Ancient Words: Ch. 20, "Fighting", PG13, Sam, Dean, OC's
Title/Chapter: Ancient Words - Ch. 20 "Fighting"
Author: Supernatural Mommy
Characters: Sam, Dean, OFC, OMC (child), OMC ; no pairings
Spoilers: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to Nightmare
Warnings: PG-13 now, R overall for adult themes. This chapter some religious references: Overall rated for language, violence (including non-con acts depicted with OC's and torture) hurt/comfort, religious references (seriously, this story uses lots of religious references, so if that bothers you, please don't read) I will try to label each chapter appropriately
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em *pity*, but new characters are my own creation.
Summary: The ritual has begun and a sacrifice is offered.
Author's Notes: Sequel to Look Into His Eyes. Please read through my author's notes Here (from first chapter) and Here (Chapter listing and summary with some minor plot spoilers) if you need more information, explanations, etc.
Chapter 20
His back and chest were killing him. With a silent groan, he pushed the pain back and edged his way down the hallway. A creepy chill was working its way down his spine and he stopped, looking around to get his bearings.
He heard a soft groan echo in a room up ahead. His steps quickened, still falling softly, carefully. Dancing shadows escaped from an open door and he heard a soft murmur of someone talking. Slipping into the opening unnoticed, he gaped at the scene that greeted him.
Then, pushing his shock aside, his instincts took over and he started assessing, starting with the long form on the table several feet ahead of him. Sam. His face relaxed for a brief moment. Sammy was really there. His eyes narrowed and gaze hardened.
The dimness of the flickering light hid details he desperately wanted to process. He could tell Sam was tied to some kind of table. And his chest - he tensed - his brother’s chest had been carved up. Was bleeding. And a damn knife was sticking from the center. But he was breathing. Was even looking like he wanted to kick some serious ass. Willing the anger down, he scanned the rest of the room.
Bobby. His fists clenched. The boy was tied to a smaller table. And he had blood all over his torso. His eyes stared blankly ahead. Oh, God.
Two men stood against an opposing wall. One wary and watchful - the bigger threat - and one fidgeting and nervous. He could take them.
His gaze swept and barely caught the slight form of Annie. She was staring at her brother. She leaned weakly against the wall, but seemed to be struggling. Her slight form was barely covered. He blinked back the rage as he accepted her bruised and bleeding condition.
His gaze moved back to his brother. Still processing the details as his eyes sharpened on the man threatening his brother. The possessed man threatening his brother.
That thing put his hands on Sammy’s forehead, seeming to try to do something to his brother. He allowed a small smirk as he saw the demon propelled backwards.
“That’s my boy.” Speaking softly, his eyes took in his brother’s battered form. He watched in mounting horror as the demon moved close to Sam, settling himself before looking down at him. What was he doing?
It didn’t matter. Sam started to scream a piercing, agonizing scream. Dean blinked, trying to understand how his brother was being hurt. Shaking his head, he broke position and moved into action.
Grabbing a bottle of blessed water from his well-stocked pockets, he rushed to place himself right behind the asshole who dared hurt his brother. No one hurt his brother, not while he was here.
He squirted liquid at the demon’s back, intensely satisfied by the rising steam and swift reaction. As the man turned, he threw more of the holy water into the evil face.
He tensed, readying for a fight, when he saw that the demon had moved past reacting to the holy water. He sneered down at him now, looking every inch the evil ba***rd he was.
He moved to the side, trying to maneuver the thing slightly away from his brother.
“Get the f**k away from my brother, you freaky son of a b**ch!” He doused the rest of the holy water directly into the creature’s face, earning another moment’s reprieve. His hand slid carefully to his side, sliding a knife from its sheath in his pocket. He inched himself ever closer to his brother, attempting to pull his body in between his brother and that son of a b**ch.
Carefully, Dean tensed with the knife in his hand behind his back as the creature in front of him shook the liquid from his face, and tried to wipe it free from his eyes. He felt carefully, finally feeling a hand there. Sam.
The energy he gathered from that brief touch fed his relief at having finally found his brother. He allowed himself time for a small squeeze before attempting the task at hand. Warily watching the demon still in front of him, he moved to the side the last couple of inches until he was settled firmly in front of his brother.
He sliced carefully at the rope he felt holding the hand there, slipping the knife quickly into that waiting hand as the demon settled on his feet, facing him with a thunderous expression on his now mutilated face.
“Nice try kid. Now it’s my turn.” With a stare of coal black eyes and a sharp twist of his head, Dean found himself flying through the air. He connected with the wall on the opposite side of the room, tangling in a tapestry that hung there. He landed with a thud on the floor, finding himself next to Annie’s small form. Her eyes widened and he glanced away from her bruised face to see that the possessed man was already closing in on him.
He pushed himself off the floor, using the wall to leverage his sore body. Blocking the pain, he relaxed, and allowed himself to slip into a fighting stance. Not that it would do a lot of good. He eyed the demon as he advanced, unconsciously shifting to place himself in front of Annie.
He considered taunting him, but swallowed the urge down. Considering his nonexistent options, he was about to reach for more holy water.
But suddenly, the demon’s approach was halted. The sneer was replaced with a look of surprise and Dean’s mouth hung open as the demon slid back several feet. What the . . .?
He followed the demon’s incredulous stare to look behind him to Annie, who was staring down the possessed man with a look of complete concentration on her face. He noticed her breathing sounded strained and quickly reached to pull the gag from her face.
He risked a glance back at the demon, and saw he was still reeling from whatever freaky assault Annie had initiated. He reached behind her to check her bindings as her whisper reached him.
“I can’t . . . hold it . . . much longer . . . sorry.” She started shaking and he put a hand on her shoulder. Her shudder of pain caused him to pull away, and instead he pulled a bloody knife from her grasp and used it to quickly slice through her bindings. His eyes absorbed the abuse her body had suffered and locked it away before the rage could consume him.
“Damn, Annie. That was awesome.” She shook, and with a sigh collapsed on herself. He looked up to see the demon again advancing on him. Slowly. Out of the corner of his eye, he made out the two thugs slowly advancing from the side wall. Shit. He needed to draw these guys away from Annie and Sam.
“Christo!” The demon’s flinch was just the slight hesitation he needed to move. In a fluid movement, he grasped a knife from where it was strapped around his ankle, fingering the hilt and rotating it to rest in his hand as he stood and rushed the two men advancing from the side wall.
He had the element of surprise and his two running steps gave him the momentum he needed to deliver a swift upper cut to the first man. He staggered, and Dean took the moment’s reaction to drive a fist to the man’s temple, knocking him out of the action, for now at least.
The assault lasted only a moment, and as Dean turned he saw the possessed man had taken long strides and was watching him with something like amusement on his face.
“You are good, hunter. But no match for me.” He spoke and gathered himself at the same time, drawing his borrowed body up to its full height and exuding an air of strength that Larkin would never have been able to pull off. Shoulders straight and head still cocked slightly to the side, the look of amusement remained. Dean stood straight and tensed, knowing he was flanked by both the demon and the jerk behind him.
His options dwindling, he looked down at the ground. He looked up to meet endless black eyes as the demon stepped even closer to him. He smiled, trying not to let it slip as he felt the demon’s breath hot against his face.
“God, man, get a mint or something. You reek!” He winced at the grin that stole over the burned face in front of him.
“Funny. Grab him.” He motioned the man behind him. But Dean reacted before that man could, stomping his foot down hard on the man’s foot and jamming his elbow backwards hard into the man’s stomach. Hearing the grunt of pain, he spun to the side, again facing the demon.
He needed a plan.
Seeing movement over the possessed man’s shoulder, he almost sighed in relief as he saw his brother sit up slowly. His gaze slipped to just behind the demon, and he swallowed against the bile in his throat at the small child on that table. Bobby.
He averted his gaze. Man. So much blood.
He hardened his face. He didn’t have time for emotions right now. He lifted his eyes to meet dark, soulless ones, swallowing at the threat there. The eyes were all he could see now. Black. Dark. Empty. Unable to look away, a drop of sweat rolled down, over his eyebrow, dropping to splash on his cheek as it continued its slow descent down his face.
But still, he couldn’t look away. He swallowed, unable to command his body to do anything else.
And then the pain began. He felt an explosion of white-hot pain inside his head, pounding inside his temple. His eyes opened wide against the pressure building there. His breathing hitched, then quickened in reaction to the pain.
His body succumbed, falling heavily to knees. Still, while his body reacted, he had no control. Maintaining his balance unconsciously on now trembling knees, he still could only see the demon’s eyes. Black, deep, unending.
He felt the blood as it leaked in a trickle from his left nostril, slowly trailing to tickle his upper lip before running against the outer ridge of his lip until it met the corner of his mouth. Unable to do anything but feel every slight sensory assault through the pain in his head, his breathing became more erratic. His heart pounded.
Hyper-sensitive now, he could still feel the drops of sweat as they ran down his forehead. Could still feel the slight tickle of blood as it dripped free from the corner of his mouth. He sensed a presence moving behind the demon. But he still couldn’t tear his gaze away from those eyes. Black, dark, empty. Never-ending.
The pain consumed him.
*********************************************
Sam pulled his pain-wracked mind slowly into focus, so relieved the agony had ebbed he almost sobbed. He heard the possessed man turn, and was vaguely aware that someone else was there.
For a second, silence and something like a sizzling sound. What?
“Get the f**k away from my brother, you freaky son of a b**ch!”
Dean?
He twisted his still pounding head to the side and looked up through a pain-induced haze to see a familiar profile standing beside him. As he was still trying to wrap his mind around his brother actually, finally, being here, he felt a tentative touch on his hand. Looking down, he saw that Dean’s hand was trying to find his.
He reached awkwardly with his long fingers and grasped the other hand carefully, avoiding the knife held there. Dean! Man, it was so good to know that his brother was here. Feeling the slight squeeze of his brother’s hand, he returned it. The energy he pulled from that small touch fed his determination.
He watched, waiting impatiently, as the knife carefully sliced through the layers of rope holding his wrist to the table. It was almost free when he realized that Dean had stopped. He looked up, watching the interchange between his brother and the demon, as the knife was placed in his hand.
He watched in horror as his brother’s body went flying through the air. As the possessed man walked away, he awkwardly turned the knife around in his hand, using sharp motions with his flexed wrist to help slice the rest of the rope away.
His eyes widened when he realized that Annie was somehow helping his brother now, pushing the demon back. He shook his head, clearing away painful cobwebs, and sighed in relief as he was able to bring his freed arm over to start cutting at the ropes on his other wrist.
He drew in a ragged breath at the pain in his chest as he twisted. His hand was shaking by the time he had the other wrist free. He caught his breath for just a moment before trying to sit up. The pain brought him up short and he fell back down painfully to the table.
He looked over to see how Dean was doing. Not so great. He was now cornered, two of Larkin’s men moving from the other side of the room while Larkin’s body advanced slowly as well. Using every ounce of strength he could pull from his damaged body, he used his shaking arms to push up off the table.
The blood was flowing freely from his chest, both from the hole left behind by the small knife and the other damage to his chest. He winced, and then took a deep breath. Willing the pain to the back of his mind, he spared a glance at his brother. He was flying through the air, in full attack mode.
Looking he leaned over to slice at the ropes binding his ankles. It took several agonizing moments, but they were finally free. He shifted his weight and pulled his body to the side, letting his legs now hang over the side of the table. His feet grazed the floor.
The air in the room shifted and he looked apprehensively over to find his brother again. Not good. The damn demon was directly in front of him, and by the expression on Dean’s face, was starting to mentally pound at his brother now. He eased slowly down from the table, swaying slightly once on his feet. As he watched Dean fall heavily to his knees, he forced his sore body to move.
Agonizing seconds later he was behind the possessed man. He glanced over the shoulder there to see blood now running from Dean’s nose, and sweat pouring from his forehead. He had to do something to stop this. He raised the hilt of the knife and brought the hard end of the handle down on top of Larkin’s head.
Nothing.
Well, shit.
The demon twisted with a sneer on his face.
“I didn’t realize you wanted to join the party, Sammy.” It took a split second’s glance to tell Sam that at least Dean had some relief. He pulled his gaze back to the demon possessed man, trying to maneuver him away from his brother by stepping back.
He stepped back again, frantically trying to figure out some kind of plan. Preferably one that didn’t include the demon ripping him apart.
One more step back.
And another.
Sam was desperately wishing for that plan now, when suddenly the demon went flying. Someone had tackled him. He glanced back over to see his brother still on his knees. Avoiding the blur of bodies on the floor, he made his way slowly over to his brother.
“Dean?” He knelt painfully beside his brother, tears stinging his eyes as he grabbed his arm, turned him to look into those eyes. He swallowed thickly, cursing his weakness. “Man, I was starting to wonder if you’d ever show up!”
“Had . . . to make . . . a dramatic entrance there . . . little . . . brother.” The words escaped painfully, and the answering look on Dean’s face, for just a split second, looked raw. Emotional. But with a blink, the hazel eyes cleared and met his with a steady concern instead. “You okay?”
“Fine, Dean. Come on, we don’t have much time.” He grabbed Dean’s arm and pulled, gasping as pain shot through his chest. Still, he steadied his breathing and jerked even harder on Dean’s arm. His brother’s heavy body came slowly to standing. Sam looked over to see that the bodies were still strewn on the floor. Looking closer his eyes opened a little wider in surprise. George?
George had been the one to tackle the demon? He shook his head. Dean was steadying himself now, so Sam stepped a little closer to the two bodies on the floor, tensing as he saw Larkin’s body begin to move. George lay still.
He turned back to Dean, who was rotating his shoulders and looking around carefully.
“We need to get Annie and Bobby, find Andy. We can’t beat this thing alone.” Sam shook his head. He was concerned about Andy. Last he’d seen of the big man was when the demon threw him off Bobby, after he’d been stabbed trying to protect the boy. He glanced behind him, to find Annie’s eyes steady on him. She blinked, focusing as he met her eyes.
They were running out of time. Fast.
“Aw, man! Damn! Andy’s down for the count, Sam.” He heard a slight shuffle of feet as Dean dropped for a moment. “He’s alive. But oh . . . shit! There’s so much blood!”
“Dean. Get Bobby off that alter. The demon’ll be up any second now. Fast!” Sam couldn’t explain it, but he knew their reprieve was about to be over, and he knew also that Bobby was still in a lot of danger. His gaze narrowed, and in the flash of a second, the possessed man was on his feet and staring Sam down. He gulped, and stepped back.
“Too late, Sammy-boy!” The once blue eyes of Larkin flashed ebony and pinned Sam with a hard stare. Maybe Dean could get Bobby if he could just distract this thing. He closed his eyes, thinking for a second. Then started softly chanting as he stepped back again from the demon.
“Exorcizo te. Immundissime spiritus. Omnis incursio adversarii, omne phantasma, omnis legio, in nominee Domini nostri Jesu Chrisi . . . ” He swallowed thickly as rage twisted the face in front of him. He continued the slow, precise, recital of the ritual. He’d gone straight for the jugular, starting the exorcism without bothering with the Psalm or prayer that normally preceded them. He took another step back, stumbling slightly as he found himself twisted in a leg. Annie. He continued the methodical chant, flinching as the demon seemed to gather himself up taller within the borrowed body.
He suddenly found himself flung against the wall, with a deep pressure holding him up from his neck. He was unable to continue speaking as the world started to tilt around him. Several moments later, the hold was released and his body fell to the floor in a heavy slump. His body was having a hard time recovering, and he fought hard to remain conscious as everything dimmed, greying as if far away.
A tentative touch on his arm drew his unfocused gaze to the side, where he met Annie’s anxious eyes. Her eyes flew up and his gaze followed hers to see the tall visage of a furious demon-possessed man. Well, that wasn’t his brightest plan. He swallowed as the demon sneered down on them. Vision once again sharpened as he willed the pain away. Out of the corner of his peripheral vision he could see Dean pulling Bobby from the table. Great.
So where was the rest of that brilliant plan when he needed it?
*****************************************
She shivered, watching the devotion between the two brothers, wishing desperately she could get to hers. She was gathering herself to try and stand when she noticed Sam backing her way, the possessed Larkin crowding him as he stepped back again.
Okay God, a little help would be awesome right about now. What do we do? Please! Help us! Give me strength Lord, I can’t do this myself, but I need to be strong enough to help. Please, Lord!
Sam stumbled against her limp leg and a moment later steadied himself, only to be flung against the wall. Annie watched in horror as his throat compressed underneath an invisible grip. She realized then he had been reciting part of the exorcism ritual when he had to stop because he couldn’t breath. She concentrated, focusing on just the grip on Sam’s throat.
Come on God, help!
When he slumped to the floor a moment later she had no clue if she had helped or if the demon had just let him go. But Sam didn’t look so great. She reached a tentative hand out to touch his arm.
As he met her gaze, his vision seemed to clear and she appreciated the strength she felt there. She could actually feel it coming from him in waves right now. Her gaze was pulled up to see the demon sneering down at both of them, now. And suddenly she was quite scared. Her grip on Sam tightened and she found herself wishing fervently that she could pull a little of that strength and courage from him. ‘Cause hers had left the building.
God, you know that pesky little verse you shoved down my throat? “For when I am weak then I am strong”? You wouldn’t want to deliver on that promise right about now would you? Or just find some way to help us out? Please? I’m not too proud to say I’m a weakling . . . Lord . . . help us please!
Suddenly her eyes closed and she trembled. Something was happening. She felt . . . weird. She was feeling what must be Sam’s surface emotions in waves. Anger. Lots and lots of anger, and frustration. Fear? Yes. He felt plenty of fear too...she felt it in the pit of her stomach. Under it, coursing strong and vibrantly ran raw power and strength.
Unaware of what her body was doing, she started to feel strengthened. Suddenly more sure, she willed the pain to the back of her mind. She opened her eyes to see Sam’s dark eyes questioning her. She gave a small shake of her head and then turned her attention on the possessed man again.
Still gripping Sam’s arm, she closed her eyes again and mentally shoved as hard as she could, opening her eyes to see the Demon staggering backwards over half the length of the chamber. Wow. Did she do that? She looked over at Sam again.
“Your power . . .Sam . . .” She whispered, understanding hitting her suddenly. “Your power is so strong, when I felt your emotions I was able to absorb some of the energy. I wonder . . .”
Concentrating, she mentally reached out to Sam and felt for the emotions of before. She frowned.
“Trust me, Sam. Feel everything. I have to feel your emotions loud and clear to see if this can work.” She didn’t know how she knew this but, thank you God, it was really clear to her now. With strong emotions, their psychic connection could link them, allow them to share strengths with one another. Before, when she was hit with Sam’s emotions, she didn’t even realize what she was doing and pulled enough raw energy to replace her own reserves.
She opened her eyes to see him looking at her almost incredulously. She sighed, risked a glance back at the biggest threat of the room, and looked back at Sam.
“I think, when I felt your strong emotions just then, it created a link. I was able to borrow some of your strength. I didn’t try to . . .” His gaze narrowed and she rushed on. “But I think it can work both ways, Sam. If I can feel your emotions strongly enough, maybe we can both share. I’ve been able to shove him away twice now.”
He nodded, dark eyes still looking troubled as he glanced over at the demon and then back at her.
“If you can share your strength, your power with me, maybe I can share mine with you. Maybe make it easier for you to use whatever powers you already have.” She studied him, willing him to take a chance. And was relieved when she felt him relax, the emotions radiating off him.
The rest of the room faded away, and again Annie could feel the waves of emotions. They were more contained than before, but as she allowed them to wash over her, still grasping Sam’s arm tightly, she found the pulsing power and strength she had felt before.
She allowed some of the power to wash over her, and it hit like a refreshing wave. She could feel her body strengthen under the assault. She felt blindly for one of Sam’s hands, winding her small fingers through his large ones. Breathing deeply, she concentrated on the innermost part of herself. Her own power, small in comparison, but different, mixed in the stream of feelings, emotions, and traveled back through to Sam. She wouldn’t be able to explain the feeling to anyone ever, but she felt almost whole. His hand squeezed hers as the room again hit them with its encroaching reality.
Her eyes opened, to meet his deep green ones. There was a spark there that hadn’t been before. She tilted her head to the side, wondering at the change. They still held hands, and while she blushed, she was comforted by the strength in that contact. She looked back over to find the demon again on the warpath, coming ever closer to her and Sam. The strong hand squeezed hers, while at the same time Sam slid up the wall to standing. He pulled her hand, helping her up.
Together, they turned to face the demon. He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.
The demon went flying with a shriek.
Whoa! Thank you Jesus! A little bemused by what they had just done, she looked over with a soft grin, which Sam returned.
“Dude! Now that’s what I call using the force!” They twisted to see Dean, carrying a limp Bobby. He nodded his head at the befuddled demon shaking its borrowed head. All eyes were drawn to the pale little boy in his arms.
“Bobby!” Annie was already reaching for her brother, shaking with worry. Dean eased the little guy to the floor, then placed himself in front of his brother, Annie and the kid.
“Oh my God! There’s so much blood!” A tear coursed down her cheek, leaving a cold trail behind. She hadn’t had a clear view during the ceremony. But she had seen Andy come barreling through. She knew the big guy had been stabbed. But Bobby too?
Her hands shook as she felt for a pulse, relieved to find one but oh, so worried that it wasn’t very steady. Oh God . . . oh God . . . She repeated her desperate mantra, rocking slightly as she tried to see where all the blood was coming from.
Finally, with a sob, she tore a strip from her sheet, and started wiping at her brother’s chest. She gasped as the source of the bleeding became clear.
“Damn! Dean! He’s been stabbed.” Sam moved past her shaking hands and started putting pressure on the wound. She watched him, feeling helpless. “It doesn’t make any sense. There’s so much blood, but this isn’t that deep.”
He pulled his hands away, the puncture wound still leaking. But he was right, Annie could tell as she looked closer. It was bleeding, but it didn’t account for the amount of blood drenching her brother. Andy?
So much blood.
She tried to picture what had happened before. Andy came in, jumping to place himself in between Bobby and the dagger Larkin held. How long was that dagger? She gasped when she finally realized what happened.
“He was under Andy when he was stabbed. He must have been stabbed with the same knife, after it went through Andy. Oh, Andy!” Sam was nodding as she spoke, and then tensed as he again applied pressure to the wound in Bobby’s chest.
“Sammy, we got other problems here.” Dean glanced back over his shoulder meeting his brother’s eyes. “You wouldn’t happen to have more of those JEDI tricks up that sleeve . . . um . . . well, yeah. Anymore tricks you can pull out, there, Sammy?”
Sam placed her hands over the wound and helped her push firmly.
“Here, I gotta help him out. I don’t think it’s that bad, but we have to try and stop the bleeding. It’ll be okay, Annie.” He rested a blood-covered hand on her shoulder, green eyes piercing hers quickly, before he stood and turned to stand shoulder to shoulder with his brother.
God, cut us a break here . . . Bobby has to be okay! Please! God?
God?
SORRY FOR THE FORMATTING - ME AND LJ DON'T GET ALONG!
Author: Supernatural Mommy
Characters: Sam, Dean, OFC, OMC (child), OMC ; no pairings
Spoilers: None really, unless you've not seen Season one, to Nightmare
Warnings: PG-13 now, R overall for adult themes. This chapter some religious references: Overall rated for language, violence (including non-con acts depicted with OC's and torture) hurt/comfort, religious references (seriously, this story uses lots of religious references, so if that bothers you, please don't read) I will try to label each chapter appropriately
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em *pity*, but new characters are my own creation.
Summary: The ritual has begun and a sacrifice is offered.
Author's Notes: Sequel to Look Into His Eyes. Please read through my author's notes Here (from first chapter) and Here (Chapter listing and summary with some minor plot spoilers) if you need more information, explanations, etc.
Chapter 20
His back and chest were killing him. With a silent groan, he pushed the pain back and edged his way down the hallway. A creepy chill was working its way down his spine and he stopped, looking around to get his bearings.
He heard a soft groan echo in a room up ahead. His steps quickened, still falling softly, carefully. Dancing shadows escaped from an open door and he heard a soft murmur of someone talking. Slipping into the opening unnoticed, he gaped at the scene that greeted him.
Then, pushing his shock aside, his instincts took over and he started assessing, starting with the long form on the table several feet ahead of him. Sam. His face relaxed for a brief moment. Sammy was really there. His eyes narrowed and gaze hardened.
The dimness of the flickering light hid details he desperately wanted to process. He could tell Sam was tied to some kind of table. And his chest - he tensed - his brother’s chest had been carved up. Was bleeding. And a damn knife was sticking from the center. But he was breathing. Was even looking like he wanted to kick some serious ass. Willing the anger down, he scanned the rest of the room.
Bobby. His fists clenched. The boy was tied to a smaller table. And he had blood all over his torso. His eyes stared blankly ahead. Oh, God.
Two men stood against an opposing wall. One wary and watchful - the bigger threat - and one fidgeting and nervous. He could take them.
His gaze swept and barely caught the slight form of Annie. She was staring at her brother. She leaned weakly against the wall, but seemed to be struggling. Her slight form was barely covered. He blinked back the rage as he accepted her bruised and bleeding condition.
His gaze moved back to his brother. Still processing the details as his eyes sharpened on the man threatening his brother. The possessed man threatening his brother.
That thing put his hands on Sammy’s forehead, seeming to try to do something to his brother. He allowed a small smirk as he saw the demon propelled backwards.
“That’s my boy.” Speaking softly, his eyes took in his brother’s battered form. He watched in mounting horror as the demon moved close to Sam, settling himself before looking down at him. What was he doing?
It didn’t matter. Sam started to scream a piercing, agonizing scream. Dean blinked, trying to understand how his brother was being hurt. Shaking his head, he broke position and moved into action.
Grabbing a bottle of blessed water from his well-stocked pockets, he rushed to place himself right behind the asshole who dared hurt his brother. No one hurt his brother, not while he was here.
He squirted liquid at the demon’s back, intensely satisfied by the rising steam and swift reaction. As the man turned, he threw more of the holy water into the evil face.
He tensed, readying for a fight, when he saw that the demon had moved past reacting to the holy water. He sneered down at him now, looking every inch the evil ba***rd he was.
He moved to the side, trying to maneuver the thing slightly away from his brother.
“Get the f**k away from my brother, you freaky son of a b**ch!” He doused the rest of the holy water directly into the creature’s face, earning another moment’s reprieve. His hand slid carefully to his side, sliding a knife from its sheath in his pocket. He inched himself ever closer to his brother, attempting to pull his body in between his brother and that son of a b**ch.
Carefully, Dean tensed with the knife in his hand behind his back as the creature in front of him shook the liquid from his face, and tried to wipe it free from his eyes. He felt carefully, finally feeling a hand there. Sam.
The energy he gathered from that brief touch fed his relief at having finally found his brother. He allowed himself time for a small squeeze before attempting the task at hand. Warily watching the demon still in front of him, he moved to the side the last couple of inches until he was settled firmly in front of his brother.
He sliced carefully at the rope he felt holding the hand there, slipping the knife quickly into that waiting hand as the demon settled on his feet, facing him with a thunderous expression on his now mutilated face.
“Nice try kid. Now it’s my turn.” With a stare of coal black eyes and a sharp twist of his head, Dean found himself flying through the air. He connected with the wall on the opposite side of the room, tangling in a tapestry that hung there. He landed with a thud on the floor, finding himself next to Annie’s small form. Her eyes widened and he glanced away from her bruised face to see that the possessed man was already closing in on him.
He pushed himself off the floor, using the wall to leverage his sore body. Blocking the pain, he relaxed, and allowed himself to slip into a fighting stance. Not that it would do a lot of good. He eyed the demon as he advanced, unconsciously shifting to place himself in front of Annie.
He considered taunting him, but swallowed the urge down. Considering his nonexistent options, he was about to reach for more holy water.
But suddenly, the demon’s approach was halted. The sneer was replaced with a look of surprise and Dean’s mouth hung open as the demon slid back several feet. What the . . .?
He followed the demon’s incredulous stare to look behind him to Annie, who was staring down the possessed man with a look of complete concentration on her face. He noticed her breathing sounded strained and quickly reached to pull the gag from her face.
He risked a glance back at the demon, and saw he was still reeling from whatever freaky assault Annie had initiated. He reached behind her to check her bindings as her whisper reached him.
“I can’t . . . hold it . . . much longer . . . sorry.” She started shaking and he put a hand on her shoulder. Her shudder of pain caused him to pull away, and instead he pulled a bloody knife from her grasp and used it to quickly slice through her bindings. His eyes absorbed the abuse her body had suffered and locked it away before the rage could consume him.
“Damn, Annie. That was awesome.” She shook, and with a sigh collapsed on herself. He looked up to see the demon again advancing on him. Slowly. Out of the corner of his eye, he made out the two thugs slowly advancing from the side wall. Shit. He needed to draw these guys away from Annie and Sam.
“Christo!” The demon’s flinch was just the slight hesitation he needed to move. In a fluid movement, he grasped a knife from where it was strapped around his ankle, fingering the hilt and rotating it to rest in his hand as he stood and rushed the two men advancing from the side wall.
He had the element of surprise and his two running steps gave him the momentum he needed to deliver a swift upper cut to the first man. He staggered, and Dean took the moment’s reaction to drive a fist to the man’s temple, knocking him out of the action, for now at least.
The assault lasted only a moment, and as Dean turned he saw the possessed man had taken long strides and was watching him with something like amusement on his face.
“You are good, hunter. But no match for me.” He spoke and gathered himself at the same time, drawing his borrowed body up to its full height and exuding an air of strength that Larkin would never have been able to pull off. Shoulders straight and head still cocked slightly to the side, the look of amusement remained. Dean stood straight and tensed, knowing he was flanked by both the demon and the jerk behind him.
His options dwindling, he looked down at the ground. He looked up to meet endless black eyes as the demon stepped even closer to him. He smiled, trying not to let it slip as he felt the demon’s breath hot against his face.
“God, man, get a mint or something. You reek!” He winced at the grin that stole over the burned face in front of him.
“Funny. Grab him.” He motioned the man behind him. But Dean reacted before that man could, stomping his foot down hard on the man’s foot and jamming his elbow backwards hard into the man’s stomach. Hearing the grunt of pain, he spun to the side, again facing the demon.
He needed a plan.
Seeing movement over the possessed man’s shoulder, he almost sighed in relief as he saw his brother sit up slowly. His gaze slipped to just behind the demon, and he swallowed against the bile in his throat at the small child on that table. Bobby.
He averted his gaze. Man. So much blood.
He hardened his face. He didn’t have time for emotions right now. He lifted his eyes to meet dark, soulless ones, swallowing at the threat there. The eyes were all he could see now. Black. Dark. Empty. Unable to look away, a drop of sweat rolled down, over his eyebrow, dropping to splash on his cheek as it continued its slow descent down his face.
But still, he couldn’t look away. He swallowed, unable to command his body to do anything else.
And then the pain began. He felt an explosion of white-hot pain inside his head, pounding inside his temple. His eyes opened wide against the pressure building there. His breathing hitched, then quickened in reaction to the pain.
His body succumbed, falling heavily to knees. Still, while his body reacted, he had no control. Maintaining his balance unconsciously on now trembling knees, he still could only see the demon’s eyes. Black, deep, unending.
He felt the blood as it leaked in a trickle from his left nostril, slowly trailing to tickle his upper lip before running against the outer ridge of his lip until it met the corner of his mouth. Unable to do anything but feel every slight sensory assault through the pain in his head, his breathing became more erratic. His heart pounded.
Hyper-sensitive now, he could still feel the drops of sweat as they ran down his forehead. Could still feel the slight tickle of blood as it dripped free from the corner of his mouth. He sensed a presence moving behind the demon. But he still couldn’t tear his gaze away from those eyes. Black, dark, empty. Never-ending.
The pain consumed him.
*********************************************
Sam pulled his pain-wracked mind slowly into focus, so relieved the agony had ebbed he almost sobbed. He heard the possessed man turn, and was vaguely aware that someone else was there.
For a second, silence and something like a sizzling sound. What?
“Get the f**k away from my brother, you freaky son of a b**ch!”
Dean?
He twisted his still pounding head to the side and looked up through a pain-induced haze to see a familiar profile standing beside him. As he was still trying to wrap his mind around his brother actually, finally, being here, he felt a tentative touch on his hand. Looking down, he saw that Dean’s hand was trying to find his.
He reached awkwardly with his long fingers and grasped the other hand carefully, avoiding the knife held there. Dean! Man, it was so good to know that his brother was here. Feeling the slight squeeze of his brother’s hand, he returned it. The energy he pulled from that small touch fed his determination.
He watched, waiting impatiently, as the knife carefully sliced through the layers of rope holding his wrist to the table. It was almost free when he realized that Dean had stopped. He looked up, watching the interchange between his brother and the demon, as the knife was placed in his hand.
He watched in horror as his brother’s body went flying through the air. As the possessed man walked away, he awkwardly turned the knife around in his hand, using sharp motions with his flexed wrist to help slice the rest of the rope away.
His eyes widened when he realized that Annie was somehow helping his brother now, pushing the demon back. He shook his head, clearing away painful cobwebs, and sighed in relief as he was able to bring his freed arm over to start cutting at the ropes on his other wrist.
He drew in a ragged breath at the pain in his chest as he twisted. His hand was shaking by the time he had the other wrist free. He caught his breath for just a moment before trying to sit up. The pain brought him up short and he fell back down painfully to the table.
He looked over to see how Dean was doing. Not so great. He was now cornered, two of Larkin’s men moving from the other side of the room while Larkin’s body advanced slowly as well. Using every ounce of strength he could pull from his damaged body, he used his shaking arms to push up off the table.
The blood was flowing freely from his chest, both from the hole left behind by the small knife and the other damage to his chest. He winced, and then took a deep breath. Willing the pain to the back of his mind, he spared a glance at his brother. He was flying through the air, in full attack mode.
Looking he leaned over to slice at the ropes binding his ankles. It took several agonizing moments, but they were finally free. He shifted his weight and pulled his body to the side, letting his legs now hang over the side of the table. His feet grazed the floor.
The air in the room shifted and he looked apprehensively over to find his brother again. Not good. The damn demon was directly in front of him, and by the expression on Dean’s face, was starting to mentally pound at his brother now. He eased slowly down from the table, swaying slightly once on his feet. As he watched Dean fall heavily to his knees, he forced his sore body to move.
Agonizing seconds later he was behind the possessed man. He glanced over the shoulder there to see blood now running from Dean’s nose, and sweat pouring from his forehead. He had to do something to stop this. He raised the hilt of the knife and brought the hard end of the handle down on top of Larkin’s head.
Nothing.
Well, shit.
The demon twisted with a sneer on his face.
“I didn’t realize you wanted to join the party, Sammy.” It took a split second’s glance to tell Sam that at least Dean had some relief. He pulled his gaze back to the demon possessed man, trying to maneuver him away from his brother by stepping back.
He stepped back again, frantically trying to figure out some kind of plan. Preferably one that didn’t include the demon ripping him apart.
One more step back.
And another.
Sam was desperately wishing for that plan now, when suddenly the demon went flying. Someone had tackled him. He glanced back over to see his brother still on his knees. Avoiding the blur of bodies on the floor, he made his way slowly over to his brother.
“Dean?” He knelt painfully beside his brother, tears stinging his eyes as he grabbed his arm, turned him to look into those eyes. He swallowed thickly, cursing his weakness. “Man, I was starting to wonder if you’d ever show up!”
“Had . . . to make . . . a dramatic entrance there . . . little . . . brother.” The words escaped painfully, and the answering look on Dean’s face, for just a split second, looked raw. Emotional. But with a blink, the hazel eyes cleared and met his with a steady concern instead. “You okay?”
“Fine, Dean. Come on, we don’t have much time.” He grabbed Dean’s arm and pulled, gasping as pain shot through his chest. Still, he steadied his breathing and jerked even harder on Dean’s arm. His brother’s heavy body came slowly to standing. Sam looked over to see that the bodies were still strewn on the floor. Looking closer his eyes opened a little wider in surprise. George?
George had been the one to tackle the demon? He shook his head. Dean was steadying himself now, so Sam stepped a little closer to the two bodies on the floor, tensing as he saw Larkin’s body begin to move. George lay still.
He turned back to Dean, who was rotating his shoulders and looking around carefully.
“We need to get Annie and Bobby, find Andy. We can’t beat this thing alone.” Sam shook his head. He was concerned about Andy. Last he’d seen of the big man was when the demon threw him off Bobby, after he’d been stabbed trying to protect the boy. He glanced behind him, to find Annie’s eyes steady on him. She blinked, focusing as he met her eyes.
They were running out of time. Fast.
“Aw, man! Damn! Andy’s down for the count, Sam.” He heard a slight shuffle of feet as Dean dropped for a moment. “He’s alive. But oh . . . shit! There’s so much blood!”
“Dean. Get Bobby off that alter. The demon’ll be up any second now. Fast!” Sam couldn’t explain it, but he knew their reprieve was about to be over, and he knew also that Bobby was still in a lot of danger. His gaze narrowed, and in the flash of a second, the possessed man was on his feet and staring Sam down. He gulped, and stepped back.
“Too late, Sammy-boy!” The once blue eyes of Larkin flashed ebony and pinned Sam with a hard stare. Maybe Dean could get Bobby if he could just distract this thing. He closed his eyes, thinking for a second. Then started softly chanting as he stepped back again from the demon.
“Exorcizo te. Immundissime spiritus. Omnis incursio adversarii, omne phantasma, omnis legio, in nominee Domini nostri Jesu Chrisi . . . ” He swallowed thickly as rage twisted the face in front of him. He continued the slow, precise, recital of the ritual. He’d gone straight for the jugular, starting the exorcism without bothering with the Psalm or prayer that normally preceded them. He took another step back, stumbling slightly as he found himself twisted in a leg. Annie. He continued the methodical chant, flinching as the demon seemed to gather himself up taller within the borrowed body.
He suddenly found himself flung against the wall, with a deep pressure holding him up from his neck. He was unable to continue speaking as the world started to tilt around him. Several moments later, the hold was released and his body fell to the floor in a heavy slump. His body was having a hard time recovering, and he fought hard to remain conscious as everything dimmed, greying as if far away.
A tentative touch on his arm drew his unfocused gaze to the side, where he met Annie’s anxious eyes. Her eyes flew up and his gaze followed hers to see the tall visage of a furious demon-possessed man. Well, that wasn’t his brightest plan. He swallowed as the demon sneered down on them. Vision once again sharpened as he willed the pain away. Out of the corner of his peripheral vision he could see Dean pulling Bobby from the table. Great.
So where was the rest of that brilliant plan when he needed it?
*****************************************
She shivered, watching the devotion between the two brothers, wishing desperately she could get to hers. She was gathering herself to try and stand when she noticed Sam backing her way, the possessed Larkin crowding him as he stepped back again.
Okay God, a little help would be awesome right about now. What do we do? Please! Help us! Give me strength Lord, I can’t do this myself, but I need to be strong enough to help. Please, Lord!
Sam stumbled against her limp leg and a moment later steadied himself, only to be flung against the wall. Annie watched in horror as his throat compressed underneath an invisible grip. She realized then he had been reciting part of the exorcism ritual when he had to stop because he couldn’t breath. She concentrated, focusing on just the grip on Sam’s throat.
Come on God, help!
When he slumped to the floor a moment later she had no clue if she had helped or if the demon had just let him go. But Sam didn’t look so great. She reached a tentative hand out to touch his arm.
As he met her gaze, his vision seemed to clear and she appreciated the strength she felt there. She could actually feel it coming from him in waves right now. Her gaze was pulled up to see the demon sneering down at both of them, now. And suddenly she was quite scared. Her grip on Sam tightened and she found herself wishing fervently that she could pull a little of that strength and courage from him. ‘Cause hers had left the building.
God, you know that pesky little verse you shoved down my throat? “For when I am weak then I am strong”? You wouldn’t want to deliver on that promise right about now would you? Or just find some way to help us out? Please? I’m not too proud to say I’m a weakling . . . Lord . . . help us please!
Suddenly her eyes closed and she trembled. Something was happening. She felt . . . weird. She was feeling what must be Sam’s surface emotions in waves. Anger. Lots and lots of anger, and frustration. Fear? Yes. He felt plenty of fear too...she felt it in the pit of her stomach. Under it, coursing strong and vibrantly ran raw power and strength.
Unaware of what her body was doing, she started to feel strengthened. Suddenly more sure, she willed the pain to the back of her mind. She opened her eyes to see Sam’s dark eyes questioning her. She gave a small shake of her head and then turned her attention on the possessed man again.
Still gripping Sam’s arm, she closed her eyes again and mentally shoved as hard as she could, opening her eyes to see the Demon staggering backwards over half the length of the chamber. Wow. Did she do that? She looked over at Sam again.
“Your power . . .Sam . . .” She whispered, understanding hitting her suddenly. “Your power is so strong, when I felt your emotions I was able to absorb some of the energy. I wonder . . .”
Concentrating, she mentally reached out to Sam and felt for the emotions of before. She frowned.
“Trust me, Sam. Feel everything. I have to feel your emotions loud and clear to see if this can work.” She didn’t know how she knew this but, thank you God, it was really clear to her now. With strong emotions, their psychic connection could link them, allow them to share strengths with one another. Before, when she was hit with Sam’s emotions, she didn’t even realize what she was doing and pulled enough raw energy to replace her own reserves.
She opened her eyes to see him looking at her almost incredulously. She sighed, risked a glance back at the biggest threat of the room, and looked back at Sam.
“I think, when I felt your strong emotions just then, it created a link. I was able to borrow some of your strength. I didn’t try to . . .” His gaze narrowed and she rushed on. “But I think it can work both ways, Sam. If I can feel your emotions strongly enough, maybe we can both share. I’ve been able to shove him away twice now.”
He nodded, dark eyes still looking troubled as he glanced over at the demon and then back at her.
“If you can share your strength, your power with me, maybe I can share mine with you. Maybe make it easier for you to use whatever powers you already have.” She studied him, willing him to take a chance. And was relieved when she felt him relax, the emotions radiating off him.
The rest of the room faded away, and again Annie could feel the waves of emotions. They were more contained than before, but as she allowed them to wash over her, still grasping Sam’s arm tightly, she found the pulsing power and strength she had felt before.
She allowed some of the power to wash over her, and it hit like a refreshing wave. She could feel her body strengthen under the assault. She felt blindly for one of Sam’s hands, winding her small fingers through his large ones. Breathing deeply, she concentrated on the innermost part of herself. Her own power, small in comparison, but different, mixed in the stream of feelings, emotions, and traveled back through to Sam. She wouldn’t be able to explain the feeling to anyone ever, but she felt almost whole. His hand squeezed hers as the room again hit them with its encroaching reality.
Her eyes opened, to meet his deep green ones. There was a spark there that hadn’t been before. She tilted her head to the side, wondering at the change. They still held hands, and while she blushed, she was comforted by the strength in that contact. She looked back over to find the demon again on the warpath, coming ever closer to her and Sam. The strong hand squeezed hers, while at the same time Sam slid up the wall to standing. He pulled her hand, helping her up.
Together, they turned to face the demon. He squeezed her hand, and she squeezed back.
The demon went flying with a shriek.
Whoa! Thank you Jesus! A little bemused by what they had just done, she looked over with a soft grin, which Sam returned.
“Dude! Now that’s what I call using the force!” They twisted to see Dean, carrying a limp Bobby. He nodded his head at the befuddled demon shaking its borrowed head. All eyes were drawn to the pale little boy in his arms.
“Bobby!” Annie was already reaching for her brother, shaking with worry. Dean eased the little guy to the floor, then placed himself in front of his brother, Annie and the kid.
“Oh my God! There’s so much blood!” A tear coursed down her cheek, leaving a cold trail behind. She hadn’t had a clear view during the ceremony. But she had seen Andy come barreling through. She knew the big guy had been stabbed. But Bobby too?
Her hands shook as she felt for a pulse, relieved to find one but oh, so worried that it wasn’t very steady. Oh God . . . oh God . . . She repeated her desperate mantra, rocking slightly as she tried to see where all the blood was coming from.
Finally, with a sob, she tore a strip from her sheet, and started wiping at her brother’s chest. She gasped as the source of the bleeding became clear.
“Damn! Dean! He’s been stabbed.” Sam moved past her shaking hands and started putting pressure on the wound. She watched him, feeling helpless. “It doesn’t make any sense. There’s so much blood, but this isn’t that deep.”
He pulled his hands away, the puncture wound still leaking. But he was right, Annie could tell as she looked closer. It was bleeding, but it didn’t account for the amount of blood drenching her brother. Andy?
So much blood.
She tried to picture what had happened before. Andy came in, jumping to place himself in between Bobby and the dagger Larkin held. How long was that dagger? She gasped when she finally realized what happened.
“He was under Andy when he was stabbed. He must have been stabbed with the same knife, after it went through Andy. Oh, Andy!” Sam was nodding as she spoke, and then tensed as he again applied pressure to the wound in Bobby’s chest.
“Sammy, we got other problems here.” Dean glanced back over his shoulder meeting his brother’s eyes. “You wouldn’t happen to have more of those JEDI tricks up that sleeve . . . um . . . well, yeah. Anymore tricks you can pull out, there, Sammy?”
Sam placed her hands over the wound and helped her push firmly.
“Here, I gotta help him out. I don’t think it’s that bad, but we have to try and stop the bleeding. It’ll be okay, Annie.” He rested a blood-covered hand on her shoulder, green eyes piercing hers quickly, before he stood and turned to stand shoulder to shoulder with his brother.
God, cut us a break here . . . Bobby has to be okay! Please! God?
God?
SORRY FOR THE FORMATTING - ME AND LJ DON'T GET ALONG!