Ancient Words: Ch. 22/?, "The Key", PG13, Sam, Dean, OC's
Title/Chapter: Ancient Words - Ch. 22 “The Key”
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 Key wages into battle.
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.
Ch. 22 “The Key”
The mean thing, the bad thing, had him now.
His hand was around his throat and it hurt.
But he was saying the words, and he liked saying the words. They felt good on the inside and when he said them they almost tickled coming out. They were good. Angel words. He liked them.
Now, it was hard to say them. It hurt so bad. He kicked. Tried to hit. But the mean thing was holding him up high. It hurt. And he couldn’t make him let go. He was still trying to whisper the words. But it was so hard. And his head felt like it was getting bigger. It hurt bad. His neck hurt bad. Everything looked funny now.
Hard to see.
Hard to breath.
So hard.
It hurt.
He felt heavy, almost like he was sleeping. Sleep would be good. Right now he was so tired. Sleep might be nice. But no! He opened his eyes. They were hard to open. He looked at the mean thing.
He had to fight. He had to try to say the words. Or the bad thing might hurt Annie, or Sammy.
He hurt Andy already.
That wasn’t nice. It wasn’t nice!
The bad thing was mean!
He screamed. Wanted to tell that bad thing how mean it was. ‘Cause it was really mean. So he screamed. But the bad thing just looked at him. Looked at him real funny. And then it hurt so bad. And his head hurt so bad. And everything hurt so bad.
It hurt.
Annie.
He wanted Annie.
Or Sammy.
He screamed.
He didn’t care anymore. The special words were swimming in his head. But it hurt so bad. He couldn’t say them. It hurt so bad. God! Make it stop hurting. Please!
He felt heavy again. And sleep was such a nice idea. He could sleep now. His eyes felt heavy and it hurt so bad.
“No, little one. You must fight. Be brave. Think the words. Feel them.” Jalmari? “Soon, child, soon. The words are inside and you must speak them to release the power. Little one. Think the words and say them. Soon this evil won’t be able to hurt you.” Jalmari? He felt the heavy hand on his forehead and opened his eyes. His special friend really was there. He liked the hand on his forehead. It was nice.
He had to be brave.
Had to help Annie and Sammy.
Had to say the words.
But when he tried to say the words, he remembered that it was hard to breath.
He looked at his friend, and Jalmari smiled at Bobby.
“It is okay, little one. It is hard to breath, but you can breathe. Just speak the words. I am here. I will help you.” His friend moved his hand and put it over the bad thing’s hand. He couldn’t see, though. But he could feel it.
He could breathe easy now. Not real easy, but a little.
He started saying the words again. They felt warm and sweet as he said them. Tingled. He liked the words. They were nice. Angel words. Special, like his angel friend.
He said the words.
He kind of thought the words said themselves, though. ‘Cause he didn’t think about what he was saying. He just knew what to say. He just said the words. And he felt the words. They made him feel good. Even though he hurt bad. The words made him feel warm. And good.
The words were there, now.
The angel words were all that mattered.
*******************************
Dean had gone down hard, and if it weren’t for his reflexes being in overdrive, Sam wouldn’t have been able to catch him. As it was, he was just in time to ease him to the floor. He looked up at Annie.
“Should it have drained him that badly?” But she wasn’t looking at him, paying attention to them at all. Her attention was focused straight ahead on her brother. He twisted his head back around, easing Dean to the floor as he did so. He patted his brother’s shoulder gently a couple times, lingering a second before standing up carefully to stand with Annie. Bobby’s screams had unnerved him, but seeing Dean unconscious had scared him silly. He just hoped he and Annie could do this.
He focused on Bobby, hanging limply from Larkin’s long arm. He knew the boy had stopped speaking for a moment, and the demon had pounced. The first time Bobby had screamed, it had sounded angry. It was all Bobby, frustrated and furious. But the second time he screamed, after the demon did something unseen to hurt him, the scream pierced him straight through the heart.
Because that scream did NOT sound anything like Bobby at all. It sounded like a wounded child, screaming in pain and desperation. He noticed something now, though, looking at Bobby. He was limp, but he kept flexing and un-flexing his hands. So, he was still conscious. He eased Annie over a little, keeping his eye on Bobby. He saw the boy’s mouth moving and had to stop himself from cheering the boy on. Now they just had to help him.
“He’s going to kill him!” Annie’s desperate whisper interrupted his planning. Her hand was resting on his arm, and he could feel her trembling as it echoed into his forearm.
“No. We’re going to stop it. Come on, Annie.” He grabbed her hand and pulled gently, getting them into position several feet back and to the side of where the demon was still holding the little boy’s limp form. Moving on old instincts, he stepped slightly in front of her, sheltering her body while still affording her a view of her brother. He squeezed her hand forcefully and turned to face her.
“Gotta get this show on the road. Look at him, Annie. He’s still fighting. His lips are still moving, he’s still there.” He pulled her hand forward a little, still squeezing, and shook it gently. “Time to do our JEDI thing.”
He turned back toward the odd couple already engaged in battle and murmured under his breath. “And may the freakin’ force be with us.”
He opened himself up, letting the emotions of the last several days wash over him. He could feel the rage take hold of him as he remembered how badly Annie had been abused, when he thought about what Bobby was being forced to endure. They had to do this. They had to stop this before everything went to hell. Worse than it already was.
Slipping down the slope of emotional backlash, he fell hard as he remembered the dark fear of losing his brother. The relief of seeing his brother in the flesh and blood was almost overwhelming. Tears burned in his eyes at the backlash of intense emotions. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to keep the emotions open. What he really wanted to do was lock all the emotions away and try to forget about them.
“Okay, Sam. Hold on . . .” Her small voice trailed off after she signaled him that it was working. Then he felt the connection and looked back to find her eyes closed and face flushed in the effort to complete their task. And then, with a calm flash of recognition, he felt her, could feel her powers mingling with his own almost unrecognized ones.
He gripped her hand harder. His breathing was strained for just a moment, because this was stronger, more forceful, than before. More power, he could feel it and knew Annie could too.
Her eyes opened and he met the deep brown with an unblinking gaze as they took a deep breath in unison.
Despite his subtle attempts to shield her, Annie was neatly stepping beside him.
“Okay, let’s do this.” Her voice was a low growl and sounded nothing like her. His eyes narrowed and hand tightened on hers. Too much was at stake. They stepped forward, both tense. And then, the demon noticed them. It had all taken place within the space of a few minutes. But it seemed like so much longer. Too long. “Let my brother go.”
Again, the low growl sounded nothing like Annie. The demon made eye contact with Annie, laughing as he did so. Sam glared at the thing.
“You heard her, let him go.” He knew before it happened. Could almost read the intent within the evil mind. But the damn demon acted so fast they couldn’t do anything about it.
“Whatever you say. I can come back to him.” With ease that only supernatural strength could impart, he tossed Bobby across the room like a rag doll. His small body hit the wall with a sickening thud and Sam felt his rage build to a crescendo. Annie gasped, her face paling in his peripheral vision. He let go of her hand and she moved towards her brother, then stopped suddenly, her head spinning around as she desperately met Sam’s eyes. Then she turned her furious gaze at the demon.
“Let me go!” He realized then, she was stuck, unable to move her legs. And she was furious.
With a shake of her head, brown hair fell forward, forming a curtain around her face. Her fists clenched in a fierce show of determination, she brought her head back, stared at the demon with a dangerous grin, and then jerked her head to the side. Larkin’s body flew several feet back, landing in a still moving heap on the floor. Annie turned once more towards her brother, while Sam turned his attention on the demon in Larkin’s skin, his fists clenched unthinkingly as he advanced.
Annie’s assault resulted in a brief reprieve, but the demon rose quickly, anger clouding his soulless eyes as he turned to step after the girl. But now it was Sam’s turn - and his rage had built to a boiling point.
He stepped forward, curving his own lips up into a feral grin, and stared at the demon, who now looked from Sam to Annie as if undecided who to deal with first. He finally turned to face Sam. Sam concentrated, trying to draw upon the power he knew resided in him. At first it seemed the harder he tried, the further from his grasp it was.
Then, he felt the gentle whisper of something. He followed the tenuous line within his mind, reeling it in. He realized this was Annie’s doing. Somehow, her mind laid a trail, subconsciously realizing he wasn’t able to draw upon this power on demand.
A moment later, his anger was boiling, and the demon was just staring at him with a sneer on his borrowed face.
He pushed, hard, within his mind.
The force seemed to radiate from him, an undetectable wave of psychic energy. It traveled towards the demon instantly, punching him with a force that threw its body into the air. But he landed on his feet, with a look that said “bring it on”
So Sam stepped forward with infinite concentration and drew from the reserve within his mind again. But this time, he used his head. Trading punches with a demon wouldn’t get them far. It was time to go for the jugular. He could see Annie, surprisingly, leading an obviously exhausted Bobby towards him.
Studying the child, he saw the little mouth still moving. Still saying the words. Even though he was hurt. Badly. How he was standing, walking, speaking, was a mystery to Sam. He was just glad he was. Because that little guy was special for some damn reason, and they needed him to get this done.
He threw up a wall without even thinking about it, trapping the demon where it stood. He could feel himself growing weaker from the effort. The demon played his weakness, lobbing mental punches against him, wearing him down. His body felt heavy. So heavy. Then, a small measure of strength returned. He looked down to see Annie’s small hand resting in his once more. He lifted his head slightly to meet her gaze. Endless brown eyes stared him down, communicating what words could not.
This was their last hurrah.
She turned her gaze on her brother, and Sam did the same. Together, they worked to keep the demon contained within a psychic prison. They fell to their knees at almost the same time, just moments later. Drained, Sam squeezed her hand, willing strength enough between the two of them to continue. His sight was starting to blur. Movement from his peripheral vision caused him to try and focus.
Too much at once.
He couldn’t keep up.
Annie’s trembling form leaned, or fell, into him and he swayed with the effort to stay upright.
Suddenly he did focus, though: Straight ahead, on the small child daring to step into battle with the demon. He watched, mesmerized and terrified, as the child stepped closer and closer to the thing. Its black eyes followed the movement.
Somehow, he and Annie were still keeping the thing trapped. But he knew it wouldn’t last long. His body was starting to shake with the effort. Still he watched the little boy. His vision seemed to give out just as the room started to get brighter.
He couldn’t focus on Bobby any longer, instead he was just trying to stay conscious. His eyes closed involuntarily as his body continued to shake.
He couldn’t maintain the psychic prison any longer. But somehow, he wasn’t surprised the demon still seemed unable to move.
Somehow, Bobby was doing it now. Somehow that little boy was rising to the challenge. He could feel the Being behind him tense, hand still heavy on his shoulder, and refocused on Bobby’s almost glowing form.
Somehow, now, the boy wasn’t just rising to the challenge.
No. The little man was literally rising.
Sam’s eyes widened as his vision clicked into sharp focus. Because the little guy was rising, alright, right into the air.
**************************
The angel words were all around him.
He knew he was using the words to tell the demon to go far away. He didn’t know how he knew the mean thing was something called a demon. But he knew lots of things now.
He knew what words to say. He knew those words would hurt the bad thing. And he knew that the words were a lot more special than the Latin. He liked saying the Latin words, but they never made him feel like this.
He kept saying the words.
They were all around him and it felt safe.
The words made him feel like he felt when he was in a warm blankie and Annie was rubbing his back. Like he was so warm and safe he didn’t ever want to get up. Only he wasn’t lying down. And his blankie wasn’t here.
But the words were here. And they wrapped around him.
And now he felt so nice he hugged his arms around his middle, keeping the words close. He smiled, even when he looked at the bad thing. Because the bad thing didn’t matter anymore.
He didn’t hurt anymore. The owies were still there, but he didn’t feel them right now.
He only felt the words.
Nothing else mattered.
Only the words.
The angel words.
*******************************
Awareness came with a flash and Dean sat up carefully, clenching his eyes shut against the jarring brightness.
Easing his eyes open a moment later he struggled to see what was happening. Something felt weird. Running a shaky hand through gritty hair, he studied the room.
He blinked in disbelief at the sight before him.
No way.
Larkin’s body was on its knees, and Bobby was . . . was . . . Bobby was levitating several feet in the air. What the . . .
He struggled to make sense of what his eyes were seeing. But then the rest of the room crashed into him, drowning out his senses in an overwhelming wave of awareness.
It hummed.
The room hummed with energy. He felt it wrap around him like a soft blanket. The words Bobby spoke were everywhere at once. He heard them. Knew that Bobby was speaking them. But it’s almost like he felt them too. He shook his head. Woah.
He pried himself from the scene, from the feelings, and looked for his brother.
He was on the floor a few feet behind Bobby. His eyes narrowed. Annie was beside him and both of them lay on the floor, a tangled lump of unconscious bodies.
He stood carefully, reeling from the energy vibrating within the air. He waded through it, slowly making his way towards his brother. He wasn’t sure what was up with all this freaky energy in the air, but he wanted to make sure Sammy was okay.
Besides, it looked like Bobby had the bad guy covered.
It didn’t hit him until he started walking towards them. The brightness that had roused him was emanating from a spot in front of Bobby. He had to shield his eyes as he walked around the battle being waged there.
Finally dropping to his knees beside his brother and Annie, he felt for pulses first. First Sam’s, then Annie’s. Both were strong and steady. He released the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.
“Sam_ Sammy, come on man. Wake up_ No sleeping on the job_” He was rewarded when the dark eyes opened slowly, blinking, before meeting his. He smiled a half-smile, half-grimace, glancing at Annie’s prone form on top of his side.
Dean understood the problem and reacted before Sam could say anything. He moved over to the other side of the pair, pulling Annie gently into his arms so that Sam could back himself into sitting.
The change in position must have roused her, because a moment later she was struggling weakly to push him back. A choked sob warred with the trembling in her body and Dean could tell she was about to the end of her rope.
“Annie, hey . . . it’s okay. It’s just me . . . hey . . .” She stilled, raising her eyes to meet his and then averting her gaze quickly. But not before he could glimpse the tears fighting for release.
Her eyes found her brother quickly and widened, the brightness of the room causing her dark eyes to glow. He turned back to study the sight, feeling absolutely powerless in the face of it all. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam’s mouth fall open.
“What is he doing?” Sam was obviously trying to make sense of what he was seeing. And really, Dean didn’t know any more than his little brother. But a thought occurred to him and with a half grin he turned to Sam.
“Well, the size is right, and the force is strong. I’d say Yoda decided to join the party.” He smirked, then a serious thought forced its way into his head. “Why is it I’m the only one that doesn’t have the force, huh? I’m like Han Solo without the cool ship.”
“Yeah, but you got the cool car, Dean. And you’ve saved my ass more than Han saved Luke and Lea combined.”
Sammy did have a point. Besides, he was cooler. He met his brother’s eyes and for just a second the weirdness of everything going on around them slipped away. Man, it was good to see his sorry ass. He felt the prick of something in his eye and blinked it away.
“So, um, what do we do now?” Sam had turned back to study the confrontation being waged between the little guy and the demon. Dean didn’t have any bright ideas at this point. And frankly, his pride was a little beat up. It wasn’t often a child could kick demon ass better than him.
“Watch?” Sounded like a plan to him.
Dean looked down at the woman barely moving in his arms. Her eyes were glued on her brother but her lips were moving in what had to be a silent prayer. She was so limp against him, he was sure she wouldn’t be able to sit up on her own, so he stayed put.
The energy within the room grew to a fever pitch, trapping them all within its thick web. If they had wanted to move, they couldn’t now. Limbs too heavy to push against the force, the power, of the words, all they could do was watch.
And as they watched, the room seemed to erupt in a frenzy of bright energy, blinding them with its brilliance.
*******************************
The power within the room was complete. Jalmari watched in satisfaction, joining his brothers as they circled around the chosen one and the fallen one within evil human skin.
The brilliant glare of countless angels joining together temporarily washed the room in a blinding white glow of divinity. Wings rose in unison, creating a canopy of rippling protection.
The ancient words called to them all. Their heavenly powers joined as one, coursing through the atmosphere to center within the chosen one. There the white-hot power lingered in the small body, finally bursting forth in a brilliant strike. The words wove over and around the essence of divinity, the raw power of heaven.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still.
The small body of the chosen one rose magnificently, riding on a wave of power to its rightful place above the corrupt fallen one. With finality, the small one uttered the last words of the language of old.
With the words as guide, the essence of heaven shot through the possessed body, pushing the dark soul of the fallen one out of his host. Now in his true form, he gazed upon those who judged with disdain and fury.
Striking out in a dark cloud of black fury, the fallen one ripped through the chosen one as he descended to hell.
The guardians raised their heads and as one, prayed for the chosen one..
A lone guardian left his brethren as he leapt toward his small friend. The power of the ancient language left the small body with a soft sigh after the sudden assault, leaving the limp body to fall.
The boy instead found himself caught up within the safety of Jalmari’s arms. The angel’s wings unfurled in a stunning display of raw power, carrying both his strong form and the small one up into the air. He watched as his brethren exited this realm, standing watch in reverent silence from their own realm as he glided to land softly on the floor. His wings trailed behind him as he knelt with the small, broken body in his arms. Tears fell from his endless eyes as he whispered his own broken prayer to his father in heaven.
Angels did not often cry in despair.
But Jalmari left his divinity behind in a broken sob of grief.
His prayer mixed between the soft sobs and found an audience in heaven.
His eyes rose to await the answer.
He so did not want the little one sacrificed. Even if his sacrifice meant that this battle had been won.