the day. They took their hate for them to the grave and beyond."
Dean didn't like the sound of them.
"The amulet will serve as a focal point, a kind of demon beacon, if you will. It's designed to attract the demon spirit of a shaman of this particular tribe that hated lycanthropes. In their own right, these Indian shamans were the hunters of their day. They fought the same unnatural forces we do, but with cruder tools.
"Anyway, we call forth this shaman spirit, let it possess you, and when it's in there it's going to know that wolf is in there, too." John smiled, almost wickedly. "This demon won't stand to share a host with that wolf. The demon spirit of the shaman will be more furious about the wolf in you than it will care about tormenting you. It will destroy the lycanthrope infection. Then, when you're cured of it, I exorcise the demon and that should do it. You'll be free."
Dean heard his own voice as though from a great distance. "How long will it take?"
John looked down at his research. "We should be able to get it done tonight, but I have to warn you, Dean. This won't be pretty. It's going to be extremely painful. When the demon and the lycanthrope are duking it out inside you, you'll feel like you're being torn apart. In a sense, you will be. The lycanthropy has been in you for years; it's had time to settle and dig in, and it won't go without a fight."
Dean nodded infinitesimally. The wolf wouldn't let him go without a fight or he wouldn't let the wolf go without a fight? Did the distinction really matter?
John frowned at Dean. "Son… you all right?"
Dean sighed. His father didn't want the answer to that question. "Let's just get this over with."
John nodded, in complete agreement, and gestured to the single bed in the room. "I've prepared the bed."
Dean gave John a quizzical look.
John shrugged ruefully. "You're going to be possessed, Dean. I have to restrain you."
Dean noticed them now, the straps that had been secured to the bed at the bedposts at each corner, four points to hold Dean down.
If he was still half alive, he would have made some crack about his father being a kinky son of a bitch.
Instead, Dean made his way to the bed, feeling like an observer outside of his own body. As he shed his jacket and got on the bed to let his father tie him down, he tried to imagine this same time tomorrow afternoon, when the wolf would be gone and it would just be him inside.
Dean couldn't imagine it. And more importantly, didn't want to.
Twenty-Three
Dean could only manage a shrug as he closed the door behind him.
"You ready to get this thing out of you?" John asked with a light of the man of action in his eyes.
He was talking about the wolf like it was a parasite. A possessing demon to be exorcised. Something evil to be destroyed.
'You're talking about me! You're going to destroy me, Dad!' he would have screamed if he could feel anymore. A pervasive numbness had set in, and Dean just didn't anything anymore. He felt like he was dead already.
"What is it going to take?" Dean asked flatly.
"Well… you're not going to like it," John warned.
Dean felt a sick, twisted half-smile contort his features at that. If only his father knew.
John dug around in his things and pulled out a leather pouch amulet dangling from a rope. He held it up for Dean to see. It was adorned with a feather and short lengths of beads… it looked like a piece of faux-authentic Indian jewelry sold at a tourist trap anywhere in the American southwest. A peculiar and pungent smell was wafting up from it.
"What's that?" Dean asked because he was expected to.
"Essential piece of arsenal we'll need to do this." John dropped the amulet back on the table. "From the information I've gathered on this 'sickness' you have, it integrates into the host on a very fundamental level. Meaning it's going to be a real bitch to get out. Essentially, we have to invite a demon into you."
Dean knew that should have made him balk. He should have been appalled and railed at the mere suggestion. He should have at least voiced a concern. Instead he just waited for more. It was like they were talking about someone he had never met before. This wasn't going to be happening to him. He felt entirely detached.
John mistook Dean's silence as an indication of Dean's blind faith in John, like the good little soldier and obedient son Dean was. John seemed pleased with Dean's lack of objections, in any case. "Luckily, the one we need isn't going to be as nasty as the demons we'd normally deal with. There was a tribe of Native Americans, indigenous to this region - which is why it needed to be done in California - that had some kind of blood feud with lycanthropes way back in the day. They took their hate for them to the grave and beyond."
Dean didn't like the sound of them.
"The amulet will serve as a focal point, a kind of demon beacon, if you will. It's designed to attract the demon spirit of a shaman of this particular tribe that hated lycanthropes. In their own right, these Indian shamans were the hunters of their day. They fought the same unnatural forces we do, but with cruder tools.
"Anyway, we call forth this shaman spirit, let it possess you, and when it's in there it's going to know that wolf is in there, too." John smiled, almost wickedly. "This demon won't stand to share a host with that wolf. The demon spirit of the shaman will be more furious about the wolf in you than it will care about tormenting you. It will destroy the lycanthrope infection. Then, when you're cured of it, I exorcise the demon and that should do it. You'll be free."
Dean heard his own voice as though from a great distance. "How long will it take?"
John looked down at his research. "We should be able to get it done tonight, but I have to warn you, Dean. This won't be pretty. It's going to be extremely painful. When the demon and the lycanthrope are duking it out inside you, you'll feel like you're being torn apart. In a sense, you will be. The lycanthropy has been in you for years; it's had time to settle and dig in, and it won't go without a fight."
Dean nodded infinitesimally. The wolf wouldn't let him go without a fight or he wouldn't let the wolf go without a fight? Did the distinction really matter?
John frowned at Dean. "Son… you all right?"
Dean sighed. His father didn't want the answer to that question. "Let's just get this over with."
John nodded, in complete agreement, and gestured to the single bed in the room. "I've prepared the bed."
Dean gave John a quizzical look.
John shrugged ruefully. "You're going to be possessed, Dean. I have to restrain you."
Dean noticed them now, the straps that had been secured to the bed at the bedposts at each corner, four points to hold Dean down.
If he was still half alive, he would have made some crack about his father being a kinky son of a bitch.
Instead, Dean made his way to the bed, feeling like an observer outside of his own body. As he shed his jacket and got on the bed to let his father tie him down, he tried to imagine this same time tomorrow afternoon, when the wolf would be gone and it would just be him inside.
Dean couldn't imagine it. And more importantly, didn't want to.
Twenty-Three