The Man in the Dark Chapter 5/10
Sorry this took so long! I went out and bought a new computer game and have been playing it like an addict. :) This chapter's more plotty stuff. NEXT chapter will be action, action, action. So don't be discouraged. :)
Spoilers: If Missouri means nothing to you.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The boys find out what they're dealing with.
Chapter Five
There was a part of him that acknowledged that he should have figured it out by now. Should have known it: in this job, this hunt, there have always been, and will always be, more questions than there are answers. And Dean knew, in every part of him; inside, outside, heart, soul, mind, hell even his fucking pinky finger, he knew that by now, after all these years of chasing the paranormal, fighting the supernatural, facing the preternatural, he should come to expect that things will never be as easy as he thought. No matter how hard he thought a job would be, it would be ten times harder. Without fail. He had enough scars to prove it. They all had enough scars to prove it. They were a scarred family, it was a miracle they were still all so damn good looking. Well, him anyways. Sammy could use a haircut. And John? Dean supposed the man would clean up nice. But when would that ever happen? His father hadn’t cleaned up in years.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice broke through the wandering thoughts and as he blinked back to awareness, he realized he’d been caught in the middle of a stare down with Cecily. How could anyone win against those eyes? They were deep and older than they should have been. And there was a darkness there that Dean couldn’t explain; because Cecily had the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Without realizing it, Dean felt himself being drawn back into those eyes. Something wasn’t right. They were Cecily’s eyes, wide and beautiful, but there was something else watching. Something that had reached out through the kid’s pupils and drew Dean in like a siren. He couldn’t resist. “Dean,” Sam said again, this time a bit snappish.
And whatever had been in those eyes was gone now and only a little girl stared back at him, scared, frightened, and begging for his help. Dean could practically feel the tension buzzing off his brother. Sam had a hand on his shoulder and he figured half of that tension was there because he hadn’t swatted him away. Well, there would be no point in shoving him off now. Besides, he felt like he needed the hand to be there, just in case whatever had been inside Cecily’s eyes decided to try and drag him in again.
“I think you should leave now,” came Carol’s voice. Dean forgot she was there and jolted a bit, feeling Sam’s hand tighten on his shoulder. Dammit, why was he so jumpy?
“No!” Cecily screamed, her eyes looking panicked. Carol instantly sobered and tried to calm her daughter, but Cecily just started crying. “No, Mommy, don’t make him leave! He’s the hero. Please, Mommy, please!” She sounded hysterical by now and Dean couldn’t help but feel like somehow this was his fault. “He’ll make Jeremy’s circles go away.” Carol looked stunned by the comment. Dean jumped on the opportunity.
“Jeremy’s circles?” he asked, not sure who he was directing the question at, probably whomever would answer. Carol looked up at him, looking frustrated and overwhelmed. “Jeremy’s her brother, right?” Suddenly, Cecily bolted away from her mother. She came leaping across the table and Dean had to swiftly lean back and put up his arms and catch her to keep from falling over. Her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, her face digging into the crook of his neck. Dean was stunned for a minute before he put a hand on her head and whispered, “Hey, hey, shh. It’s alright.”
Cecily squeeze him tighter. “The man in the dark made Jeremy go to sleep and he’s not going to wake up. He made him go to sleep because of his circles.” She was sobbing now and couldn’t help but wrap his other arm around her. Stupid soft spot for kids. But she was a brave little thing, he’d give her that. He hadn’t forgotten that she’d seen her brother and two of his friends be killed in front of her. Throats slit. Eyes pitch black. Work of the man in the dark. Dean could somewhat sympathize. Though, his own memories consisted of smoke and heat. He couldn’t imagine watching his brother’s throat being slit in front of him. God, just the thought of it.
Sam came around them and walked to the other side of the table where Carol was silently crying her own tears. “Carol,” Sam’s voice was gently, smooth, just right to ease people into trusting him. Dean had always admired that in his brother. Maybe because it took him forever to get strangers to trust him. “Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?” Sam asked quietly.
Carol gave a deep sigh before looking at Sam. “This is real, isn’t it?” She asked. Sam tilted his head a little. Carol nodded her head towards the door. “She did that, didn’t she?”
“I think so,” he conceded.
Carol looked over at Cecily, who had stopped crying and was now just letting Dean comfort her, but her face was turned towards her mother, listening to what they were saying. “Jeremy…” Carol paused before going on. “My son was a good person. Ask anyone and they’ll tell you. But, lately, he’d been getting into things that worried me.”
“What sort of things?” Sam asked.
“I’m not sure exactly,” Carol admitted. “He had these drawings of symbols and markings. But when I called it witchcraft he got mad.” Dean caught the look Sam gave him. Now that was interesting. “He had all these symbols drawn on the walls in his bedroom and his friends brought over the strangest things. But every time I asked him what he was doing, he told me that it was nothing bad. He even said, Mom, you don’t have anything to worry about. We’re being safe.” Carol put a hand over her mouth and fought back tears. “I should have done something more.”
“I don’t think there was anything you could have done,” Sam tried to comfort her. She nodded and looked over at Cecily again. “Carol, I’m sorry for prying like this, but do you think we could get a look at Jeremy’s room?”
Carol looked mildly offended, but she then nodded. “I can’t pretend to know what’s going on here,” she whispered. “But my daughter’s never attached herself to someone like that.” She smiled when Dean gave her an uncomfortable look. “I feel like I’ve lost control.” Then she looked back over at Sam. “Do you really think my daughter has…powers?”
“Yeah,” Sam answered again with a small smile. It would probably take months of affirming the thought before Carol would actually accept it. Sam thought about giving her Missouri’s phone number, to see if the psychic could help at all. But they’d worry about that later. “I do.”
“And, you think that her dreams and her power had something to do with my son’s murder?” Carol asked.
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Sam answered gently.
Carol sighed. “I guess I have no choice,” she whispered. “Let me get Ceci’s nurse.” She looked one last time at her daughter before walking out of the room.
Sam turned to Dean, who was trying to get Cecily to let go of him so he could see her face. He wasn’t used to the whole collapsing of the personal bubble. Sam was finding it amusing. His brother looked so uncomfortable, but at the same time, Dean was being as gentle as Sam had ever seen him. Sam tried not to think of how seeing him like this made him wish their lives were different. Though sometimes Dean acted like a kid himself, Sam knew, without a doubt, that his brother would make an awesome father. Sam already knew he could play the part, he’d seen it so many times when they were kids and their Dad left Dean in charge.
Finally, Dean managed to pry Cecily away far enough so he could see her face. “Hey,” he tried to get her to smile. She did and Sam watched both their faces light up almost equally. They had the same looks on their faces and Sam realized Cecily must still have a connection with his brother. She was still inside his head. “Cecily, what did you mean when you said he was the one who brought us here?” Dean asked, picking her up and shifting her so she was sitting sideways on his lap, more comfortable for the both of them. “Because, you know, I let Sam drive for like an hour. So do that mean he’s crossed over to the dark side?” Sam rolled his eyes at the notion. Cecily saw it and smiled before she bit her lip and shook her head. “Well that’s good,” Dean gave Sam a playful look, to which he just sneered back at. “So how did he bring us here?”
“He just did,” she whispered. “He made everything happen.”
They didn’t have time to guess what she meant by that before Carol came back into the room with a nurse. They said their goodbyes, with Dean having to promise Cecily he’d be back before she finally let him go. Neither Cecily, nor Dean, looked too happy to be leaving each other and Sam wondered if Cecily even knew how to break the tie she shared with his brother. Would he always have her inside his head? Sam hoped not. It wouldn’t be healthy for any of them.
***
Carol showed them to Jeremy’s bedroom and told them that she would wait downstairs. Sam guessed that she didn’t want to go into the room so soon after her son’s death. He’d be willing to bet she hadn’t even opened the door yet. It was always the hardest part to come home and find their stuff laying around, to find everything that was a reminder that they weren’t coming back. Sam had a hard enough time looking at Jeremy’s picture collage lining the door and he didn’t even know the kid.
As soon as Carol was out of sight, Dean opened the door and they both stepped in. They didn’t make it far before both of them froze, unsure of how to proceed. The room looked like something their father would have lived in if he’d started the hunt in his teenage years. Newspaper clippings, drawings, photocopies, and painted symbols lined the walls in such a clutter it made Sam’s eyes hurt. There was a bookcase overflowing with books, journals, and notebooks. Candles, charms, and a rather wide collection of daggers filled every possible nook and cranny the room had to offer.
“Damn this kid needed a hobby,” Dean muttered as he walked further into the room.
“I think this was his hobby,” Sam answered as he went over to a table that had open books and drawings on it.
“I mean a real one,” Dean said, instantly drawn to the daggers. Like a kid to candy. “Like cars or…cars.” Sam snorted and kept looking around. After a moment, Dean gave a hushed laugh and Sam turned to see that his brother had found a pack of grape bubble gum. Cecily’s no doubt. Dean held it up to him. “The devil does come in gum flavor.”
Sam shook his head. “You’re such an idiot,” he mumbled. Then he stopped, head tilted forward as he started to read the open page in the journal in front of him. After a few sentences, Sam’s interest was peeked. “I think I found something.”
“Oh yeah?” Dean asked, coming over, and bringing one of Jeremy’s daggers with him. He was flipping it around in his hand and Sam was almost tempted to tell him not to play with knives, but if Dean didn’t play with knives, Sam didn’t know what he’d play with.
“Read this,” Sam said and pointed to the open page.
Dean cleared his throat. “Kasey’s dead.” He harrumphed and looked at Sam. “Kid shoulda been a novelist.”
“Just read,” Sam demanded.
Trying again. “Kasey’s dead. Just like Greg and Mike. We tried to stop him but we brought him back too powerful.” Dean’s eyes widened. “Brought him back?” he asked Sam. “Necromancy.”
Sam nodded. He pointed to a few of the drawings. “That would explain Jeremy’s circles. But he doesn’t have half the stuff he would need to do this here.” Sam was looking around. “If they brought something back from the dead, they didn’t do it in this room.”
Dean nodded and pointed to the journal. “You keep reading,” he said. “Find out what kind of spook we’re dealing with.”
“Where are you going?” Sam asked, irked at being left to do the reading, like always.
“He said we,” like that should explain it all. When Sam just stared at him blankly, Dean reached out and punched his shoulder. “Come on, college boy, what do you do when you want to chill with your friends?” Another blank look. Dean shook his head. “You shoulda joined a frat. You get the hell out of the house!” Dean said, exasperated. “Away from Mom and Dad. Especially if you’re doing crazy shit you don’t want them to know about. So they had to have had a hangout. I bet Mom knows where it is. Good kid like Jeremy, he probably called every hour to check in.”
“Wow and you thought of this all by yourself?” Sam asked with a smile.
Dean smiled back but swiped out at Sam again, catching him on the arm. Dean turned and headed towards the door. “Don’t get too lonely without me.”
“Yeah right,” Sam muttered as Dean grinned and headed to find Carol. Getting back to work, Sam flipped back a few pages in the journal and found the first entry where Jeremy talked about the illusive man in the dark. It sounded like the whole thing had started off as nothing more than a test to see if they could actually do it. They didn’t think it would work. Sam read further and further into the details of what they’d done to prepare for the whole thing. Jeremy was actually a pretty organized kid. He had neat, clear lists of everything they needed and used. Sam just wished he would say what they brought back. Maybe they didn’t even know?
Flipping the page, Sam’s wish was partially granted. He found out Jeremy hadn’t used the traditional Latin verses to bring a soul back, they’d used an Aramaic verse, the language of Christ. Sam was elated that he was finally getting somewhere, but at the same time discouraged over what he had just learned. He didn’t speak Aramaic and neither did Dean, unless his brother how somehow managed to learn it in the four years he’d been away. Though he doubted that. There were few people who spoke Aramaic outside of the religious sects. “Great,” Sam mumbled to himself, knowing what they were dealing with now. It explained a lot of things.
Dean came into the room a moment later with a grin on his face. “Finding anything fun?” he asked cockily. Apparently he had.
“Well, they brought back a soul,” Sam said. “They didn’t say they attached it to a body, so it sounded like a Familiar, but then I found this.” He pointed at the journal and Dean, with that stupid grin of his still plastered on his face, leaned over to eye it. “It’s the verse they used. It’s Aramaic.”
“Jesus speak?” Dean asked, eyes widening.
Sam resisted the urge to laugh at the terminology Dean used. No use encouraging him. “Bingo.” Sam put his thumb in the journal to hold his page and turned more to face Dean. “Mix dead souls, black magic runes, and Aramaic verses together and what do you get? A wraith, with demon-like qualities.”
Dean’s eyes widened. “That would explain the reoccurring theme of darkness,” he mumbled.
“And it would explain why all of the bodies were found with black eyes,” Sam added. “A wraith’s calling card.”
“Sounds fun,” Dean said, only half kidding.
“The good thing is that we can get rid of it through exorcism,” Sam bit his lip then, knowing Dean wasn’t going to like this. “The bad thing is, it has to be done in Aramaic.” Dean’s grin faded. “He’s got most of it sounded out here.” Sam held up the journal. “It’s just gonna take a while to put it together for the reverse.”
“Then I’m glad geek boys’ here,” Dean said and clapped Sam on the shoulder.
Sam scoffed. “Why do I always have to do the reading?” he complained, knowing he was sounding childish.
“Because you’re better at it,” Dean answered straightforward. Then the grin was back. “Now, I’ll see your Aramaic verses and demon-like wraiths, and I’ll raise you seven dead kids and an abandoned wine factory.”
“A wine factory?” Sam asked. “That’s where they hung out?”
“Yahtzee,” Dean answered with a grin. “And we’re going there too.”
Sam frowned. “What, right now?”
Dean just tilted his head and gave him a look. “Why? You wanna get your nails done first? Sammy, you’re pretty enough as it is, I don’t think Spooks is gonna care.” Sam rolled his eyes and shoved his brother away, only making Dean chuckle at him.
“Don’t you think we should know the verse first?” Sam asked, mildly irritated.
“It’s the middle of the day!” Dean cried. “There won’t be anything there while the sun’s still up.” Dean turned around and headed towards the door. “Know you’re battlefield, Sammy.”
Sam sighed and giving one last look around the room, he decided there was no arguing with Dean now. When his brother decided on something, then it was decided. He could start putting together the counter verse in the car, so at least they’d be a little prepared before barging in there. He started out of the bedroom door and towards the stairs. So, an exorcism. He could handle that. Sam guessed he had expected something more. The whole thing seemed to be beyond the limits of a simple wraith, but unless they were missing something huge, that’s what they were dealing with.
Sam started down the stairs after his brother and saw Dean turned his head to the side, getting ready to say something to him. But Dean never got the chance. Sam wasn’t sure what happened, but Dean suddenly doubled over and would have fallen down the stairs had Sam not acted quickly and reached out to grab a handful of Dean’s shirt. He stopped his brother from falling completely down, but both of them landed hard on the stairs. Sam dropped the journal and got a better hold of his brother, panic making him act quickly. What the hell just happened?
Dean was gritting his teeth and grinding the palms of his hands into his eyes, grunting at a pain that hadn’t been there only seconds before. “Dean?” Sam asked, frantic as his brother kept leaning forward, completely oblivious that if Sam hadn’t been holding on, he’d be falling headfirst down the staircase. “Dean, what’s going on?” Sam asked urgently, trying to pry Dean’s hands away from his eyes. “Dean?” Sam demanded, but his brother wasn’t listening. Sam wasn’t sure if he could. He was clenching his teeth, his whole body tense, small, painful gasping noises escaping him.
Carol suddenly ran to the staircase from where she had been seated in the kitchen. “What happened?” she asked. If Dean hadn’t been withering in pain, Sam would have been touched by her concern.
“I don’t know,” he answered breathily. “Dean?” he tried again. Carol came up and sat on the step below them, helping Sam keep Dean from falling down the stairs. “Dean, hey,” he tried. And suddenly, Dean jerked violently like he’d been struck and then stopped struggling completely. Sam felt a whole new wave of panic course through him, but when Dean lowered his hands from his eyes and sat still, drawing in deep breaths, Sam was more confused than anything. “Dean?” he asked. And without hesitation, Dean turned to look at him, whatever pain he’d been feeling completely gone. Sam just stared at him for a second. “What happened?” he asked.
Dean didn’t answer as the phone suddenly rang. Carol looked torn. Then she quickly asked, “Should I call for a doctor?”
“No,” Dean answered, his voice shaky. “But you should answer the phone.” His voice was detached and Sam was worried all over again.
Carol hesitated for only a second before she hurried down the stairs and into the living room to get the phone. Sam pulled Dean back so he could get a look at him. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly.
Dean nodded, but he still looked shaken. “It wasn’t me,” he whispered, his eyes watering slightly. “I don’t feel her anymore.” He turned his head towards the living room expectantly. Sam didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t used to this role reversal going on. Again, he had to ask himself why this was happening to Dean and not to him. But when Carol dropped the phone and came running back to them, near hysterics, Sam didn’t care who it was happening to anymore. He felt his heart stop and he felt Dean tense up beneath him.
“Cecily’s gone!” she cried and grabbed hold of Dean’s shirt as if the motion would spur Dean into action. “He’s got her. He’s got my daughter.”
Go to Chapter Six
Spoilers: If Missouri means nothing to you.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: The boys find out what they're dealing with.
Chapter Five
There was a part of him that acknowledged that he should have figured it out by now. Should have known it: in this job, this hunt, there have always been, and will always be, more questions than there are answers. And Dean knew, in every part of him; inside, outside, heart, soul, mind, hell even his fucking pinky finger, he knew that by now, after all these years of chasing the paranormal, fighting the supernatural, facing the preternatural, he should come to expect that things will never be as easy as he thought. No matter how hard he thought a job would be, it would be ten times harder. Without fail. He had enough scars to prove it. They all had enough scars to prove it. They were a scarred family, it was a miracle they were still all so damn good looking. Well, him anyways. Sammy could use a haircut. And John? Dean supposed the man would clean up nice. But when would that ever happen? His father hadn’t cleaned up in years.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice broke through the wandering thoughts and as he blinked back to awareness, he realized he’d been caught in the middle of a stare down with Cecily. How could anyone win against those eyes? They were deep and older than they should have been. And there was a darkness there that Dean couldn’t explain; because Cecily had the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Without realizing it, Dean felt himself being drawn back into those eyes. Something wasn’t right. They were Cecily’s eyes, wide and beautiful, but there was something else watching. Something that had reached out through the kid’s pupils and drew Dean in like a siren. He couldn’t resist. “Dean,” Sam said again, this time a bit snappish.
And whatever had been in those eyes was gone now and only a little girl stared back at him, scared, frightened, and begging for his help. Dean could practically feel the tension buzzing off his brother. Sam had a hand on his shoulder and he figured half of that tension was there because he hadn’t swatted him away. Well, there would be no point in shoving him off now. Besides, he felt like he needed the hand to be there, just in case whatever had been inside Cecily’s eyes decided to try and drag him in again.
“I think you should leave now,” came Carol’s voice. Dean forgot she was there and jolted a bit, feeling Sam’s hand tighten on his shoulder. Dammit, why was he so jumpy?
“No!” Cecily screamed, her eyes looking panicked. Carol instantly sobered and tried to calm her daughter, but Cecily just started crying. “No, Mommy, don’t make him leave! He’s the hero. Please, Mommy, please!” She sounded hysterical by now and Dean couldn’t help but feel like somehow this was his fault. “He’ll make Jeremy’s circles go away.” Carol looked stunned by the comment. Dean jumped on the opportunity.
“Jeremy’s circles?” he asked, not sure who he was directing the question at, probably whomever would answer. Carol looked up at him, looking frustrated and overwhelmed. “Jeremy’s her brother, right?” Suddenly, Cecily bolted away from her mother. She came leaping across the table and Dean had to swiftly lean back and put up his arms and catch her to keep from falling over. Her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, her face digging into the crook of his neck. Dean was stunned for a minute before he put a hand on her head and whispered, “Hey, hey, shh. It’s alright.”
Cecily squeeze him tighter. “The man in the dark made Jeremy go to sleep and he’s not going to wake up. He made him go to sleep because of his circles.” She was sobbing now and couldn’t help but wrap his other arm around her. Stupid soft spot for kids. But she was a brave little thing, he’d give her that. He hadn’t forgotten that she’d seen her brother and two of his friends be killed in front of her. Throats slit. Eyes pitch black. Work of the man in the dark. Dean could somewhat sympathize. Though, his own memories consisted of smoke and heat. He couldn’t imagine watching his brother’s throat being slit in front of him. God, just the thought of it.
Sam came around them and walked to the other side of the table where Carol was silently crying her own tears. “Carol,” Sam’s voice was gently, smooth, just right to ease people into trusting him. Dean had always admired that in his brother. Maybe because it took him forever to get strangers to trust him. “Do you have any idea what she’s talking about?” Sam asked quietly.
Carol gave a deep sigh before looking at Sam. “This is real, isn’t it?” She asked. Sam tilted his head a little. Carol nodded her head towards the door. “She did that, didn’t she?”
“I think so,” he conceded.
Carol looked over at Cecily, who had stopped crying and was now just letting Dean comfort her, but her face was turned towards her mother, listening to what they were saying. “Jeremy…” Carol paused before going on. “My son was a good person. Ask anyone and they’ll tell you. But, lately, he’d been getting into things that worried me.”
“What sort of things?” Sam asked.
“I’m not sure exactly,” Carol admitted. “He had these drawings of symbols and markings. But when I called it witchcraft he got mad.” Dean caught the look Sam gave him. Now that was interesting. “He had all these symbols drawn on the walls in his bedroom and his friends brought over the strangest things. But every time I asked him what he was doing, he told me that it was nothing bad. He even said, Mom, you don’t have anything to worry about. We’re being safe.” Carol put a hand over her mouth and fought back tears. “I should have done something more.”
“I don’t think there was anything you could have done,” Sam tried to comfort her. She nodded and looked over at Cecily again. “Carol, I’m sorry for prying like this, but do you think we could get a look at Jeremy’s room?”
Carol looked mildly offended, but she then nodded. “I can’t pretend to know what’s going on here,” she whispered. “But my daughter’s never attached herself to someone like that.” She smiled when Dean gave her an uncomfortable look. “I feel like I’ve lost control.” Then she looked back over at Sam. “Do you really think my daughter has…powers?”
“Yeah,” Sam answered again with a small smile. It would probably take months of affirming the thought before Carol would actually accept it. Sam thought about giving her Missouri’s phone number, to see if the psychic could help at all. But they’d worry about that later. “I do.”
“And, you think that her dreams and her power had something to do with my son’s murder?” Carol asked.
“That’s what we’re going to find out,” Sam answered gently.
Carol sighed. “I guess I have no choice,” she whispered. “Let me get Ceci’s nurse.” She looked one last time at her daughter before walking out of the room.
Sam turned to Dean, who was trying to get Cecily to let go of him so he could see her face. He wasn’t used to the whole collapsing of the personal bubble. Sam was finding it amusing. His brother looked so uncomfortable, but at the same time, Dean was being as gentle as Sam had ever seen him. Sam tried not to think of how seeing him like this made him wish their lives were different. Though sometimes Dean acted like a kid himself, Sam knew, without a doubt, that his brother would make an awesome father. Sam already knew he could play the part, he’d seen it so many times when they were kids and their Dad left Dean in charge.
Finally, Dean managed to pry Cecily away far enough so he could see her face. “Hey,” he tried to get her to smile. She did and Sam watched both their faces light up almost equally. They had the same looks on their faces and Sam realized Cecily must still have a connection with his brother. She was still inside his head. “Cecily, what did you mean when you said he was the one who brought us here?” Dean asked, picking her up and shifting her so she was sitting sideways on his lap, more comfortable for the both of them. “Because, you know, I let Sam drive for like an hour. So do that mean he’s crossed over to the dark side?” Sam rolled his eyes at the notion. Cecily saw it and smiled before she bit her lip and shook her head. “Well that’s good,” Dean gave Sam a playful look, to which he just sneered back at. “So how did he bring us here?”
“He just did,” she whispered. “He made everything happen.”
They didn’t have time to guess what she meant by that before Carol came back into the room with a nurse. They said their goodbyes, with Dean having to promise Cecily he’d be back before she finally let him go. Neither Cecily, nor Dean, looked too happy to be leaving each other and Sam wondered if Cecily even knew how to break the tie she shared with his brother. Would he always have her inside his head? Sam hoped not. It wouldn’t be healthy for any of them.
***
Carol showed them to Jeremy’s bedroom and told them that she would wait downstairs. Sam guessed that she didn’t want to go into the room so soon after her son’s death. He’d be willing to bet she hadn’t even opened the door yet. It was always the hardest part to come home and find their stuff laying around, to find everything that was a reminder that they weren’t coming back. Sam had a hard enough time looking at Jeremy’s picture collage lining the door and he didn’t even know the kid.
As soon as Carol was out of sight, Dean opened the door and they both stepped in. They didn’t make it far before both of them froze, unsure of how to proceed. The room looked like something their father would have lived in if he’d started the hunt in his teenage years. Newspaper clippings, drawings, photocopies, and painted symbols lined the walls in such a clutter it made Sam’s eyes hurt. There was a bookcase overflowing with books, journals, and notebooks. Candles, charms, and a rather wide collection of daggers filled every possible nook and cranny the room had to offer.
“Damn this kid needed a hobby,” Dean muttered as he walked further into the room.
“I think this was his hobby,” Sam answered as he went over to a table that had open books and drawings on it.
“I mean a real one,” Dean said, instantly drawn to the daggers. Like a kid to candy. “Like cars or…cars.” Sam snorted and kept looking around. After a moment, Dean gave a hushed laugh and Sam turned to see that his brother had found a pack of grape bubble gum. Cecily’s no doubt. Dean held it up to him. “The devil does come in gum flavor.”
Sam shook his head. “You’re such an idiot,” he mumbled. Then he stopped, head tilted forward as he started to read the open page in the journal in front of him. After a few sentences, Sam’s interest was peeked. “I think I found something.”
“Oh yeah?” Dean asked, coming over, and bringing one of Jeremy’s daggers with him. He was flipping it around in his hand and Sam was almost tempted to tell him not to play with knives, but if Dean didn’t play with knives, Sam didn’t know what he’d play with.
“Read this,” Sam said and pointed to the open page.
Dean cleared his throat. “Kasey’s dead.” He harrumphed and looked at Sam. “Kid shoulda been a novelist.”
“Just read,” Sam demanded.
Trying again. “Kasey’s dead. Just like Greg and Mike. We tried to stop him but we brought him back too powerful.” Dean’s eyes widened. “Brought him back?” he asked Sam. “Necromancy.”
Sam nodded. He pointed to a few of the drawings. “That would explain Jeremy’s circles. But he doesn’t have half the stuff he would need to do this here.” Sam was looking around. “If they brought something back from the dead, they didn’t do it in this room.”
Dean nodded and pointed to the journal. “You keep reading,” he said. “Find out what kind of spook we’re dealing with.”
“Where are you going?” Sam asked, irked at being left to do the reading, like always.
“He said we,” like that should explain it all. When Sam just stared at him blankly, Dean reached out and punched his shoulder. “Come on, college boy, what do you do when you want to chill with your friends?” Another blank look. Dean shook his head. “You shoulda joined a frat. You get the hell out of the house!” Dean said, exasperated. “Away from Mom and Dad. Especially if you’re doing crazy shit you don’t want them to know about. So they had to have had a hangout. I bet Mom knows where it is. Good kid like Jeremy, he probably called every hour to check in.”
“Wow and you thought of this all by yourself?” Sam asked with a smile.
Dean smiled back but swiped out at Sam again, catching him on the arm. Dean turned and headed towards the door. “Don’t get too lonely without me.”
“Yeah right,” Sam muttered as Dean grinned and headed to find Carol. Getting back to work, Sam flipped back a few pages in the journal and found the first entry where Jeremy talked about the illusive man in the dark. It sounded like the whole thing had started off as nothing more than a test to see if they could actually do it. They didn’t think it would work. Sam read further and further into the details of what they’d done to prepare for the whole thing. Jeremy was actually a pretty organized kid. He had neat, clear lists of everything they needed and used. Sam just wished he would say what they brought back. Maybe they didn’t even know?
Flipping the page, Sam’s wish was partially granted. He found out Jeremy hadn’t used the traditional Latin verses to bring a soul back, they’d used an Aramaic verse, the language of Christ. Sam was elated that he was finally getting somewhere, but at the same time discouraged over what he had just learned. He didn’t speak Aramaic and neither did Dean, unless his brother how somehow managed to learn it in the four years he’d been away. Though he doubted that. There were few people who spoke Aramaic outside of the religious sects. “Great,” Sam mumbled to himself, knowing what they were dealing with now. It explained a lot of things.
Dean came into the room a moment later with a grin on his face. “Finding anything fun?” he asked cockily. Apparently he had.
“Well, they brought back a soul,” Sam said. “They didn’t say they attached it to a body, so it sounded like a Familiar, but then I found this.” He pointed at the journal and Dean, with that stupid grin of his still plastered on his face, leaned over to eye it. “It’s the verse they used. It’s Aramaic.”
“Jesus speak?” Dean asked, eyes widening.
Sam resisted the urge to laugh at the terminology Dean used. No use encouraging him. “Bingo.” Sam put his thumb in the journal to hold his page and turned more to face Dean. “Mix dead souls, black magic runes, and Aramaic verses together and what do you get? A wraith, with demon-like qualities.”
Dean’s eyes widened. “That would explain the reoccurring theme of darkness,” he mumbled.
“And it would explain why all of the bodies were found with black eyes,” Sam added. “A wraith’s calling card.”
“Sounds fun,” Dean said, only half kidding.
“The good thing is that we can get rid of it through exorcism,” Sam bit his lip then, knowing Dean wasn’t going to like this. “The bad thing is, it has to be done in Aramaic.” Dean’s grin faded. “He’s got most of it sounded out here.” Sam held up the journal. “It’s just gonna take a while to put it together for the reverse.”
“Then I’m glad geek boys’ here,” Dean said and clapped Sam on the shoulder.
Sam scoffed. “Why do I always have to do the reading?” he complained, knowing he was sounding childish.
“Because you’re better at it,” Dean answered straightforward. Then the grin was back. “Now, I’ll see your Aramaic verses and demon-like wraiths, and I’ll raise you seven dead kids and an abandoned wine factory.”
“A wine factory?” Sam asked. “That’s where they hung out?”
“Yahtzee,” Dean answered with a grin. “And we’re going there too.”
Sam frowned. “What, right now?”
Dean just tilted his head and gave him a look. “Why? You wanna get your nails done first? Sammy, you’re pretty enough as it is, I don’t think Spooks is gonna care.” Sam rolled his eyes and shoved his brother away, only making Dean chuckle at him.
“Don’t you think we should know the verse first?” Sam asked, mildly irritated.
“It’s the middle of the day!” Dean cried. “There won’t be anything there while the sun’s still up.” Dean turned around and headed towards the door. “Know you’re battlefield, Sammy.”
Sam sighed and giving one last look around the room, he decided there was no arguing with Dean now. When his brother decided on something, then it was decided. He could start putting together the counter verse in the car, so at least they’d be a little prepared before barging in there. He started out of the bedroom door and towards the stairs. So, an exorcism. He could handle that. Sam guessed he had expected something more. The whole thing seemed to be beyond the limits of a simple wraith, but unless they were missing something huge, that’s what they were dealing with.
Sam started down the stairs after his brother and saw Dean turned his head to the side, getting ready to say something to him. But Dean never got the chance. Sam wasn’t sure what happened, but Dean suddenly doubled over and would have fallen down the stairs had Sam not acted quickly and reached out to grab a handful of Dean’s shirt. He stopped his brother from falling completely down, but both of them landed hard on the stairs. Sam dropped the journal and got a better hold of his brother, panic making him act quickly. What the hell just happened?
Dean was gritting his teeth and grinding the palms of his hands into his eyes, grunting at a pain that hadn’t been there only seconds before. “Dean?” Sam asked, frantic as his brother kept leaning forward, completely oblivious that if Sam hadn’t been holding on, he’d be falling headfirst down the staircase. “Dean, what’s going on?” Sam asked urgently, trying to pry Dean’s hands away from his eyes. “Dean?” Sam demanded, but his brother wasn’t listening. Sam wasn’t sure if he could. He was clenching his teeth, his whole body tense, small, painful gasping noises escaping him.
Carol suddenly ran to the staircase from where she had been seated in the kitchen. “What happened?” she asked. If Dean hadn’t been withering in pain, Sam would have been touched by her concern.
“I don’t know,” he answered breathily. “Dean?” he tried again. Carol came up and sat on the step below them, helping Sam keep Dean from falling down the stairs. “Dean, hey,” he tried. And suddenly, Dean jerked violently like he’d been struck and then stopped struggling completely. Sam felt a whole new wave of panic course through him, but when Dean lowered his hands from his eyes and sat still, drawing in deep breaths, Sam was more confused than anything. “Dean?” he asked. And without hesitation, Dean turned to look at him, whatever pain he’d been feeling completely gone. Sam just stared at him for a second. “What happened?” he asked.
Dean didn’t answer as the phone suddenly rang. Carol looked torn. Then she quickly asked, “Should I call for a doctor?”
“No,” Dean answered, his voice shaky. “But you should answer the phone.” His voice was detached and Sam was worried all over again.
Carol hesitated for only a second before she hurried down the stairs and into the living room to get the phone. Sam pulled Dean back so he could get a look at him. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly.
Dean nodded, but he still looked shaken. “It wasn’t me,” he whispered, his eyes watering slightly. “I don’t feel her anymore.” He turned his head towards the living room expectantly. Sam didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t used to this role reversal going on. Again, he had to ask himself why this was happening to Dean and not to him. But when Carol dropped the phone and came running back to them, near hysterics, Sam didn’t care who it was happening to anymore. He felt his heart stop and he felt Dean tense up beneath him.
“Cecily’s gone!” she cried and grabbed hold of Dean’s shirt as if the motion would spur Dean into action. “He’s got her. He’s got my daughter.”
Go to Chapter Six