Ancient Words: Ch. 21/?, "The Protectors", PG13, Sam, Dean, OC's
Title/Chapter: Ancient Words - Ch. 21 "The Protectors"
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 protectors rise to the challenge. Will they be too late?
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 21 - "The Protectors"
The time was swiftly approaching.
Great wings quivering in agitation, the Being turned, gazing at the scene before him.
The smallest figure in the room drew his attention, his light strong even though he was covered in a crimson stain. The little one had whispered the ancient words until his body betrayed him, succumbing to stress and blood loss. He was but a mere boy.
The key.
So innocent still.
His protector loomed close, her light shimmering even while tears glistened. Her silent prayers whispered towards him, around him. They pierced him, his fathomless eyes opening wide as his prayers joined hers, mixing to form a symphony of want and need.
Please, my Lord, help the boy. Strengthen him. Be with him.
Her words within: God, cut us a break here . . .
Lord, this little one is so much more than the key. He is innocence and light. He is pure. Save him, Lord.
The desperate whisper of a sister echoed: Bobby has to be okay! Please!
He closed his eyes against the desperation, the fear. Lord!
Jalmari’s eyes snapped open. The answer had come.
It was time.
****************************************
It hurt.
It hurt bad.
He opened his eyes, trying to see past the wet in them.
He blinked. Again.
“Hurts.” He sounded funny, like he was using his quiet voice. But he wasn’t trying to.
“God. Hep’. Hurts.” The wet was all over his eyes again. On his cheeks. His chin.
And then, it was better. He sniffed. The wet was still in his eyes. It didn’t hurt now. But he was still scared.
He tried to be brave.
He said the words.
Andy said to say the special words. And he did. He was here now, not there. There it was scary and the bad thing was being mean. Here was nice. He liked it here. The bad thing wasn’t here.
But . . . he was scared.
Andy hurt. And Annie hurt. And Sammy hurt. He wanted to help them; Wanted to be brave.
He was still scared.
He wiped the wet away. But more came.
It was all too much. And he was scared.
Someone was here. He looked up. Smiled.
It was his special friend.
Now he could be brave again.
********************************
The small one looked up at him with tears flooding his eyes, rolling all over that sweet face. Fear radiated from him. But underneath, Jalmari knew there was confusion and anger swirling.
Oh, Lord, how to help him understand? How to help him fulfill his role now?
His wings flexed as he sat at the little one’s level.
“Jalmari, help!” He was surprised to feel the child’s weight as he flung his small body against his chest. Rocking slightly with the boy, he curled his wings around them both protectively. “Scared.”
The last word was muffled against his chest as he held the little one gently, praying softly for the words to come.
“Bad thing hurt Andy. Annie. Sam-mie. Bad thing, Jalmari.” The quivering voice wasn’t really relaying the facts. No, the angel understood the boy was desperately seeking answers.
The being sighed deeply.
“I know this is hard for you to understand, little one. The evil hurting them is very, very bad.” He looked down to see Bobby’s still-confused face.
“God help? Jalmari? God make bad thing go away . . . make all better.” He nodded his head and Jalmari hung his. If only it were that easy.
“No, little one. God cannot make this go away. He cannot make all the bad things go away.” He was startled by the small hand that suddenly started pounding against his chest. Now both fists were pounding away. He wondered at the emotions crossing the boy’s face, realizing quickly that the boy didn’t understand how to deal with his intense emotions.
“God help! God good . . . thing bad . . . good fight bad . . .Jalmari!” He did not understand. His mind tried to make connections that, in his innocence, could not be made. Jalmari felt the odd sting of tears in his eyes as he fought to help the boy understand.
“Little one. God needs special people like you to help him. To be brave. And to fight for Him. To fight the evil one.” The boy stopped hitting him and stared at his chest, shoulders slumped and eyes still raining tears.
“Bobby scared.” His voice was small. He sat huddled in Jalmari’s lap.
“God is still with you, little one. Right here.” He gently poked the little boy’s chest, above his heart. “He is close to you, child. Always with you.”
The small head rose slowly, tears still dripping. He sniffed, and stood up. His little face was still hard. His hands were fisted at his side, and shoulders were now squared. When he met the angel’s eyes, Jalmari blinked in shock. This little one wasn’t angry any longer. He was furious.
“God big. Fight bad thing easy. Bobby small. Hard fight bad thing. God need help! GOD NEED HELP!” He raised his voice to screaming, rocking slightly and trembling all over. He stomped a foot, accentuating his anger and frustration. Jalmari knew the boy did not understand why, if He could, God did not fix it.
He wrapped strong arms around the trembling child. Pulling him close as he rose to his knees. His wings vibrated with emotion behind him.
“Bobby. God wants you to help your sister, to help the pastor and Sam. More, little one, God needs you to help all of us. Help God.”
He had assumed correctly. At the mention of helping his sister and their friends, he was again open. Amazingly, his furious expression had abated, leaving a scared, tired boy behind.
“But Bobby small. God big. How Bobby help?”
“Yes. You are small, child. But you are also very special. You can speak the special words, and the most ancient of words. You are very special, little one.” He saw the bewilderment in the child’s face. Such innocence. He drew a deep breath.
“Bobby like special words.” He leaned forward and Jalmari grasped his hand, drawing it close to his own chest.
“It is more than that, child. There is power behind the words. But, Bobby . . .” Here he paused and met the little one’s deep eyes. Bottomless. Such intensity. “When you say the words, they become more. They have great power.”
The eyes across from his didn’t blink. He grasped the hand he held more tightly. He must understand. It was time.
He had helped him the one other time he had called down the most ancient of words - after the yellow-eyed demon had wrought such devastation before. He had been weaving the words into his mind ever since, knowing that the little one might be called to use them once again.
All of heaven waited.
What this simple, innocent child could never truly understand, was that the most ancient of languages was the language of heaven, of angels. Only a true innocent, exceptionally pure, a chosen one, could use those words and pull heaven’s power into use on earth.
Heaven was waiting.
The faith of a child, this chosen one, was about to be put to the ultimate test.
“The most ancient of words are very special words. More special, even, than the ones you call your special words. They are very old, in fact . . .” He again looked into the bottomless brown eyes. Drawing a deep breath, he spoke again, waiting for Bobby to understand. “They are as old as the angels of heaven.”
The boy’s eyes widened and a small smile played around the corners of his mouth. He understood! Jalmari had spoken his last sentence in the ancient tongue, willing the boy to understand. And he did. As he had the Latin before, and the Aramaic after that.
“Why not Latin, Jalmari? Why the angel words?” A smile rose on the angel’s face at the boy’s name for the ancient language. And then, the boy showed why he was chosen. Why he was special. He lapsed into the ancient words, flawlessly questioning him further. “What words can hurt the evil?”
In the most ancient of languages, he was already fluent, already seamlessly able to connect his words. And he had made the connections needed quickly. Again, Jalmari’s heart swelled for this small child. This special one.
“The evil there is very old, and very strong. He cannot be swayed with Latin. It will hurt him, but it will not send him back where he belongs. In hell.” He finished his statement with a hard tone, considering the evil. As for the child’s other question. “You will know the words to use when the time is upon you. The words will talk, they will come forth.”
What the child could not possibly understand, was that he was indeed chosen.
He was the key. If evil killed him and turned the key, they would have full access to the veil. The final war would be upon them all.
But, with Bobby on the side of the angels, heaven itself would close the veil in this place, and the evil being would be lost within the portal.
Heaven waited for the chosen one to act now.
And the other parts of the whole, the sister and the hunters, their roles would allow the plan to unfold. Already, they had merged to protect the special child.
And the holy one. He had acted to save evil from turning the key. His role would not be forgotten.
Heaven waited.
With a soft hug and a whispered prayer, he held the small hand until he could no longer feel it. The boy was back.
The time had come.
Heaven watched.
************************************
Sam squared his shoulders, finding small comfort in the warmth of Dean’s shoulder against his arm. His hands fisted at his sides. His chest ached. He pushed the pain away. His whole body shook. He took a deep breath, steadying himself and pushing the weakness away. They didn’t have time for that.
This demon was powerful.
Too powerful, he suddenly realized.
“Dean. I’m not sure what we should do . . . this thing is powerful. It’s really old.” He was whispering to his brother while still steadily watching the evil being across the room. It advanced.
“Exorcism?”
“It might weaken it, hurt it, but I don’t think it’s enough.”
“What, the force tingling there, young Skywalker?”
“I guess. I can just feel the difference. This thing is powerful. Earlier Bobby was chanting in Latin and it hurt him, but not much. And I did part of the exorcism too. Nothing. Except piss it off.” He risked a glance back over his shoulder at Annie and Bobby. Swallowed.
“How about we just kick its ass and worry about sending it back to hell afterwards?” Dean pulled two bottles out of his stuffed jacket pockets, handing one to Sam. “Try the ritual again while we’re giving it a holy shower.”
As the demon within Larkin approached, he almost swaggered in his borrowed body.
Dean stepped forward. Sam unscrewed the cap on his water and started softly chanting the ritual, from the beginning of his and Bobby’s remembered routine. He watched as a spray of water left Dean’s hand.
A little steam escaped where it hit Larkin’s chest, but the demon still edged closer.
“You think holy water can work on me, human?” His cold dark eyes studied them and he paused in his approach. He winced, but then stepped closer. “Just as those words you use cannot work on one like me.”
He glared at the brothers as he inched closer. With a sweep of his arm, he divided them, sending Dean flying one way, Sam the other.
Sam was able to continue chanting, seeing that it had at least a slight effect on the thing. But he hit the floor hard, and scrambled to restart his soft chanting as he rose shakily to stand. He glanced over to see Dean scrambling to his feet.
The demon was no longer paying them attention, focused instead on the prize in front of him.
Bobby. Laying in Annie’s arms.
“You gotta plan B?” Sam shook his head, still softly chanting, as he rushed over to stand beside the evil creature. Dean stared at him from the other side. They looked at each other steadily, then down to the bottles in each others’ hands.
They both reached the conclusion at the same time.
Water flew from both bottles to pelt the demon. Steam rose in a satisfying hissing roar. But Larkin’s head just shook, water flying in droplets from his drenched person. The brothers watched as he tensed, Sam’s voice rising in a desperate attempt to keep the creature at bay.
“You fools! I cannot be affected by such things.” He glared at them, black eyes shimmering in rage. From one side to the other, he stared at the brothers.
But then a shocked expression came over his face and he stared down at his feet. He was sliding backwards inch by inch. His eyes flew in front of him to meet the steady, pinched features of Annie. She grinned. Then furrowed her eyebrows in deep concentration, pushing her head forward in a sharp motion.
The demon flew across the room, where he had landed in a heap.
“Whoa, Annie. That was awesome!” Dean was looking over at the demon with a bit of awe on his face. But Sam was studying the girl at his feet. He crouched down.
“You okay?” He reached a hand over to grasp her free one. She was pale, trembling. And barely conscious. He glanced toward his brother. “Dean!”
The other man turned at Sam’s panicked voice, crouching to study Annie. He glanced at Sam, then back at the girl.
“She was already hurt pretty bad. That bastard . . .” He let his words trail away. Her bruised, trembling form spoke volumes. That, and the sheet wrapped around her. Dean reached a hand out to feel for her pulse, gently rotating her head so he could place his fingers on her neck. Sam grabbed Bobby’s still form, gently pulling the boy close to him as he stared down at the sister.
“Her pulse is weak, but it’s there. Don’t think she can take much more, though.” His gaze hardened, but his touch was gentle as he pulled her to rest against his chest for a moment. He shrugged his jacket off, pulling a couple items awkwardly from the pockets there first. He placed it around her shoulders. He looked behind her to see the bunched up blanket she had used before. He balled it up and placed it on the floor, then gently lay her to rest on it.
Her eyes opened with a flutter and she looked up into Dean’s face, then over at Sam, her eyes finally resting on her brother. She opened and closed her mouth, and a tear escaped to roll down her cheek.
“Don’t worry. We’ve got him.” Sam tried to reassure her with a soft voice, and she nodded, but her face was still scrunched in worry. As if on cue, the soft form in his arms started wiggling, pushing against his chest. He winced as the small hand connected with his open wound there.
“Time.” It was a gruff whisper, and Sam twisted down to look at the small face. The eyes that pinned him weren’t the ones he was used to, though. What the . . .
“Dean?” He looked down into the eyes again, and they returned the gaze, unblinking. “Uh . . . Bobby? Kiddo? You okay?”
With effort, he tore his eyes away to meet his brother’s.
“What is it? Bobby?” Annie, alarmed now, was trying to sit up. Dean moved to help her, gently moving her into sitting. They both stared intently at the boy in Sam’s arms. It was Bobby. But . . .
“Christo!” Sam whispered it into the boy’s face. No response. His shoulders sagged in relief. But what the . . .
Blinking now, the eyes stared back into Sam’s. The head turned to gaze at Annie. Dean.
“Time.” Bobby’s voice, but it was gruff, almost . . . pleading. The eyes. Again, they pinned Sam, who swallowed and actually flinched from the intensity. Bobby’s brown eyes stared back at him, but it was almost like they glowed. Like they never ended. He could get lost in those deep eyes. The intensity was unnerving. And they were almost vibrating with a glow that was not natural. But, if he wasn’t possessed . . . then what?
They all watched, oblivious to the now enraged advance of the deadly demon. Except Bobby.
The boy’s head twisted sharply, pinning the demon with a stare.
“Time. Help now.” Clearly spoken, but still said in a gruff voice. With a look of extreme concentration, he twisted his small form away from Sam’s hold and stood gracefully, starting to speak again. Kind of. It sounded like he was talking. But it was no language they had ever heard before. Sam grabbed the small hand in front of him, accepted the shocking gaze as the boy turned it his way.
“Bobby?”
Those eyes again. He swallowed thickly. This wasn’t Bobby. At least not the Bobby he knew. He gazed back at Dean, carefully avoiding Annie’s gaze. He still held Bobby’s hand firmly.
In consternation, he realized that the damn demon was still advancing. Pulling Bobby behind him, still with a firm grip on his little arm, he stood and faced the evil SOB. He spared a glare for his brother. Let’s just kick it’s ass, he says . . . yeah, like Dean’s plans always work.
The boy’s melodic speaking was growing louder, more insistent. He had no idea what language that was. But Bobby wasn’t stumbling over the words at all. He spoke carefully, concisely, like he knew what he was saying. And an interesting thing happened as Bobby’s voice rose, the slightest hint of a tremble in the sweet voice.
The demon stopped its advance, glaring in their direction. Sam’s eyebrows rose as he stared the thing down.
“Shut up! You stupid child! Shut up! You know not what you speak!” The black eyes darted around fearfully, then locked again on the child behind Sam. “How could you possibly know these words? Stop! No innocent, no chosen one, can threaten my power, my existence.”
He moved to step closer, the action seeming difficult for him. With one last glare towards the child, he turned his dark gaze to Sam instead.
“Should I just take out your friends then? Starting with this one here?” He stared at Sam, who gasped at the white pain that exploded in his head. Angry, he glared at the demon, unconsciously pushing back mentally against the evil presence forcing its way inside his head.
“What’s the matter, asshole? Scared of a little boy?” He grinned painfully at the monster in front of him. He felt the comforting presence of his brother beside him, but it was too agonizing for him to even think of turning his head to glance that way. With a gasp, he doubled over as pressure seemed to explode within his head.
“Sam? Sammy? What’re you doin’ to my brother, you son of a bitch?” A pause, and a heavy hand on his shoulder. He was thankful for his brother’s protective presence, but at this point he felt like he was gonna die. He moaned in pain.
He heard his brother gasp. Dean, gasping? He forced himself to look forward through a pain-filled haze and found himself gasping as well. Clenching both fists, he realized that, yes, it had happened.
He had lost hold of Bobby.
And the little man had gone charging straight into the sneering demon’s arms.
Well, shit.
********************************
Annie looked in horror as her brother ran over to that monster. She gasped in pain as she forced her body forward and sitting. She felt only slight relief when he stopped short of leaping into that monster’s arms.
“Bobby! No!” It felt like a scream, but it was more like a loud whisper. A choked one. A steady hand on her shoulder drew her eyebrows together in confusion and she looked up apprehensively. Her eyes widened.
“It is time. Your brother must be protected.” She stared at the shimmering figure now beside her and felt her anger grow.
“You think I don’t want to protect him?” Her voice rose into an almost desperate pitch, drawing the backward glances of Sam and Dean. She met their eyes, looking pointedly to the side, inclining her head towards the glowing figure beside her. Like they could possibly miss it.
“Parts of the whole. You must join together to protect him.” Dean and Sam were exchanging identical looks of shock. Sam, though, was trembling with pain and exhaustion. His eyes were almost glazed over and jaw was clenched in agony. Annie didn’t know what to think . . . what to do . . . and her brother . . . Bobby! “Time is short. Now!”
“You must contain the evil, so that the most ancient words of the innocent one may work. Together, you have the power to do this.” Annie was almost desperate with need now, wanting so badly to help her brother.
She exchanged a look with Sam. His dark eyes held hers for a moment, the pain still glazing his features. By now, she saw he was leaning against his brother heavily. Then she saw Dean’s face. For just a moment, she saw a look of . . . almost pain, desperation even . . . flicker over those eyes.
“You’re forgetting something, angel dude, I don’t have any powers. No psychic freak thing going on in this head here . . .” He tapped his head. “How the hell am I supposed to be able to help them?” She saw his eyes flick to his brother as an arm tightened protectively around Sam’s shoulders. Then his bright eyes roamed over to where Bobby had backed away to within just a few feet of the demon.
She felt intense frustration as her eyes followed his to study her brother. Bobby . . .
“Your strength is what they require now, hunter. Join together and allow them to pull your strength, your raw power. They do not have the endurance to use their powers otherwise.” The angel almost glowed for one second, and then shimmered from existence before their eyes. A soft echo was the only reminder of his presence. “You must protect the little one. He needs you now.”
Whatever Bobby was speaking to the demon had turned his attention full on the little boy now. Sam fell forward as the demon’s torture finally ended. Dean held his sagging body until he could collect himself.
His dark eyes were bright as they turned on Annie a moment later, nodding at her slightly.
“So we have to do what we did before?” She nodded. She shifted, attempting to find enough purchase so that she could force her body upward to standing. She fell back onto her backside instead, groaning in anger and frustration. She punched the floor slightly with a balled fist, willing the tears away.
“Here.” She looked forward to see a hand in her face, and followed the arm to see Dean’s concerned face.
The men flanked her, holding her up. She wrapped a trembling arm around each man’s strong shoulders and they moved as a group towards the demon. And Bobby.
Her practiced sister’s eyes caught the tension in his small body. He was near the demon, who was glaring at him. And while his voice still whispered softly, his was rocking on the balls of his feet, fists clenching and unclenching in obvious agitation.
She wanted so badly to hold him. But something screamed at her to instead stay put. She rested her head against a warm shoulder beside her, drawing a deep breath and trying to fortify herself. She was so tired. And she hurt so bad.
But this was her brother.
And he needed her.
She squared her shoulders slightly, slipping her arms down to her sides. She grasped a hand from each of the men at her side, not daring to look up and make sure they were okay with this.
Her brother needed her.
That was all that mattered.
********************************
Dean glanced over at the small woman to his side, then over her head to where his brother met his gaze steadily. Each nodded slightly to the other.
In one fluid movement, he tightened his grip on the small hand grasped inside his. Then he stepped slightly forward, positioning Annie to the side and behind him. Sam joined in on the other side, effectively buffering the woman from whatever the demon’s backlash might be.
“We need to hurry. Bobby . . . whatever those words are doing . . . the demon is starting to fight through it.”Annie’s voice trembled slightly and Dean squeezed her hand a little harder. “Sam . . . you already know what to do, right?”
He looked over to see his brother’s slight nod and backward glance, small smile.
“I know.”
“Okay, then, Dean . . . you . . . need to . . . listen.” By now the woman was only producing a wheezing whisper, and he could feel her trembling. He glanced over at Sam in alarm.
“Annie, lean into us. You gotta save your strength.” His brother’s soft voice was comforting and commanding at the same time. “Dean, You’re gonna have to open up all your emotions so she can feel them.”
What?
He looked at Sammy. Who shook his head with that stupid grin on his face.
“Bobby needs us to hold the demon so those words can do something. Which I don’t get at all. But, anyway . . . the only way we can do it is if we play off each other’s strengths. This is what Annie and I did before. But, Dean . . . neither one of us is strong enough to do this by ourselves right now. That’s why we need you.” He paused and stared at him, dark eyes probing his. “I think what the . . . angel . . . was saying before is that Annie might be able to tap into you, somehow. So, um . . . you can be the muscle.”
“I”m always the muscles of this outfit, geek boy.” What a load of crap. Emotions. Yeah. He could do this. Had to help Bobby. Just think of what that bastard did to him. And to Sammy. And her. How could . . . doesn’t matter. Anger’s an emotion. Got plenty of that. Freakin’ son of a b**ch. Asshole. What kind of . . .
“That’s good, Dean . . .ahhh . . . okay . . .” She was talking softly, eyes still closed. He dared a glance at her. Then it hit him. Felt like someone was twisting him around inside. He closed his eyes, controlling his breathing. It didn’t hurt, just felt . . . freakin’ weird. Her grip on his hand twisted for a second and then strengthened. “Okay . . .Bobby, no!”
His eyes flew open to see what had caused her voice to cry out in terror like that. Oh no . . .
Bobby, no . . . This could not be happening. They had to do something.
“Do something . . .” He was surprised at how weak he sounded. He wanted to move forward and intervene, but he suddenly couldn’t even hold his own weight up. He was in a daze as he hit the floor, knees collapsing painfully to rest on the floor.
The demon had surged forward and grasped Bobby by the neck, lifting him up with a look of intense concentration on his face. The boy’s voice trembled but continued in a hoarse whisper for a moment longer.
And then he stopped talking, hanging limply from the outstretched arm of the demon, who smiled a slow, dangerous smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Bobby struggled briefly, screaming as the demon turned his head, focusing his twisted gaze on hurting him in some unseen way.
Do something . . .
Anything . . .
His eyes closed as his body started falling forward, blackness pulling him away from the unfolding drama in front of him.
He heard Bobby’s scream echo as the darkness claimed him.
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 protectors rise to the challenge. Will they be too late?
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 21 - "The Protectors"
The time was swiftly approaching.
Great wings quivering in agitation, the Being turned, gazing at the scene before him.
The smallest figure in the room drew his attention, his light strong even though he was covered in a crimson stain. The little one had whispered the ancient words until his body betrayed him, succumbing to stress and blood loss. He was but a mere boy.
The key.
So innocent still.
His protector loomed close, her light shimmering even while tears glistened. Her silent prayers whispered towards him, around him. They pierced him, his fathomless eyes opening wide as his prayers joined hers, mixing to form a symphony of want and need.
Please, my Lord, help the boy. Strengthen him. Be with him.
Her words within: God, cut us a break here . . .
Lord, this little one is so much more than the key. He is innocence and light. He is pure. Save him, Lord.
The desperate whisper of a sister echoed: Bobby has to be okay! Please!
He closed his eyes against the desperation, the fear. Lord!
Jalmari’s eyes snapped open. The answer had come.
It was time.
****************************************
It hurt.
It hurt bad.
He opened his eyes, trying to see past the wet in them.
He blinked. Again.
“Hurts.” He sounded funny, like he was using his quiet voice. But he wasn’t trying to.
“God. Hep’. Hurts.” The wet was all over his eyes again. On his cheeks. His chin.
And then, it was better. He sniffed. The wet was still in his eyes. It didn’t hurt now. But he was still scared.
He tried to be brave.
He said the words.
Andy said to say the special words. And he did. He was here now, not there. There it was scary and the bad thing was being mean. Here was nice. He liked it here. The bad thing wasn’t here.
But . . . he was scared.
Andy hurt. And Annie hurt. And Sammy hurt. He wanted to help them; Wanted to be brave.
He was still scared.
He wiped the wet away. But more came.
It was all too much. And he was scared.
Someone was here. He looked up. Smiled.
It was his special friend.
Now he could be brave again.
********************************
The small one looked up at him with tears flooding his eyes, rolling all over that sweet face. Fear radiated from him. But underneath, Jalmari knew there was confusion and anger swirling.
Oh, Lord, how to help him understand? How to help him fulfill his role now?
His wings flexed as he sat at the little one’s level.
“Jalmari, help!” He was surprised to feel the child’s weight as he flung his small body against his chest. Rocking slightly with the boy, he curled his wings around them both protectively. “Scared.”
The last word was muffled against his chest as he held the little one gently, praying softly for the words to come.
“Bad thing hurt Andy. Annie. Sam-mie. Bad thing, Jalmari.” The quivering voice wasn’t really relaying the facts. No, the angel understood the boy was desperately seeking answers.
The being sighed deeply.
“I know this is hard for you to understand, little one. The evil hurting them is very, very bad.” He looked down to see Bobby’s still-confused face.
“God help? Jalmari? God make bad thing go away . . . make all better.” He nodded his head and Jalmari hung his. If only it were that easy.
“No, little one. God cannot make this go away. He cannot make all the bad things go away.” He was startled by the small hand that suddenly started pounding against his chest. Now both fists were pounding away. He wondered at the emotions crossing the boy’s face, realizing quickly that the boy didn’t understand how to deal with his intense emotions.
“God help! God good . . . thing bad . . . good fight bad . . .Jalmari!” He did not understand. His mind tried to make connections that, in his innocence, could not be made. Jalmari felt the odd sting of tears in his eyes as he fought to help the boy understand.
“Little one. God needs special people like you to help him. To be brave. And to fight for Him. To fight the evil one.” The boy stopped hitting him and stared at his chest, shoulders slumped and eyes still raining tears.
“Bobby scared.” His voice was small. He sat huddled in Jalmari’s lap.
“God is still with you, little one. Right here.” He gently poked the little boy’s chest, above his heart. “He is close to you, child. Always with you.”
The small head rose slowly, tears still dripping. He sniffed, and stood up. His little face was still hard. His hands were fisted at his side, and shoulders were now squared. When he met the angel’s eyes, Jalmari blinked in shock. This little one wasn’t angry any longer. He was furious.
“God big. Fight bad thing easy. Bobby small. Hard fight bad thing. God need help! GOD NEED HELP!” He raised his voice to screaming, rocking slightly and trembling all over. He stomped a foot, accentuating his anger and frustration. Jalmari knew the boy did not understand why, if He could, God did not fix it.
He wrapped strong arms around the trembling child. Pulling him close as he rose to his knees. His wings vibrated with emotion behind him.
“Bobby. God wants you to help your sister, to help the pastor and Sam. More, little one, God needs you to help all of us. Help God.”
He had assumed correctly. At the mention of helping his sister and their friends, he was again open. Amazingly, his furious expression had abated, leaving a scared, tired boy behind.
“But Bobby small. God big. How Bobby help?”
“Yes. You are small, child. But you are also very special. You can speak the special words, and the most ancient of words. You are very special, little one.” He saw the bewilderment in the child’s face. Such innocence. He drew a deep breath.
“Bobby like special words.” He leaned forward and Jalmari grasped his hand, drawing it close to his own chest.
“It is more than that, child. There is power behind the words. But, Bobby . . .” Here he paused and met the little one’s deep eyes. Bottomless. Such intensity. “When you say the words, they become more. They have great power.”
The eyes across from his didn’t blink. He grasped the hand he held more tightly. He must understand. It was time.
He had helped him the one other time he had called down the most ancient of words - after the yellow-eyed demon had wrought such devastation before. He had been weaving the words into his mind ever since, knowing that the little one might be called to use them once again.
All of heaven waited.
What this simple, innocent child could never truly understand, was that the most ancient of languages was the language of heaven, of angels. Only a true innocent, exceptionally pure, a chosen one, could use those words and pull heaven’s power into use on earth.
Heaven was waiting.
The faith of a child, this chosen one, was about to be put to the ultimate test.
“The most ancient of words are very special words. More special, even, than the ones you call your special words. They are very old, in fact . . .” He again looked into the bottomless brown eyes. Drawing a deep breath, he spoke again, waiting for Bobby to understand. “They are as old as the angels of heaven.”
The boy’s eyes widened and a small smile played around the corners of his mouth. He understood! Jalmari had spoken his last sentence in the ancient tongue, willing the boy to understand. And he did. As he had the Latin before, and the Aramaic after that.
“Why not Latin, Jalmari? Why the angel words?” A smile rose on the angel’s face at the boy’s name for the ancient language. And then, the boy showed why he was chosen. Why he was special. He lapsed into the ancient words, flawlessly questioning him further. “What words can hurt the evil?”
In the most ancient of languages, he was already fluent, already seamlessly able to connect his words. And he had made the connections needed quickly. Again, Jalmari’s heart swelled for this small child. This special one.
“The evil there is very old, and very strong. He cannot be swayed with Latin. It will hurt him, but it will not send him back where he belongs. In hell.” He finished his statement with a hard tone, considering the evil. As for the child’s other question. “You will know the words to use when the time is upon you. The words will talk, they will come forth.”
What the child could not possibly understand, was that he was indeed chosen.
He was the key. If evil killed him and turned the key, they would have full access to the veil. The final war would be upon them all.
But, with Bobby on the side of the angels, heaven itself would close the veil in this place, and the evil being would be lost within the portal.
Heaven waited for the chosen one to act now.
And the other parts of the whole, the sister and the hunters, their roles would allow the plan to unfold. Already, they had merged to protect the special child.
And the holy one. He had acted to save evil from turning the key. His role would not be forgotten.
Heaven waited.
With a soft hug and a whispered prayer, he held the small hand until he could no longer feel it. The boy was back.
The time had come.
Heaven watched.
************************************
Sam squared his shoulders, finding small comfort in the warmth of Dean’s shoulder against his arm. His hands fisted at his sides. His chest ached. He pushed the pain away. His whole body shook. He took a deep breath, steadying himself and pushing the weakness away. They didn’t have time for that.
This demon was powerful.
Too powerful, he suddenly realized.
“Dean. I’m not sure what we should do . . . this thing is powerful. It’s really old.” He was whispering to his brother while still steadily watching the evil being across the room. It advanced.
“Exorcism?”
“It might weaken it, hurt it, but I don’t think it’s enough.”
“What, the force tingling there, young Skywalker?”
“I guess. I can just feel the difference. This thing is powerful. Earlier Bobby was chanting in Latin and it hurt him, but not much. And I did part of the exorcism too. Nothing. Except piss it off.” He risked a glance back over his shoulder at Annie and Bobby. Swallowed.
“How about we just kick its ass and worry about sending it back to hell afterwards?” Dean pulled two bottles out of his stuffed jacket pockets, handing one to Sam. “Try the ritual again while we’re giving it a holy shower.”
As the demon within Larkin approached, he almost swaggered in his borrowed body.
Dean stepped forward. Sam unscrewed the cap on his water and started softly chanting the ritual, from the beginning of his and Bobby’s remembered routine. He watched as a spray of water left Dean’s hand.
A little steam escaped where it hit Larkin’s chest, but the demon still edged closer.
“You think holy water can work on me, human?” His cold dark eyes studied them and he paused in his approach. He winced, but then stepped closer. “Just as those words you use cannot work on one like me.”
He glared at the brothers as he inched closer. With a sweep of his arm, he divided them, sending Dean flying one way, Sam the other.
Sam was able to continue chanting, seeing that it had at least a slight effect on the thing. But he hit the floor hard, and scrambled to restart his soft chanting as he rose shakily to stand. He glanced over to see Dean scrambling to his feet.
The demon was no longer paying them attention, focused instead on the prize in front of him.
Bobby. Laying in Annie’s arms.
“You gotta plan B?” Sam shook his head, still softly chanting, as he rushed over to stand beside the evil creature. Dean stared at him from the other side. They looked at each other steadily, then down to the bottles in each others’ hands.
They both reached the conclusion at the same time.
Water flew from both bottles to pelt the demon. Steam rose in a satisfying hissing roar. But Larkin’s head just shook, water flying in droplets from his drenched person. The brothers watched as he tensed, Sam’s voice rising in a desperate attempt to keep the creature at bay.
“You fools! I cannot be affected by such things.” He glared at them, black eyes shimmering in rage. From one side to the other, he stared at the brothers.
But then a shocked expression came over his face and he stared down at his feet. He was sliding backwards inch by inch. His eyes flew in front of him to meet the steady, pinched features of Annie. She grinned. Then furrowed her eyebrows in deep concentration, pushing her head forward in a sharp motion.
The demon flew across the room, where he had landed in a heap.
“Whoa, Annie. That was awesome!” Dean was looking over at the demon with a bit of awe on his face. But Sam was studying the girl at his feet. He crouched down.
“You okay?” He reached a hand over to grasp her free one. She was pale, trembling. And barely conscious. He glanced toward his brother. “Dean!”
The other man turned at Sam’s panicked voice, crouching to study Annie. He glanced at Sam, then back at the girl.
“She was already hurt pretty bad. That bastard . . .” He let his words trail away. Her bruised, trembling form spoke volumes. That, and the sheet wrapped around her. Dean reached a hand out to feel for her pulse, gently rotating her head so he could place his fingers on her neck. Sam grabbed Bobby’s still form, gently pulling the boy close to him as he stared down at the sister.
“Her pulse is weak, but it’s there. Don’t think she can take much more, though.” His gaze hardened, but his touch was gentle as he pulled her to rest against his chest for a moment. He shrugged his jacket off, pulling a couple items awkwardly from the pockets there first. He placed it around her shoulders. He looked behind her to see the bunched up blanket she had used before. He balled it up and placed it on the floor, then gently lay her to rest on it.
Her eyes opened with a flutter and she looked up into Dean’s face, then over at Sam, her eyes finally resting on her brother. She opened and closed her mouth, and a tear escaped to roll down her cheek.
“Don’t worry. We’ve got him.” Sam tried to reassure her with a soft voice, and she nodded, but her face was still scrunched in worry. As if on cue, the soft form in his arms started wiggling, pushing against his chest. He winced as the small hand connected with his open wound there.
“Time.” It was a gruff whisper, and Sam twisted down to look at the small face. The eyes that pinned him weren’t the ones he was used to, though. What the . . .
“Dean?” He looked down into the eyes again, and they returned the gaze, unblinking. “Uh . . . Bobby? Kiddo? You okay?”
With effort, he tore his eyes away to meet his brother’s.
“What is it? Bobby?” Annie, alarmed now, was trying to sit up. Dean moved to help her, gently moving her into sitting. They both stared intently at the boy in Sam’s arms. It was Bobby. But . . .
“Christo!” Sam whispered it into the boy’s face. No response. His shoulders sagged in relief. But what the . . .
Blinking now, the eyes stared back into Sam’s. The head turned to gaze at Annie. Dean.
“Time.” Bobby’s voice, but it was gruff, almost . . . pleading. The eyes. Again, they pinned Sam, who swallowed and actually flinched from the intensity. Bobby’s brown eyes stared back at him, but it was almost like they glowed. Like they never ended. He could get lost in those deep eyes. The intensity was unnerving. And they were almost vibrating with a glow that was not natural. But, if he wasn’t possessed . . . then what?
They all watched, oblivious to the now enraged advance of the deadly demon. Except Bobby.
The boy’s head twisted sharply, pinning the demon with a stare.
“Time. Help now.” Clearly spoken, but still said in a gruff voice. With a look of extreme concentration, he twisted his small form away from Sam’s hold and stood gracefully, starting to speak again. Kind of. It sounded like he was talking. But it was no language they had ever heard before. Sam grabbed the small hand in front of him, accepted the shocking gaze as the boy turned it his way.
“Bobby?”
Those eyes again. He swallowed thickly. This wasn’t Bobby. At least not the Bobby he knew. He gazed back at Dean, carefully avoiding Annie’s gaze. He still held Bobby’s hand firmly.
In consternation, he realized that the damn demon was still advancing. Pulling Bobby behind him, still with a firm grip on his little arm, he stood and faced the evil SOB. He spared a glare for his brother. Let’s just kick it’s ass, he says . . . yeah, like Dean’s plans always work.
The boy’s melodic speaking was growing louder, more insistent. He had no idea what language that was. But Bobby wasn’t stumbling over the words at all. He spoke carefully, concisely, like he knew what he was saying. And an interesting thing happened as Bobby’s voice rose, the slightest hint of a tremble in the sweet voice.
The demon stopped its advance, glaring in their direction. Sam’s eyebrows rose as he stared the thing down.
“Shut up! You stupid child! Shut up! You know not what you speak!” The black eyes darted around fearfully, then locked again on the child behind Sam. “How could you possibly know these words? Stop! No innocent, no chosen one, can threaten my power, my existence.”
He moved to step closer, the action seeming difficult for him. With one last glare towards the child, he turned his dark gaze to Sam instead.
“Should I just take out your friends then? Starting with this one here?” He stared at Sam, who gasped at the white pain that exploded in his head. Angry, he glared at the demon, unconsciously pushing back mentally against the evil presence forcing its way inside his head.
“What’s the matter, asshole? Scared of a little boy?” He grinned painfully at the monster in front of him. He felt the comforting presence of his brother beside him, but it was too agonizing for him to even think of turning his head to glance that way. With a gasp, he doubled over as pressure seemed to explode within his head.
“Sam? Sammy? What’re you doin’ to my brother, you son of a bitch?” A pause, and a heavy hand on his shoulder. He was thankful for his brother’s protective presence, but at this point he felt like he was gonna die. He moaned in pain.
He heard his brother gasp. Dean, gasping? He forced himself to look forward through a pain-filled haze and found himself gasping as well. Clenching both fists, he realized that, yes, it had happened.
He had lost hold of Bobby.
And the little man had gone charging straight into the sneering demon’s arms.
Well, shit.
********************************
Annie looked in horror as her brother ran over to that monster. She gasped in pain as she forced her body forward and sitting. She felt only slight relief when he stopped short of leaping into that monster’s arms.
“Bobby! No!” It felt like a scream, but it was more like a loud whisper. A choked one. A steady hand on her shoulder drew her eyebrows together in confusion and she looked up apprehensively. Her eyes widened.
“It is time. Your brother must be protected.” She stared at the shimmering figure now beside her and felt her anger grow.
“You think I don’t want to protect him?” Her voice rose into an almost desperate pitch, drawing the backward glances of Sam and Dean. She met their eyes, looking pointedly to the side, inclining her head towards the glowing figure beside her. Like they could possibly miss it.
“Parts of the whole. You must join together to protect him.” Dean and Sam were exchanging identical looks of shock. Sam, though, was trembling with pain and exhaustion. His eyes were almost glazed over and jaw was clenched in agony. Annie didn’t know what to think . . . what to do . . . and her brother . . . Bobby! “Time is short. Now!”
“You must contain the evil, so that the most ancient words of the innocent one may work. Together, you have the power to do this.” Annie was almost desperate with need now, wanting so badly to help her brother.
She exchanged a look with Sam. His dark eyes held hers for a moment, the pain still glazing his features. By now, she saw he was leaning against his brother heavily. Then she saw Dean’s face. For just a moment, she saw a look of . . . almost pain, desperation even . . . flicker over those eyes.
“You’re forgetting something, angel dude, I don’t have any powers. No psychic freak thing going on in this head here . . .” He tapped his head. “How the hell am I supposed to be able to help them?” She saw his eyes flick to his brother as an arm tightened protectively around Sam’s shoulders. Then his bright eyes roamed over to where Bobby had backed away to within just a few feet of the demon.
She felt intense frustration as her eyes followed his to study her brother. Bobby . . .
“Your strength is what they require now, hunter. Join together and allow them to pull your strength, your raw power. They do not have the endurance to use their powers otherwise.” The angel almost glowed for one second, and then shimmered from existence before their eyes. A soft echo was the only reminder of his presence. “You must protect the little one. He needs you now.”
Whatever Bobby was speaking to the demon had turned his attention full on the little boy now. Sam fell forward as the demon’s torture finally ended. Dean held his sagging body until he could collect himself.
His dark eyes were bright as they turned on Annie a moment later, nodding at her slightly.
“So we have to do what we did before?” She nodded. She shifted, attempting to find enough purchase so that she could force her body upward to standing. She fell back onto her backside instead, groaning in anger and frustration. She punched the floor slightly with a balled fist, willing the tears away.
“Here.” She looked forward to see a hand in her face, and followed the arm to see Dean’s concerned face.
The men flanked her, holding her up. She wrapped a trembling arm around each man’s strong shoulders and they moved as a group towards the demon. And Bobby.
Her practiced sister’s eyes caught the tension in his small body. He was near the demon, who was glaring at him. And while his voice still whispered softly, his was rocking on the balls of his feet, fists clenching and unclenching in obvious agitation.
She wanted so badly to hold him. But something screamed at her to instead stay put. She rested her head against a warm shoulder beside her, drawing a deep breath and trying to fortify herself. She was so tired. And she hurt so bad.
But this was her brother.
And he needed her.
She squared her shoulders slightly, slipping her arms down to her sides. She grasped a hand from each of the men at her side, not daring to look up and make sure they were okay with this.
Her brother needed her.
That was all that mattered.
********************************
Dean glanced over at the small woman to his side, then over her head to where his brother met his gaze steadily. Each nodded slightly to the other.
In one fluid movement, he tightened his grip on the small hand grasped inside his. Then he stepped slightly forward, positioning Annie to the side and behind him. Sam joined in on the other side, effectively buffering the woman from whatever the demon’s backlash might be.
“We need to hurry. Bobby . . . whatever those words are doing . . . the demon is starting to fight through it.”Annie’s voice trembled slightly and Dean squeezed her hand a little harder. “Sam . . . you already know what to do, right?”
He looked over to see his brother’s slight nod and backward glance, small smile.
“I know.”
“Okay, then, Dean . . . you . . . need to . . . listen.” By now the woman was only producing a wheezing whisper, and he could feel her trembling. He glanced over at Sam in alarm.
“Annie, lean into us. You gotta save your strength.” His brother’s soft voice was comforting and commanding at the same time. “Dean, You’re gonna have to open up all your emotions so she can feel them.”
What?
He looked at Sammy. Who shook his head with that stupid grin on his face.
“Bobby needs us to hold the demon so those words can do something. Which I don’t get at all. But, anyway . . . the only way we can do it is if we play off each other’s strengths. This is what Annie and I did before. But, Dean . . . neither one of us is strong enough to do this by ourselves right now. That’s why we need you.” He paused and stared at him, dark eyes probing his. “I think what the . . . angel . . . was saying before is that Annie might be able to tap into you, somehow. So, um . . . you can be the muscle.”
“I”m always the muscles of this outfit, geek boy.” What a load of crap. Emotions. Yeah. He could do this. Had to help Bobby. Just think of what that bastard did to him. And to Sammy. And her. How could . . . doesn’t matter. Anger’s an emotion. Got plenty of that. Freakin’ son of a b**ch. Asshole. What kind of . . .
“That’s good, Dean . . .ahhh . . . okay . . .” She was talking softly, eyes still closed. He dared a glance at her. Then it hit him. Felt like someone was twisting him around inside. He closed his eyes, controlling his breathing. It didn’t hurt, just felt . . . freakin’ weird. Her grip on his hand twisted for a second and then strengthened. “Okay . . .Bobby, no!”
His eyes flew open to see what had caused her voice to cry out in terror like that. Oh no . . .
Bobby, no . . . This could not be happening. They had to do something.
“Do something . . .” He was surprised at how weak he sounded. He wanted to move forward and intervene, but he suddenly couldn’t even hold his own weight up. He was in a daze as he hit the floor, knees collapsing painfully to rest on the floor.
The demon had surged forward and grasped Bobby by the neck, lifting him up with a look of intense concentration on his face. The boy’s voice trembled but continued in a hoarse whisper for a moment longer.
And then he stopped talking, hanging limply from the outstretched arm of the demon, who smiled a slow, dangerous smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
Bobby struggled briefly, screaming as the demon turned his head, focusing his twisted gaze on hurting him in some unseen way.
Do something . . .
Anything . . .
His eyes closed as his body started falling forward, blackness pulling him away from the unfolding drama in front of him.
He heard Bobby’s scream echo as the darkness claimed him.