Lies Become Truth - Chapter 1
Title: Lies Become Truth
Summary: An attack by a gang of demons freshly freed from hell, leaves Dean unable to lie, at the top of FBI’s most wanted list and soon forced into an experimental psyche program. Meanwhile Sam and Bobby are left to unravel the full extent of the demons’ plans.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, violence, suggestive scenarios and implied M/M non-con.
Spoilers: Up to Season 3, 'Dream a Little Dream of Me'
Word Count: 6,698 for this part
Author's Note: This story is set early Season 3 post ‘The Magnificent Seven’ and assumes that Sam and Dean had their anti-demon possession tattoos by that point. Master post can be found here.
~~~
Camden, New Jersey
Dean stepped out of the car and looked guardedly around the dimly lit parking lot. As far as he was concerned they had driven around this city enough to see that they should just keep right on driving.
Instead he had stupidly let Sam talk him into parking his pride and joy here - in the middle of the parking lot from hell. This place was a freakin’ nightmare. The lot was boxed in on both sides by walls that had so much graffiti covering them there was no telling what color they had originally been painted.
Of course it wasn’t the walls he was worried about. There were several shady groups of guys just standing around in the shadows doing nothing good. One of the closer groups met his suspicious glare and looked to be equally sizing him and Sam up. Discreetly he slipped his pistol beneath his jacket. He should never have let Sam talk him into coming here. Cities sucked.
Here they didn’t just have demons to worry about, but people. As much as he hated demons, humans were harder to deal with. It wasn’t like he couldn’t physically take down an average joe all the faster than he could one possessed by a demon. It was just that you didn’t get to go around shooting people for being morons.
Like the guys that were eyeing his car right now. If it wasn’t so likely that they were just humans he would have taken them down already. They might still get lucky.
While he denied Sam’s accusations to the fullest, truth be told his trigger finger was a little itchier than usual lately. Some jerks deserved it and with the hell fire nipping his heels it wasn’t like he was sweating the possibility of damnation. He might as well take some worthy scumbags down with him.
“Dean?”
Forgetting about the human creeps he looked over the car to his brother who was watching him with concerned eyes. Sam practically had worry permanently tattooed on his face these days. It wasn’t that Dean blamed him. Roles reversed...well, he’d never let that happen. He just wanted Sam to stop worrying and get that this was what it was. And it wasn’t all bad.
Since he’d been four years old, Dean had never been sure on any given night whether he would live to see the next sunrise. That was life. But now it was easier. He was practically guaranteed a solid year and after that he was done.
No more fighting. No more anything. Sure, hell didn’t sound like a walk in the park, but how much worse could it really be than this world? Honestly a big part of him latched onto the idea that hell wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
The only thing stopping him from enjoying this last year was the one thing that could make it a blast. Sammy. His brother was stuck on the notion that by selling out his soul he’d done the same thing to Sam as Dad had done to him. But it just wasn’t like that. If Sam was too dense to get it then there was no point in explaining any of the rest to him.
Dean looked around once more, with his hand still set protectively on the roof of his car. “I say we let the demons have this place.”
“Dean...”
“I’m just saying....” But now Sam was giving him that ‘don’t be a baby’ look that somehow simultaneously managed to come off as both totally placating and comforting. “Fine. But if someone tags my car...dude, if they just keep looking at it funny - I’m shooting first and asking questions never.”
“I think they’re looking at you, not the car,” Sam replied with a barely concealed smirk.
“I take it back. I’m going to shoot you first.”
“Relax, Dean. You’re dressed like a federal agent. They’re not going to screw with your car.”
It showed how little Sam knew. If Dean was those guys he’d loved to screw with a fed’s car. Hell, even as himself he’d love to screw with a fed’s car. Especially one particular fed. A little thank you for the major pain in the ass they didn’t need while they were trying to save this sorry world. Not that it was right taking a man’s frustration out on an innocent car.
“Actually I’m dressed like a freakin’ loser,” he grumbled as he tugged at the too tight collar of the dress shirt. The collar was actually loose but it felt suffocating all the same.
“You look fine,” Sam assured him with a freaky ease.
Dean shot him a look and snorted. “Gee, that means the world to me, Sammy. You know I try to look my best for you.”
“Yeah...okay. But seriously, Dean, it’s the police, not the criminals we need to be looking out for,” Sam replied like that was some sort of sick comfort.
“You’re telling me.” He still wasn’t buying it. Not when it came to his car anyway. “The police aren’t going to smash my baby’s windows in.”
“I can go work this case myself if you two need some time alone out here...”
“Shut up.”
Finally Dean gave in and pushed the car door shut. Before following Sam he looked back to the guys that were watching him from the street corner. He sent them a lethal warning look and flashed them a glint from his pistol before he was suddenly yanked back by the scruff of his suit jacket.
“You’re such an idiot!” Sam growled.
Dean twisted out of his brother’s grip and hit at him when he tried to grab his arm. Here he was trying to prove that he wasn’t one to screw with and he had his little brother yanking him around like he was his mother.
“Dude, I’m marking my territory here.”
“Well, if you’re done pissing on the parking lot can we at least get inside the bar before you start a shootout?”
“Whatever. This is still all kinds of stupid.”
“Then it should be perfect for you.”
But girly Sam must have thought that had come out too harsh because his brother stopped walking and looked back at him like he was sorry. Sorry for what? They were brothers. It was their job to insult each other mercilessly. It was part of the fun and Dean wanted to have fun.
Instead he had Sam being all weirdly careful with him, trying to draw out a therapy session every other day, trying so damn hard to make him happy and to fix his whole little damnation problem. What Sam couldn’t work through his thick skull was that Dean didn’t want any of that. All he wanted was Sam alive and well. That was it.
It was his job to take care of his little brother as long as he was still alive and kicking. He didn’t want Sam to feel like he had to take care of him too. That wasn’t how it worked.
All Sam had to do was be Sam. Not the worried brother that talked to him like he was afraid he was going to break or who was mourning him like he was already burning down under. Dean just wanted to have a little fun and kick some serious demon ass before he died. And he wanted to do it with his brother fully present and playing along.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he grumbled as he waved Sam off. “Sign me up for bucket loads of crazy stupid. Really. But I’m just thinking if we let loose two hundred odd demons there have to be a few hanging out somewhere that isn’t going to get my car trashed.”
That got a weary sigh out of Sam, which he liked. It meant Sam was getting annoyed and annoyed Sam meant less unnecessarily worried Sam. He knew his brother wanted to tell him that he was going to hell, forget the damn car, but his brother had enough sense to keep that commentary to himself.
“Look, Dean, you’re the one that wanted to focus on hunting the demons and Bobby says that the signs point to this place being a serious hotbed. So let’s just focus, okay?”
“Sure. I’m totally focused. Undivided attention,” he assured Sam.
He surrendered for the moment because he really wanted a drink, a decent game of something involving bets and a woman that wasn’t charging for some quality time. It was a lot to ask of this dump, but he was holding out hope that he’d be pleasantly surprised.
As soon as they walked through the door all eyes were on them. Why wouldn’t they be? They were the only freaks in this place wearing cheap knock off designer suits. He’d tried to talk Sam out of the whole federal agent crap for this one, mostly because he didn’t want to spend any more of his precious remaining days in one of these stupid monkey suits.
But Sam had been insistent that no one around here was going to talk willingly even though Dean had argued the exact opposite - no one here was going to talk to a fed. In the end Sam had won. It was mostly because Sam had pouted and Dean could at best hold out against those big, sad puppy dog eyes for a whopping fifteen seconds before caving.
While they moved towards the bar Dean’s eyes were busy scanning the joint. Annoying humans aside, they had no clue where these demons were hanging out. The last bar they had walked in on hadn’t exactly gone well and it was just as likely here that anyone of these guys could be a demon. That was true any day of the week, but more so now than usual.
Satisfied that they weren’t going to get jumped right away, Dean flashed his badge to the bartender. “I’m Agent Walsh. This is Agent Ehart,” he said with a motion towards Sam. “You the owner?”
“I am...” the man responded suspiciously. “What’s the FBI doing here?”
“We need to ask you a couple questions,” Sam told the man. “We’re investigating a series of murders in the area.”
“Which ones?”
“The ones that were all regulars here,” Dean replied with far less patience than Sam had used. He got a sharp jolt in the side from Sam’s elbow for it. So far he hadn’t pulled his gun on the guy. Dean thought he ought to get a medal, not be criticized.
“I’ve got a lot of patrons here, pal. I don’t ask questions and I don’t like anyone else asking them either.”
“We’ll try to make this as painless as possible,” Dean told him in a tone that would be more to Sam’s liking. “If you could just...”
Dean forgot about the bartender when he noticed that a guy a few barstools down was watching him way too closely. It wasn’t the kind of watching you’d expect from a nosey bystander, but a staring like the guy had something to say.
He looked to the man and raised his brow questioningly at him. For a moment he expected the man’s eyes to flicker to black but instead they just narrowed as the older man looked him over.
“You look familiar, son,” the man finally said.
“Yeah, I got one of those faces.”
It was an easy answer for someone who really didn’t want to be recognized, but Dean knew it wasn’t true. He’d never honestly had someone mistake him for anyone else. He was one of a kind and though Sam wouldn’t say it exactly like that, he could tell by the wary expression that Sam sent him that his brother was thinking the same thing. Dean shrugged it off.
“So about these victims,” he continued to the bartender. “If you could take a look at these photos and tell us if you recognize any of these guys.”
Dean pulled a pile of folded printouts from his suit pocket and laid them on the bar in front of the man. Luckily for the bartender the guy did actually take a look at them. Not that he had a helpful answer to go with the look.
“I’ve seen them around. They drink, they pay and they leave. Haven’t seen them the last few days. Guess I know why now.”
“And you haven’t seen anyone around here acting...weird.”
“’Weird’?”
“Strangely out of character,” Sam clarified.
The bartender leaned slightly towards them and lowered his voice. “People come here to get drunk and between you and me, Agents, plenty of them are strung out on a lot more than alcohol. Not my stuff. It just comes with the neighborhood. If you’re looking for unusual behavior, you’ve come to the right place, but I run an honest establishment and beyond that I can’t help you.”
“Well, thanks,” Sam replied before Dean could get another comment off. “We’ll just take a look around and let you know if we have any further questions.”
“I’ll be on the edge of my seat,” the bartender deadpanned before returning to his customers.
Dean began to raise his hand to order something himself, but Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the bar. He shook his brother off with a glare. “Dude, what are you doing?”
“Dean, that guy recognizes you,” Sam replied quietly.
Out of the corner of his eye Dean casually glanced back to the guy at the bar and shook his head. Dean knew that the guy at least thought that he recognized him, but he wasn’t going to feed into Sam’s paranoia.
“No he didn’t. Even if we didn’t look like stupid ass cars salesmen in these getups, we’re the only Wonder Bread looking dudes in this place. We don’t exactly blend in. Besides, who wouldn’t want to look at me? Check me out, I’m totally awesome.”
As cocky as he hoped he came off sounding, in part he was just trying to convince himself of what he was saying and mostly he was just trying to convince Sam that he was okay. His fake smirk turned sincere when Sam just rolled his eyes. Finally. He wanted Sam to see him as just his normal, annoying brother and not as the dead man walking they both knew he was.
“Sure, Dean,” Sam groaned in reply. “You’re so totally awesome I can’t keep my eyes off you.”
That was true. Unfortunately. Sam was watching him like a damn hawk. He wasn’t sure if his brother was waiting for him to start crying or to slit his wrists or what the hell he thought was going to happen, but he didn’t need a babysitter. He needed his brother.
Without saying anything else Dean led Sam to a table in the back corner of the bar where they had a clear view of the whole place, but were out of sight of the guy at the bar.
“Two beers,” Dean told a waitress as she walked by.
Sam just stood next to the table gaping with his mouth open as Dean settled down into a chair. “Seriously,” he hissed at Sam. “What’s your problem, dude?”
“We’re not staying.”
“Uh...yeah we are. You dragged me to this craphole because this place is supposed to be crawling with demons. With the string of ritualistic deaths surrounding this place I’d say we’re right where we need to be. Thanks, sweetheart,” Dean told the waitress with a flashy grin as she set down their beers.
“No problem, sugar.”
He grabbed the bottle and took a well-deserved long swig before he looked back up at Sam. His brother needed to sit down and relax before he strained something in that overworked brain of his. Just because they were looking for demons freshly sprung from hell didn’t mean that it had to be all work and no play.
“Oh come on! Will you forget about that guy?” Dean asked as Sam looked back to the bar. “I guarantee he thinks you want to sink it in him with all those longing looks you’re sending him. Hell, I’m starting to wonder. Sit down already before I drink your beer.”
Sam still looked uneasy but finally took the seat next to him. They sat side by side with their backs to the wall so that they were facing out onto the bar. The bartender hadn’t been wrong.
Most of the people here looked suspicious enough to be considered possible demons. Really the guy at the bar and his apparent friend he was chatting with, were the only ones that didn’t look suspicious. Of course that alone made them look out of place. Just not out of place enough to be his concern.
Already bored of watching the crowd, Dean dug out his wallet. He flipped through the most recent stash of cards before pulling out the newest. Taking out his cell he dialed the number on the card’s activation sticker.
“Name is Roy Vanderford...yep, that’s me. Last four of the social is 8149. No I’m good. Really.”
Dean moved his hand in a talking motion to Sam as the Indian guy on the other end of the line droned on and on about the latest card security features. If the poor sucker had any idea....
“Yeah, great. Thanks.”
Dean peeled the sticker off and slid the card over to Sam. “Plenty of room for Pay-Per-View,” he assured his brother.
But Sam was in full douchebag mode and obviously hadn’t heard a word he’d said. Dean decided to test just how much his brother wasn’t paying attention to him.
“Or you and that guy could go rent a room by the hour,” Dean added.
No reaction. There wasn’t going to be any fun to be had sitting around this table. He took another gulp of beer before pushing his chair back and standing. Sam looked around for an emergency before finally looking to him.
“Where are you going?”
“To get some spending cash,” he said with a nod towards the active pool table on the other side of the bar.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re going to do something stupid to draw attention to yourself.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just going to go have a little fun, and dude, you’re not any fun right now. Chill out. This place is practically the murder capitol of the planet.”
Sam wrinkled his face and looked at him like he was nuts. “How is that comforting?”
“Cops all have their hands full. No one’s going to be bored enough to look for me and if the demons want some they can come and get it.”
“That’s great, Dean. If you got those two options so well planned out then maybe we can go for getting shot in the middle of a gang war instead.”
“Or maybe we could get lucky and draw out these demons for a demon war,” Dean shot back. “Either way, at least it would be something.”
Same crap, different day. Humans or demons, it was all ugly and it was all going to end bad. That’s why he full well intended to live it up while they waited for the crap to hit the fan. It was either that or sit around and cry while he waited to die. As much as a group hug and pity session would be Sam’s choice, it wasn’t his.
“At least I can pimp you out for spending cash if I lose.” Sam just glared, which made Dean chuckle. “Don’t worry, Sammy, I won’t lose.”
Dean didn’t make it all the way to the table before he felt eyes again on him. He glanced in the direction of the stare and found a girl that looked younger than him, but not by too much. She looked legal anyway. And totally hot.
The pretty little thing was watching him over her beer. He gave another look over the other people in the bar. It was beyond him how he’d missed seeing this girl when he’d first checked out the crowd.
Maybe some guy had been blocking his view of her. She really didn’t look like the type to come to a place like this alone. Yet when his eyes met hers she brushed her long, black, wavy hair over her shoulder clearing up the view of her low cut top.
Diverging from his path to the pool tables, he made a beeline for the poor lonely girl that might just be in need of some rescuing. It’s what he did after all - help people. He smirked to himself before turning on his full, charm oozing smile.
He gauged her reaction carefully as he moved in to make sure that she wasn’t just waiting for her boyfriend to get back to the table. But she spoke first so he couldn’t be held liable for anything that followed. He was all hers as long as she didn’t ask for a credit card number.
“Hey,” she said with a smile of her own. “So federal agent, huh? Boy, did you walk into the wrong bar. This place is a total loss.”
“I don’t know...it’s got you,” he replied easily. “You know, I’m off duty…”
“Maria.”
“Hey, Maria, I’m Dean. Maybe after I play a quick game here you could tell me all about your concerns regarding the city.”
“I’ll be here,” she assured him.
He would have forgotten about the pool and gotten to her first, but there was a lot of money flying around that table and he was seeing a big opportunity to clean up there that he couldn’t resist.
Striding over to the group of guys that each likely had at least fifty pounds on him didn’t even faze him. Wearing a stupid grin he swaggered up to the table like he might be drunk even though he was far from it.
“Man, I always wanted to try this game,” he told the group that had just finished a round.
They all eyed him suspiciously until he dug a wad of cash out of his pocket and tossed it on the table. The suspicious looks turned to barely concealed mischievous smirks. Really, who didn’t want to screw a fed?
“So I’m trying to hit the white ball into the hole right?”
~~~
By the time Dean was done playing Sam had his elbows propped up on the table to hold his head. He’d said it before and he’d say it again. There was just no way that Dean was actually related to him. They were supposed to be working not working to turn the city against them and the man at the bar and his companion were still watching Dean.
Even though he should, he couldn’t bring himself to tell Dean they had to get out of here because his brother did actually look like he was having fun. If swindling a bunch of scumbags out of some cash was going to make Dean happy even just for the next two minutes then it was worth cleaning up the mess when he was done. He was just afraid that part of the ‘fun’ Dean was looking for involved a fight.
Sam kept a careful eye both on the men at the bar who kept whispering to each other and on the group that Dean was playing. As soon as his brother finished the round he was on Sam imagined that they were going to have to get out of here fast.
Finally Dean left the pool table with a ridiculously large victory grin on his face and sent a thumbs up to him. Sam just raised his brows and forced a smile in reply. He slipped his suit jacket back on as he thought Dean was heading back his way but his brother instead headed for the girl he had talked to on the way over to the pool table.
Sam shook his head as he watched his brother lean over the table towards her. It was funny because Dean undoubtedly thought he was playing the girl, but Sam was pretty sure it was the other way around.
He couldn’t hear a thing that they were saying to each other but from the motioning the girl was doing it was obvious that she was trying to get Dean to sit down and drink the extra beer she had at the table with her. For whatever reason, Dean turned her down though he did hang around long enough to collect her phone number before walking quickly back towards Sam.
“Alright, I’m good.” His brother shot a glance over his back towards the group at the pool table then nodded to him. “We should probably hit the road. Now.”
Not the least bit surprised, Sam rose instantly from his chair. The group of guys Dean had just suckered looked ready for blood. They made a quick exit out the front door. While it was Sam’s intention to keep a closer eye on his brother, before he realized it Dean was tearing across the parking lot.
“Hey!” Dean shouted at the top of his lungs. “Get away from my car!”
“Dean!”
There were three men gathered around the back of the Impala. Two of the scruffy men were probably about matched with Dean in height but with beefier frames. The third, taller one was using a crowbar to try and pry open the trunk.
Something was seriously not right about the fact that the trunk had been the first target on the car, but Sam didn’t have time to sort that out now. He had to stop his suicidal moron of a brother from getting himself killed first.
Dean had already pulled off his suit jacket and thrown it to the ground while he was sprinting. Once he reached the group Dean launched himself at the one with the crowbar, striking the man in the jaw with his fist.
By the time Sam closed in Dean was already losing the fight, which wasn’t right. Even though the guy Dean was wrestling with was noticeably bigger than him, it wasn’t like his brother was the average fighter.
The man Dean had tackled now had him pinned against the concrete and was pressing the crowbar down against his throat. His brother eyes were wide as he struggled for air. Dean threw another punch that connected hard, but didn’t shake the man. In less than a second Sam had skidded into the fight. It was way too late to try to talk anyone down.
He didn’t hesitate to send a solid kick up into the gut of the man that was crushing his brother’s windpipe. The man was knocked off Dean, but before Sam could move in to finish the job the other two shorter guys came up from behind and grabbed him.
They wrenched his arms painfully hard behind his back. He twisted against their grip, using all his strength to try to throw them off, but they were a hell of a lot stronger than they looked. Despite his struggles he could do nothing but watch as Dean staggered to his feet still gasping for air.
By the time Dean was upright he had the crowbar gripped in his hand, but he still looked unfocused. Sam knew full well that Dean hadn’t thought any of this through before he’d thrown himself into it. What really had him worried was that the men who held him seemed less intent on fighting with him than on just keeping him out of the fight with Dean.
“Behind you, Dean!” Sam warned as a fourth figure stepped from the shadows.
Without question Dean turned towards the direction Sam had indicated, but the other person, this one a young woman, moved in faster than Dean could spin. From behind, her arms latched out and grabbed Dean. The strength with which she pulled his brother back confirmed his fear that these weren’t humans they were fighting.
As Sam watched the arms constricted around his brother’s chest, Dean drew his elbow back and jammed it into the woman’s ribs. He kicked back at her shin and managed to knock loose of her grip. The second he was free Dean pulled back the crowbar, but he stopped mid swing when he saw who was behind him.
It was only half a moment’s hesitation, but it was a moment too long. Sam realized that Dean hadn’t known it was a girl behind him. He should have warned Dean ahead of time, but it was too late now.
“What the...”
Dean didn’t even have time to finish his exclamation before the girl lifted her hand and Dean was propelled back against a van. There was a nauseating thud as Dean’s body impacted the sheet metal before sliding to the ground.
Sam kicked his leg back, sweeping the foot of the man on his right out from underneath him. With the smaller man unbalanced Sam’s arm was free to throw a nose shattering follow-up punch that momentarily took the man down. Turning to the other man he kicked out and caught the heavier man in the gut, knocking him back.
He made it half way to Dean before he was also thrust off his feet. The wind was knocked out of him and he found himself pinned back over the trunk of the Impala. He only had enough freedom of movement to turn his head so that he could see his brother. Helplessly he watched as Dean slowly rolled onto his side, obviously disoriented.
His brother was still struggling to stand even with the support of the van behind him by the time the girl and two men that Sam had thrown off himself were looming over Dean. Sam jerked uselessly against the invisible force that held him as the original guy that Dean had stolen the crowbar from shot him a malicious grin. Without any other acknowledgement the man walked over to join the other three.
The group had Dean surrounded on the front and sides and backed against the van. From where he was pinned Sam couldn’t begin to get a clear read on how injured Dean was or wasn’t. No matter how badly he was hurt Dean would be trying to play it down.
Sam also couldn’t tell what was going on because the group of four demons was just standing around his brother. While he couldn’t tell what they were waiting for he was afraid from the look he’d seen on the face of the one that had passed him that they were here for the same reason Dean was. They were hoping to have some fun. Sam’s stomach twisted.
This was one of the most blatant attacks he had ever seen these things pull. There wasn’t anything isolated about where they were. It was dark and no one savory was on the streets now, but there were streetlights and savory or not, there was a decent amount of traffic on the street. If the demons were pulling this with so many potential witnesses it had to be a whole new level of bad. Or maybe they just knew like Sam that no one here was going to come to their rescue.
He caught Dean’s eyes as his brother looked past the demons toward him. There was a concealed panic in Dean’s tensed features that the demons probably wouldn’t pick up on but that screamed to Sam loud and clear. There was no question that Dean had come to the same realization of just how screwed they were.
What really got Sam was that he could see what Dean was doing by the directions his eyes were darting. Dean wasn’t looking for a way to get himself out; Dean was trying to figure out how to get him out. He wanted to yell at Dean to focus on saving himself first, but it wouldn’t do any good.
The panic swelled in him as he realized that no matter what the demons planned to do, he couldn’t do a damn thing to stop them. One of them leaned in towards his brother and whispered something in Dean’s ear. Sam didn’t know what was said but he saw how quickly Dean’s eyes flashed from anxious to pure fury. His own panic too turned to rage as he heard the demons snickering at the scarcely hidden hurt in his brother’s eyes.
Dean surged forward swinging the crowbar full force at the head of the taller demon, but it was grabbed mid swing and twisted from his grip. As soon as it had the crowbar in hand the demon drove its knee up into Dean’s abdomen.
As Sam watched Dean double over he wanted nothing more than the Colt in working order, but instead he could only watch powerlessly as the demon brought the crowbar down with a crack across Dean’s shoulders sending his brother sinking to his knees.
“No!” Sam shouted out uselessly.
One of the shorter ones kicked a foot out, but this time Dean was the one to make the interception. His brother latched onto the booted foot as it contacted his side, using it to yank the man to the ground.
Dean had always been able to figure out how to make the best of a bad situation, but even if these were only humans there were too many of them for Dean to take alone. Together they could do it no problem, but the demons obviously knew that.
What they probably didn’t know was that just because Dean couldn’t win, didn’t mean that his brother wouldn’t fight like hell. In one sweeping movement, Dean reached around his back, pulled out his gun and fired two shots. The bullets hit both of the men that were still standing, but before another shot could be cocked to leave the chamber the girl swept her hand and sent the gun clattering out of Dean’s reach under a nearby car.
Sam grimaced as she shoved Dean back into the van. His brother barely had his eyes open again before she pulled back her fist and slugged him, snapping his head to the side. Trying to shake it off, Dean didn’t seem to wait to gain his bearings before cocking back his own fist.
The woman grabbed it easily in what must have been a crushing grip. Sam used every bit of strength he had to try to slip free of his paralysis as he heard the yelp of pain that Dean had been unable to bite back.
Before Dean could make another move the woman used her free hand to clamp onto his forehead. She held her hand there for a strangely long moment as she just stared into Dean’s eyes.
They both looked far too still. Then in a burst of movement the demon thrust Dean’s head back against the side of the van with a resonating thud. The sound made Sam want to be sick. Dean’s arm fell limp to his side as his entire body crumpled the rest of the way to the ground.
“Dean!”
While Sam willed his brother to get up this time Dean lay still on the pavement where the girl had let him fall. Casually the thing kneeled down over his brother. She reached into the coat pocket of one of the fallen men and removed a small case. It wasn’t until she shifted positions that Sam could see that she had pulled a syringe from the case.
“Get away from him,” Sam warned before his tone fell into desperation. “He’s not the one you want!”
But the girl didn’t even seem to notice that he was there anymore. She rolled Dean onto his back and pushed his head to the side, exposing his neck. Absently she ran her fingers down his jugular before inserting the needle and pumping the contents of the syringe into his brother. Sam was too stunned to say anything else as he struggled to keep his breath steady. As soon as she came near him she was going to regret ever having touched his brother.
Instead of moving towards him, she just stood and turned to look at him. She smiled sweetly though the hateful glint in her eyes marred any beauty that might have otherwise been on her face. Still, it was then that he really saw her features in full and realized why Dean had stopped fighting so suddenly when he’d seen her. It wasn’t just because she was a girl. It was the girl Dean had been flirting with in the bar.
“This would have been so much easier on you two if Romeo had just stayed for that drink he’d promised,” she told Sam.
His brow furrowed in confusion, but his attention was drawn away from her statement as all four of the demons suddenly exploded from the bodies they had been riding. The girl collapsed to the ground and the pressure holding Sam down was instantly released.
He immediately pushed himself up off the trunk and ran to close the distance between him and his unconscious brother. At least he prayed like hell that he was just unconscious. He jumped over the bodies surrounding Dean and dropped to his knees next to him.
Gently he lifted Dean’s head into his hands, breathing a small sigh of relief when he couldn’t find any notable quantities of blood there. At least it seemed that Dean’s skull hadn’t actually been fractured, not that it meant that plenty else wasn’t wrong.
“Dean? Come on, man. Wake up.”
His brother was alive, but he was out cold. Sam forced his shaky hand to remain steady as he pulled out the syringe that the demon hadn’t bothered to remove from Dean’s neck. He grabbed the case the girl had dropped and put the syringe back into it before slipping it into his jacket pocket. Right now he didn’t have time to figure out what they had put in Dean.
Everyone in the area might have found it convenient to pretend that they hadn’t noticed his brother nearly getting killed by these things, but they had unquestionably heard the gunfire. And now the girl next to him was starting to scream at the top of her lungs as she and the other man that Dean had just knocked out stumbled to their feet awaking next to two dead bodies lying in a growing pool of blood.
He didn’t have time to deal with them either. Lacking any other options, Sam reached down and dug the keys to the Impala from Dean’s pant pocket. He hauled his brother up enough so that he could crouch down and get Dean’s body slung over his shoulder. With a grunt he rose to his feet hoping that he wasn’t making any of Dean’s injuries worse.
“No more cheeseburgers for breakfast,” Sam grumbled as he hauled his brother’s bulk back over to the Impala.
Leaning against the car he fumbled to get the key into the lock before having to shove Dean’s body unceremoniously onto the back seat. Two men had just come running from the bar and while this was no time for ‘I told you so’ one of them was the man who’d had his eyes glued on Dean while they had been inside.
“Police!” the man yelled towards them as he and his partner reached for their weapons. “On the ground now!”
Sam didn’t wait for the apparent undercover cops to get their guns drawn. Instead he reached through to unlock the driver’s side door. He slammed the back door shut and jumped into the driver’s seat. Already he heard the sound of sirens closing in. The officers inside the bar must have called for reinforcements during the fight. Help was coming all right, but it wasn’t for them.
As soon as the Impala’s engine roared to life Sam pushed the gas pedal practically to the floor. Turning the wheel as fast as he could, he just managed to avoid hitting anyone or anything as the old Chevy squealed from the parking lot before the officers got a shot off.
Continue to Chapter 2
Summary: An attack by a gang of demons freshly freed from hell, leaves Dean unable to lie, at the top of FBI’s most wanted list and soon forced into an experimental psyche program. Meanwhile Sam and Bobby are left to unravel the full extent of the demons’ plans.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, violence, suggestive scenarios and implied M/M non-con.
Spoilers: Up to Season 3, 'Dream a Little Dream of Me'
Word Count: 6,698 for this part
Author's Note: This story is set early Season 3 post ‘The Magnificent Seven’ and assumes that Sam and Dean had their anti-demon possession tattoos by that point. Master post can be found here.
~~~
Camden, New Jersey
Dean stepped out of the car and looked guardedly around the dimly lit parking lot. As far as he was concerned they had driven around this city enough to see that they should just keep right on driving.
Instead he had stupidly let Sam talk him into parking his pride and joy here - in the middle of the parking lot from hell. This place was a freakin’ nightmare. The lot was boxed in on both sides by walls that had so much graffiti covering them there was no telling what color they had originally been painted.
Of course it wasn’t the walls he was worried about. There were several shady groups of guys just standing around in the shadows doing nothing good. One of the closer groups met his suspicious glare and looked to be equally sizing him and Sam up. Discreetly he slipped his pistol beneath his jacket. He should never have let Sam talk him into coming here. Cities sucked.
Here they didn’t just have demons to worry about, but people. As much as he hated demons, humans were harder to deal with. It wasn’t like he couldn’t physically take down an average joe all the faster than he could one possessed by a demon. It was just that you didn’t get to go around shooting people for being morons.
Like the guys that were eyeing his car right now. If it wasn’t so likely that they were just humans he would have taken them down already. They might still get lucky.
While he denied Sam’s accusations to the fullest, truth be told his trigger finger was a little itchier than usual lately. Some jerks deserved it and with the hell fire nipping his heels it wasn’t like he was sweating the possibility of damnation. He might as well take some worthy scumbags down with him.
“Dean?”
Forgetting about the human creeps he looked over the car to his brother who was watching him with concerned eyes. Sam practically had worry permanently tattooed on his face these days. It wasn’t that Dean blamed him. Roles reversed...well, he’d never let that happen. He just wanted Sam to stop worrying and get that this was what it was. And it wasn’t all bad.
Since he’d been four years old, Dean had never been sure on any given night whether he would live to see the next sunrise. That was life. But now it was easier. He was practically guaranteed a solid year and after that he was done.
No more fighting. No more anything. Sure, hell didn’t sound like a walk in the park, but how much worse could it really be than this world? Honestly a big part of him latched onto the idea that hell wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
The only thing stopping him from enjoying this last year was the one thing that could make it a blast. Sammy. His brother was stuck on the notion that by selling out his soul he’d done the same thing to Sam as Dad had done to him. But it just wasn’t like that. If Sam was too dense to get it then there was no point in explaining any of the rest to him.
Dean looked around once more, with his hand still set protectively on the roof of his car. “I say we let the demons have this place.”
“Dean...”
“I’m just saying....” But now Sam was giving him that ‘don’t be a baby’ look that somehow simultaneously managed to come off as both totally placating and comforting. “Fine. But if someone tags my car...dude, if they just keep looking at it funny - I’m shooting first and asking questions never.”
“I think they’re looking at you, not the car,” Sam replied with a barely concealed smirk.
“I take it back. I’m going to shoot you first.”
“Relax, Dean. You’re dressed like a federal agent. They’re not going to screw with your car.”
It showed how little Sam knew. If Dean was those guys he’d loved to screw with a fed’s car. Hell, even as himself he’d love to screw with a fed’s car. Especially one particular fed. A little thank you for the major pain in the ass they didn’t need while they were trying to save this sorry world. Not that it was right taking a man’s frustration out on an innocent car.
“Actually I’m dressed like a freakin’ loser,” he grumbled as he tugged at the too tight collar of the dress shirt. The collar was actually loose but it felt suffocating all the same.
“You look fine,” Sam assured him with a freaky ease.
Dean shot him a look and snorted. “Gee, that means the world to me, Sammy. You know I try to look my best for you.”
“Yeah...okay. But seriously, Dean, it’s the police, not the criminals we need to be looking out for,” Sam replied like that was some sort of sick comfort.
“You’re telling me.” He still wasn’t buying it. Not when it came to his car anyway. “The police aren’t going to smash my baby’s windows in.”
“I can go work this case myself if you two need some time alone out here...”
“Shut up.”
Finally Dean gave in and pushed the car door shut. Before following Sam he looked back to the guys that were watching him from the street corner. He sent them a lethal warning look and flashed them a glint from his pistol before he was suddenly yanked back by the scruff of his suit jacket.
“You’re such an idiot!” Sam growled.
Dean twisted out of his brother’s grip and hit at him when he tried to grab his arm. Here he was trying to prove that he wasn’t one to screw with and he had his little brother yanking him around like he was his mother.
“Dude, I’m marking my territory here.”
“Well, if you’re done pissing on the parking lot can we at least get inside the bar before you start a shootout?”
“Whatever. This is still all kinds of stupid.”
“Then it should be perfect for you.”
But girly Sam must have thought that had come out too harsh because his brother stopped walking and looked back at him like he was sorry. Sorry for what? They were brothers. It was their job to insult each other mercilessly. It was part of the fun and Dean wanted to have fun.
Instead he had Sam being all weirdly careful with him, trying to draw out a therapy session every other day, trying so damn hard to make him happy and to fix his whole little damnation problem. What Sam couldn’t work through his thick skull was that Dean didn’t want any of that. All he wanted was Sam alive and well. That was it.
It was his job to take care of his little brother as long as he was still alive and kicking. He didn’t want Sam to feel like he had to take care of him too. That wasn’t how it worked.
All Sam had to do was be Sam. Not the worried brother that talked to him like he was afraid he was going to break or who was mourning him like he was already burning down under. Dean just wanted to have a little fun and kick some serious demon ass before he died. And he wanted to do it with his brother fully present and playing along.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he grumbled as he waved Sam off. “Sign me up for bucket loads of crazy stupid. Really. But I’m just thinking if we let loose two hundred odd demons there have to be a few hanging out somewhere that isn’t going to get my car trashed.”
That got a weary sigh out of Sam, which he liked. It meant Sam was getting annoyed and annoyed Sam meant less unnecessarily worried Sam. He knew his brother wanted to tell him that he was going to hell, forget the damn car, but his brother had enough sense to keep that commentary to himself.
“Look, Dean, you’re the one that wanted to focus on hunting the demons and Bobby says that the signs point to this place being a serious hotbed. So let’s just focus, okay?”
“Sure. I’m totally focused. Undivided attention,” he assured Sam.
He surrendered for the moment because he really wanted a drink, a decent game of something involving bets and a woman that wasn’t charging for some quality time. It was a lot to ask of this dump, but he was holding out hope that he’d be pleasantly surprised.
As soon as they walked through the door all eyes were on them. Why wouldn’t they be? They were the only freaks in this place wearing cheap knock off designer suits. He’d tried to talk Sam out of the whole federal agent crap for this one, mostly because he didn’t want to spend any more of his precious remaining days in one of these stupid monkey suits.
But Sam had been insistent that no one around here was going to talk willingly even though Dean had argued the exact opposite - no one here was going to talk to a fed. In the end Sam had won. It was mostly because Sam had pouted and Dean could at best hold out against those big, sad puppy dog eyes for a whopping fifteen seconds before caving.
While they moved towards the bar Dean’s eyes were busy scanning the joint. Annoying humans aside, they had no clue where these demons were hanging out. The last bar they had walked in on hadn’t exactly gone well and it was just as likely here that anyone of these guys could be a demon. That was true any day of the week, but more so now than usual.
Satisfied that they weren’t going to get jumped right away, Dean flashed his badge to the bartender. “I’m Agent Walsh. This is Agent Ehart,” he said with a motion towards Sam. “You the owner?”
“I am...” the man responded suspiciously. “What’s the FBI doing here?”
“We need to ask you a couple questions,” Sam told the man. “We’re investigating a series of murders in the area.”
“Which ones?”
“The ones that were all regulars here,” Dean replied with far less patience than Sam had used. He got a sharp jolt in the side from Sam’s elbow for it. So far he hadn’t pulled his gun on the guy. Dean thought he ought to get a medal, not be criticized.
“I’ve got a lot of patrons here, pal. I don’t ask questions and I don’t like anyone else asking them either.”
“We’ll try to make this as painless as possible,” Dean told him in a tone that would be more to Sam’s liking. “If you could just...”
Dean forgot about the bartender when he noticed that a guy a few barstools down was watching him way too closely. It wasn’t the kind of watching you’d expect from a nosey bystander, but a staring like the guy had something to say.
He looked to the man and raised his brow questioningly at him. For a moment he expected the man’s eyes to flicker to black but instead they just narrowed as the older man looked him over.
“You look familiar, son,” the man finally said.
“Yeah, I got one of those faces.”
It was an easy answer for someone who really didn’t want to be recognized, but Dean knew it wasn’t true. He’d never honestly had someone mistake him for anyone else. He was one of a kind and though Sam wouldn’t say it exactly like that, he could tell by the wary expression that Sam sent him that his brother was thinking the same thing. Dean shrugged it off.
“So about these victims,” he continued to the bartender. “If you could take a look at these photos and tell us if you recognize any of these guys.”
Dean pulled a pile of folded printouts from his suit pocket and laid them on the bar in front of the man. Luckily for the bartender the guy did actually take a look at them. Not that he had a helpful answer to go with the look.
“I’ve seen them around. They drink, they pay and they leave. Haven’t seen them the last few days. Guess I know why now.”
“And you haven’t seen anyone around here acting...weird.”
“’Weird’?”
“Strangely out of character,” Sam clarified.
The bartender leaned slightly towards them and lowered his voice. “People come here to get drunk and between you and me, Agents, plenty of them are strung out on a lot more than alcohol. Not my stuff. It just comes with the neighborhood. If you’re looking for unusual behavior, you’ve come to the right place, but I run an honest establishment and beyond that I can’t help you.”
“Well, thanks,” Sam replied before Dean could get another comment off. “We’ll just take a look around and let you know if we have any further questions.”
“I’ll be on the edge of my seat,” the bartender deadpanned before returning to his customers.
Dean began to raise his hand to order something himself, but Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the bar. He shook his brother off with a glare. “Dude, what are you doing?”
“Dean, that guy recognizes you,” Sam replied quietly.
Out of the corner of his eye Dean casually glanced back to the guy at the bar and shook his head. Dean knew that the guy at least thought that he recognized him, but he wasn’t going to feed into Sam’s paranoia.
“No he didn’t. Even if we didn’t look like stupid ass cars salesmen in these getups, we’re the only Wonder Bread looking dudes in this place. We don’t exactly blend in. Besides, who wouldn’t want to look at me? Check me out, I’m totally awesome.”
As cocky as he hoped he came off sounding, in part he was just trying to convince himself of what he was saying and mostly he was just trying to convince Sam that he was okay. His fake smirk turned sincere when Sam just rolled his eyes. Finally. He wanted Sam to see him as just his normal, annoying brother and not as the dead man walking they both knew he was.
“Sure, Dean,” Sam groaned in reply. “You’re so totally awesome I can’t keep my eyes off you.”
That was true. Unfortunately. Sam was watching him like a damn hawk. He wasn’t sure if his brother was waiting for him to start crying or to slit his wrists or what the hell he thought was going to happen, but he didn’t need a babysitter. He needed his brother.
Without saying anything else Dean led Sam to a table in the back corner of the bar where they had a clear view of the whole place, but were out of sight of the guy at the bar.
“Two beers,” Dean told a waitress as she walked by.
Sam just stood next to the table gaping with his mouth open as Dean settled down into a chair. “Seriously,” he hissed at Sam. “What’s your problem, dude?”
“We’re not staying.”
“Uh...yeah we are. You dragged me to this craphole because this place is supposed to be crawling with demons. With the string of ritualistic deaths surrounding this place I’d say we’re right where we need to be. Thanks, sweetheart,” Dean told the waitress with a flashy grin as she set down their beers.
“No problem, sugar.”
He grabbed the bottle and took a well-deserved long swig before he looked back up at Sam. His brother needed to sit down and relax before he strained something in that overworked brain of his. Just because they were looking for demons freshly sprung from hell didn’t mean that it had to be all work and no play.
“Oh come on! Will you forget about that guy?” Dean asked as Sam looked back to the bar. “I guarantee he thinks you want to sink it in him with all those longing looks you’re sending him. Hell, I’m starting to wonder. Sit down already before I drink your beer.”
Sam still looked uneasy but finally took the seat next to him. They sat side by side with their backs to the wall so that they were facing out onto the bar. The bartender hadn’t been wrong.
Most of the people here looked suspicious enough to be considered possible demons. Really the guy at the bar and his apparent friend he was chatting with, were the only ones that didn’t look suspicious. Of course that alone made them look out of place. Just not out of place enough to be his concern.
Already bored of watching the crowd, Dean dug out his wallet. He flipped through the most recent stash of cards before pulling out the newest. Taking out his cell he dialed the number on the card’s activation sticker.
“Name is Roy Vanderford...yep, that’s me. Last four of the social is 8149. No I’m good. Really.”
Dean moved his hand in a talking motion to Sam as the Indian guy on the other end of the line droned on and on about the latest card security features. If the poor sucker had any idea....
“Yeah, great. Thanks.”
Dean peeled the sticker off and slid the card over to Sam. “Plenty of room for Pay-Per-View,” he assured his brother.
But Sam was in full douchebag mode and obviously hadn’t heard a word he’d said. Dean decided to test just how much his brother wasn’t paying attention to him.
“Or you and that guy could go rent a room by the hour,” Dean added.
No reaction. There wasn’t going to be any fun to be had sitting around this table. He took another gulp of beer before pushing his chair back and standing. Sam looked around for an emergency before finally looking to him.
“Where are you going?”
“To get some spending cash,” he said with a nod towards the active pool table on the other side of the bar.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re going to do something stupid to draw attention to yourself.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just going to go have a little fun, and dude, you’re not any fun right now. Chill out. This place is practically the murder capitol of the planet.”
Sam wrinkled his face and looked at him like he was nuts. “How is that comforting?”
“Cops all have their hands full. No one’s going to be bored enough to look for me and if the demons want some they can come and get it.”
“That’s great, Dean. If you got those two options so well planned out then maybe we can go for getting shot in the middle of a gang war instead.”
“Or maybe we could get lucky and draw out these demons for a demon war,” Dean shot back. “Either way, at least it would be something.”
Same crap, different day. Humans or demons, it was all ugly and it was all going to end bad. That’s why he full well intended to live it up while they waited for the crap to hit the fan. It was either that or sit around and cry while he waited to die. As much as a group hug and pity session would be Sam’s choice, it wasn’t his.
“At least I can pimp you out for spending cash if I lose.” Sam just glared, which made Dean chuckle. “Don’t worry, Sammy, I won’t lose.”
Dean didn’t make it all the way to the table before he felt eyes again on him. He glanced in the direction of the stare and found a girl that looked younger than him, but not by too much. She looked legal anyway. And totally hot.
The pretty little thing was watching him over her beer. He gave another look over the other people in the bar. It was beyond him how he’d missed seeing this girl when he’d first checked out the crowd.
Maybe some guy had been blocking his view of her. She really didn’t look like the type to come to a place like this alone. Yet when his eyes met hers she brushed her long, black, wavy hair over her shoulder clearing up the view of her low cut top.
Diverging from his path to the pool tables, he made a beeline for the poor lonely girl that might just be in need of some rescuing. It’s what he did after all - help people. He smirked to himself before turning on his full, charm oozing smile.
He gauged her reaction carefully as he moved in to make sure that she wasn’t just waiting for her boyfriend to get back to the table. But she spoke first so he couldn’t be held liable for anything that followed. He was all hers as long as she didn’t ask for a credit card number.
“Hey,” she said with a smile of her own. “So federal agent, huh? Boy, did you walk into the wrong bar. This place is a total loss.”
“I don’t know...it’s got you,” he replied easily. “You know, I’m off duty…”
“Maria.”
“Hey, Maria, I’m Dean. Maybe after I play a quick game here you could tell me all about your concerns regarding the city.”
“I’ll be here,” she assured him.
He would have forgotten about the pool and gotten to her first, but there was a lot of money flying around that table and he was seeing a big opportunity to clean up there that he couldn’t resist.
Striding over to the group of guys that each likely had at least fifty pounds on him didn’t even faze him. Wearing a stupid grin he swaggered up to the table like he might be drunk even though he was far from it.
“Man, I always wanted to try this game,” he told the group that had just finished a round.
They all eyed him suspiciously until he dug a wad of cash out of his pocket and tossed it on the table. The suspicious looks turned to barely concealed mischievous smirks. Really, who didn’t want to screw a fed?
“So I’m trying to hit the white ball into the hole right?”
~~~
By the time Dean was done playing Sam had his elbows propped up on the table to hold his head. He’d said it before and he’d say it again. There was just no way that Dean was actually related to him. They were supposed to be working not working to turn the city against them and the man at the bar and his companion were still watching Dean.
Even though he should, he couldn’t bring himself to tell Dean they had to get out of here because his brother did actually look like he was having fun. If swindling a bunch of scumbags out of some cash was going to make Dean happy even just for the next two minutes then it was worth cleaning up the mess when he was done. He was just afraid that part of the ‘fun’ Dean was looking for involved a fight.
Sam kept a careful eye both on the men at the bar who kept whispering to each other and on the group that Dean was playing. As soon as his brother finished the round he was on Sam imagined that they were going to have to get out of here fast.
Finally Dean left the pool table with a ridiculously large victory grin on his face and sent a thumbs up to him. Sam just raised his brows and forced a smile in reply. He slipped his suit jacket back on as he thought Dean was heading back his way but his brother instead headed for the girl he had talked to on the way over to the pool table.
Sam shook his head as he watched his brother lean over the table towards her. It was funny because Dean undoubtedly thought he was playing the girl, but Sam was pretty sure it was the other way around.
He couldn’t hear a thing that they were saying to each other but from the motioning the girl was doing it was obvious that she was trying to get Dean to sit down and drink the extra beer she had at the table with her. For whatever reason, Dean turned her down though he did hang around long enough to collect her phone number before walking quickly back towards Sam.
“Alright, I’m good.” His brother shot a glance over his back towards the group at the pool table then nodded to him. “We should probably hit the road. Now.”
Not the least bit surprised, Sam rose instantly from his chair. The group of guys Dean had just suckered looked ready for blood. They made a quick exit out the front door. While it was Sam’s intention to keep a closer eye on his brother, before he realized it Dean was tearing across the parking lot.
“Hey!” Dean shouted at the top of his lungs. “Get away from my car!”
“Dean!”
There were three men gathered around the back of the Impala. Two of the scruffy men were probably about matched with Dean in height but with beefier frames. The third, taller one was using a crowbar to try and pry open the trunk.
Something was seriously not right about the fact that the trunk had been the first target on the car, but Sam didn’t have time to sort that out now. He had to stop his suicidal moron of a brother from getting himself killed first.
Dean had already pulled off his suit jacket and thrown it to the ground while he was sprinting. Once he reached the group Dean launched himself at the one with the crowbar, striking the man in the jaw with his fist.
By the time Sam closed in Dean was already losing the fight, which wasn’t right. Even though the guy Dean was wrestling with was noticeably bigger than him, it wasn’t like his brother was the average fighter.
The man Dean had tackled now had him pinned against the concrete and was pressing the crowbar down against his throat. His brother eyes were wide as he struggled for air. Dean threw another punch that connected hard, but didn’t shake the man. In less than a second Sam had skidded into the fight. It was way too late to try to talk anyone down.
He didn’t hesitate to send a solid kick up into the gut of the man that was crushing his brother’s windpipe. The man was knocked off Dean, but before Sam could move in to finish the job the other two shorter guys came up from behind and grabbed him.
They wrenched his arms painfully hard behind his back. He twisted against their grip, using all his strength to try to throw them off, but they were a hell of a lot stronger than they looked. Despite his struggles he could do nothing but watch as Dean staggered to his feet still gasping for air.
By the time Dean was upright he had the crowbar gripped in his hand, but he still looked unfocused. Sam knew full well that Dean hadn’t thought any of this through before he’d thrown himself into it. What really had him worried was that the men who held him seemed less intent on fighting with him than on just keeping him out of the fight with Dean.
“Behind you, Dean!” Sam warned as a fourth figure stepped from the shadows.
Without question Dean turned towards the direction Sam had indicated, but the other person, this one a young woman, moved in faster than Dean could spin. From behind, her arms latched out and grabbed Dean. The strength with which she pulled his brother back confirmed his fear that these weren’t humans they were fighting.
As Sam watched the arms constricted around his brother’s chest, Dean drew his elbow back and jammed it into the woman’s ribs. He kicked back at her shin and managed to knock loose of her grip. The second he was free Dean pulled back the crowbar, but he stopped mid swing when he saw who was behind him.
It was only half a moment’s hesitation, but it was a moment too long. Sam realized that Dean hadn’t known it was a girl behind him. He should have warned Dean ahead of time, but it was too late now.
“What the...”
Dean didn’t even have time to finish his exclamation before the girl lifted her hand and Dean was propelled back against a van. There was a nauseating thud as Dean’s body impacted the sheet metal before sliding to the ground.
Sam kicked his leg back, sweeping the foot of the man on his right out from underneath him. With the smaller man unbalanced Sam’s arm was free to throw a nose shattering follow-up punch that momentarily took the man down. Turning to the other man he kicked out and caught the heavier man in the gut, knocking him back.
He made it half way to Dean before he was also thrust off his feet. The wind was knocked out of him and he found himself pinned back over the trunk of the Impala. He only had enough freedom of movement to turn his head so that he could see his brother. Helplessly he watched as Dean slowly rolled onto his side, obviously disoriented.
His brother was still struggling to stand even with the support of the van behind him by the time the girl and two men that Sam had thrown off himself were looming over Dean. Sam jerked uselessly against the invisible force that held him as the original guy that Dean had stolen the crowbar from shot him a malicious grin. Without any other acknowledgement the man walked over to join the other three.
The group had Dean surrounded on the front and sides and backed against the van. From where he was pinned Sam couldn’t begin to get a clear read on how injured Dean was or wasn’t. No matter how badly he was hurt Dean would be trying to play it down.
Sam also couldn’t tell what was going on because the group of four demons was just standing around his brother. While he couldn’t tell what they were waiting for he was afraid from the look he’d seen on the face of the one that had passed him that they were here for the same reason Dean was. They were hoping to have some fun. Sam’s stomach twisted.
This was one of the most blatant attacks he had ever seen these things pull. There wasn’t anything isolated about where they were. It was dark and no one savory was on the streets now, but there were streetlights and savory or not, there was a decent amount of traffic on the street. If the demons were pulling this with so many potential witnesses it had to be a whole new level of bad. Or maybe they just knew like Sam that no one here was going to come to their rescue.
He caught Dean’s eyes as his brother looked past the demons toward him. There was a concealed panic in Dean’s tensed features that the demons probably wouldn’t pick up on but that screamed to Sam loud and clear. There was no question that Dean had come to the same realization of just how screwed they were.
What really got Sam was that he could see what Dean was doing by the directions his eyes were darting. Dean wasn’t looking for a way to get himself out; Dean was trying to figure out how to get him out. He wanted to yell at Dean to focus on saving himself first, but it wouldn’t do any good.
The panic swelled in him as he realized that no matter what the demons planned to do, he couldn’t do a damn thing to stop them. One of them leaned in towards his brother and whispered something in Dean’s ear. Sam didn’t know what was said but he saw how quickly Dean’s eyes flashed from anxious to pure fury. His own panic too turned to rage as he heard the demons snickering at the scarcely hidden hurt in his brother’s eyes.
Dean surged forward swinging the crowbar full force at the head of the taller demon, but it was grabbed mid swing and twisted from his grip. As soon as it had the crowbar in hand the demon drove its knee up into Dean’s abdomen.
As Sam watched Dean double over he wanted nothing more than the Colt in working order, but instead he could only watch powerlessly as the demon brought the crowbar down with a crack across Dean’s shoulders sending his brother sinking to his knees.
“No!” Sam shouted out uselessly.
One of the shorter ones kicked a foot out, but this time Dean was the one to make the interception. His brother latched onto the booted foot as it contacted his side, using it to yank the man to the ground.
Dean had always been able to figure out how to make the best of a bad situation, but even if these were only humans there were too many of them for Dean to take alone. Together they could do it no problem, but the demons obviously knew that.
What they probably didn’t know was that just because Dean couldn’t win, didn’t mean that his brother wouldn’t fight like hell. In one sweeping movement, Dean reached around his back, pulled out his gun and fired two shots. The bullets hit both of the men that were still standing, but before another shot could be cocked to leave the chamber the girl swept her hand and sent the gun clattering out of Dean’s reach under a nearby car.
Sam grimaced as she shoved Dean back into the van. His brother barely had his eyes open again before she pulled back her fist and slugged him, snapping his head to the side. Trying to shake it off, Dean didn’t seem to wait to gain his bearings before cocking back his own fist.
The woman grabbed it easily in what must have been a crushing grip. Sam used every bit of strength he had to try to slip free of his paralysis as he heard the yelp of pain that Dean had been unable to bite back.
Before Dean could make another move the woman used her free hand to clamp onto his forehead. She held her hand there for a strangely long moment as she just stared into Dean’s eyes.
They both looked far too still. Then in a burst of movement the demon thrust Dean’s head back against the side of the van with a resonating thud. The sound made Sam want to be sick. Dean’s arm fell limp to his side as his entire body crumpled the rest of the way to the ground.
“Dean!”
While Sam willed his brother to get up this time Dean lay still on the pavement where the girl had let him fall. Casually the thing kneeled down over his brother. She reached into the coat pocket of one of the fallen men and removed a small case. It wasn’t until she shifted positions that Sam could see that she had pulled a syringe from the case.
“Get away from him,” Sam warned before his tone fell into desperation. “He’s not the one you want!”
But the girl didn’t even seem to notice that he was there anymore. She rolled Dean onto his back and pushed his head to the side, exposing his neck. Absently she ran her fingers down his jugular before inserting the needle and pumping the contents of the syringe into his brother. Sam was too stunned to say anything else as he struggled to keep his breath steady. As soon as she came near him she was going to regret ever having touched his brother.
Instead of moving towards him, she just stood and turned to look at him. She smiled sweetly though the hateful glint in her eyes marred any beauty that might have otherwise been on her face. Still, it was then that he really saw her features in full and realized why Dean had stopped fighting so suddenly when he’d seen her. It wasn’t just because she was a girl. It was the girl Dean had been flirting with in the bar.
“This would have been so much easier on you two if Romeo had just stayed for that drink he’d promised,” she told Sam.
His brow furrowed in confusion, but his attention was drawn away from her statement as all four of the demons suddenly exploded from the bodies they had been riding. The girl collapsed to the ground and the pressure holding Sam down was instantly released.
He immediately pushed himself up off the trunk and ran to close the distance between him and his unconscious brother. At least he prayed like hell that he was just unconscious. He jumped over the bodies surrounding Dean and dropped to his knees next to him.
Gently he lifted Dean’s head into his hands, breathing a small sigh of relief when he couldn’t find any notable quantities of blood there. At least it seemed that Dean’s skull hadn’t actually been fractured, not that it meant that plenty else wasn’t wrong.
“Dean? Come on, man. Wake up.”
His brother was alive, but he was out cold. Sam forced his shaky hand to remain steady as he pulled out the syringe that the demon hadn’t bothered to remove from Dean’s neck. He grabbed the case the girl had dropped and put the syringe back into it before slipping it into his jacket pocket. Right now he didn’t have time to figure out what they had put in Dean.
Everyone in the area might have found it convenient to pretend that they hadn’t noticed his brother nearly getting killed by these things, but they had unquestionably heard the gunfire. And now the girl next to him was starting to scream at the top of her lungs as she and the other man that Dean had just knocked out stumbled to their feet awaking next to two dead bodies lying in a growing pool of blood.
He didn’t have time to deal with them either. Lacking any other options, Sam reached down and dug the keys to the Impala from Dean’s pant pocket. He hauled his brother up enough so that he could crouch down and get Dean’s body slung over his shoulder. With a grunt he rose to his feet hoping that he wasn’t making any of Dean’s injuries worse.
“No more cheeseburgers for breakfast,” Sam grumbled as he hauled his brother’s bulk back over to the Impala.
Leaning against the car he fumbled to get the key into the lock before having to shove Dean’s body unceremoniously onto the back seat. Two men had just come running from the bar and while this was no time for ‘I told you so’ one of them was the man who’d had his eyes glued on Dean while they had been inside.
“Police!” the man yelled towards them as he and his partner reached for their weapons. “On the ground now!”
Sam didn’t wait for the apparent undercover cops to get their guns drawn. Instead he reached through to unlock the driver’s side door. He slammed the back door shut and jumped into the driver’s seat. Already he heard the sound of sirens closing in. The officers inside the bar must have called for reinforcements during the fight. Help was coming all right, but it wasn’t for them.
As soon as the Impala’s engine roared to life Sam pushed the gas pedal practically to the floor. Turning the wheel as fast as he could, he just managed to avoid hitting anyone or anything as the old Chevy squealed from the parking lot before the officers got a shot off.
Continue to Chapter 2