The Same Coin [13a/13]
Author's Note: Due to the exceptionally long delay in completion of this chapter ‘many apologies’ I’ve decided to break this finale chapter into two parts. It’s my hope that posting this first half will help me feel less anxious about how long this is taking me and I’ll be able to finish writing without rushing the ending! Calling it 13a is simply to keep me from lying when I predicted it would be 13 chapters =P
Title: The Same Coin
Shows: Supernatural/Stargate SG-1
Author: yacoba
Beta: i_paint_the_sky
Word Count: 3 473
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Adventure/Hurt/Comfort
Spoilers: None for either show
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from either Supernatural or Stargate SG-1
Summary: Crossover with Stargate SG-1. Sam and Dean are on the hunt for a demon, what happens when the rash of unexplained deaths attracts the attention of the SGC? -Set during Season 2 of Supernatural-
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve |
Dean released a frustrated breath, turning the slip of paper one way and then another, trying to see the symbol in any other light than what he’d first glimpsed.
“That doesn’t sound promising,” Daniel commented slowly, leaning his hip against the table so he could look at the charcoal rubbing.
The hunter tossed the paper aside, reaching for the artifact instead. “Did you find any traces of blood on the artifact?” he asked, turning the small box over in his hands to try and get a first hand look at the engraving.
“Uh…” The archeologist turned away from the table beginning a search for the file.
Dean winced at the strain looking at the artifact caused his eyes; he was fairly sure he could make out a hint of dried blood in the carved symbol. He shifted the box to his left hand, rubbing the awkward feeling from his eyes before looking to Dr. Jackson. “Anything?” he asked somewhat impatiently.
“Here it is,” Daniel exclaimed triumphantly as he pulled the file from beneath a pile of books and other papers. “Let’s see.” He opened the folder quickly flipping through several pages. “Um…yes, Sam did find minute traces of blood on both the lip of the box and the bottom. I take it that means something to you?” he asked looking up at Dean.
“Yeah,” Dean growled, slamming the box against the table.
“Whoa, hey!” the archeologist squawked, dropping the file so he could pick up the box, examining it in the light for damage.
Dean smirked a little at the man’s reaction, despite the knowledge of just how screwed they were. “Don’t worry,” he said dismissively, “you can’t break it.”
“Because of this symbol?” Daniel asked, adjusting his glasses as he squinted down at the artifact.
“More than likely,” he said, pulling his right hand down his jaw as green eyes sought out the charcoal rubbing yet again. Dean was still hopeful that his initial conclusion was wrong but he knew he was going to have to confirm. “I need to get Sam up here,” he muttered, more to himself, while fishing his cell from his front pocket.
---SPN/SG-1---
Sam woke to the persistent sound of a phone ringing and reached blindly for the annoying device. “Hello?” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Rise and shine, Sammy,” Dean’s voice rumbled in his ear.
“Dean?” Sam said confused, shifting on the bed he switched on the lamp brown eyes immediately going to the other bed. “Where are you?” he asked more awake now.
“Daniel’s lab.”
Sam pulled a hand down his face, still trying to shrug off the last residue of sleep. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I’ve only been up half hour myself,” Dean said in a dismissive tone. “Look, we’ve got a problem,” he continued after a beat.
“What is it?” he asked, not sure what to expect but already preparing himself for the worst.
“Daniel found another symbol on the artifact,” his brother began, the rough timber to his voice betraying his concern. “I’m pretty sure it’s a Blood Seal.”
The younger hunter blinked several times, trying to pull the memory from his still sluggish brain. “What, like the cursed box in Massachusetts?” he asked back.
“It’s pretty damn similar,” Dean confirmed with a frustrated sigh.
“Damnit.” Sam shifted to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs over the side. “I’ll be up in ten minutes,” he said before dropping the phone. Reaching for his jeans, Sam shook his head. “This isn’t good.”
He clearly remembered the hunt in that small seaside town and the lengths they’d had to go in order to destroy the box. They’d first believed that they were dealing with a similarly cursed object, like the painting from New Paitz; however, after burning the bones of one Angus Lee, the ‘unexplained’ murders continued.
Slipping his feet into shoes, Sam got up from the bed and shrugged into his over shirt as he walked to the door. A Marine guard turned as he exited the room and Sam offered him a slightly awkward nod as a greeting.
“Morning, sir,” the guard greeted with a curt nod of his own. “Dr. Jackson lab?” he asked a second later.
“Uh, yeah,” Sam replied lamely, not sure what he thought of the armed escort that followed him and Dean all over the base.
As Sam silently followed the Marine, he let his thoughts wandered back to the hunt in Massachusetts, easily able to picture the simple curves of the blood seal cut sharply with bisecting lines. He’d wondered about the odd symbol when he and Dean had pinpointed the simple wood box as the one constant in all the murders. Neither he nor Dean had known what it was at the time.
They’d done their research, discovering, with a little help from Bobby, that a simple cleansing ritual would end the curse, finally allowing Angus’ soul to rest in peace. Or so they had thought. When even that hadn’t worked they’d finally poured more of their time and attention into that strange symbol.
Sam smirked to himself as he leaned back in the elevator, remembering Singer’s reaction when they’d finally told him about the blood seal: he’d called them a couple of idiots for not telling him about it sooner. Apparently he’d known about blood seals for years and they were always, always, a pain in the neck to deal with. It was bad enough trying to track down these various cursed items and just seal them away if not cleanse them. But so long as the item was sealed with blood, nothing could destroy it, not until you’d broken the seal itself.
It was a two part process, breaking a blood seal: the first required the blood of a victim of the curse. This hadn’t been hard for them to find. The second was much more difficult and possibly, in their present situation, down right impossible. They needed blood from the line that had originally created the seal. Without both of those, not even Bobby was aware of any other way to destroy the seal.
“Sir?”
The hunter looked up to see the Marine standing half in, half out of the elevator, clearly waiting for the hunter to follow him out onto the eighteenth floor. “Right, sorry,” he muttered, following the soldier into the hall.
“Can I ask you something, sir?” the man asked after a moment, glancing quickly at Sam before looking ahead again.
“Only if you stop calling me sir,” he replied with a smile. “It’s Sam.”
“Tom,” he replied with a grin of his own.
Sam extended his hand to the Marine, receiving a firm shake. “What do you want to know?”
“With what you and your brother know,” he began tone hard to read, “can you even enjoy horror films?”
Sam chuckled at the question; he didn’t know what he’d been expecting but that wasn’t it. “Dean still loves the classics.”
Tom eyed him for a moment. “I guess you don’t watch them for the scare factor,” he continued with a crooked grin.
“More like for laughter,” Sam agreed, smirking as he remembered one of the more recent titles he and Dean had stopped to watch. “So, is it the same for you with alien movies?” he asked as Tom came to a stop outside Dr. Jackson lab.
“Not so much…” he admitted slowly. “Considering what I’ve seen working here, they’re not so far off the mark.”
Sam’s brow furrowed at the admission, unable to forget the mission reports he’d read. At the time he’d found them hard to believe but his eyes had been opened, just as he and Dean had done for the SGC. There was a lot more threatening Earth than either side had realized. Sam accepted Tom’s hand in another friendly shake, feeling a little better about his escort now that he’d spoken to him.
Stepping inside the office, Sam’s hazel eyes immediately landed on his brother and Daniel. The archeologist was seated at his computer, Dean watching from over his right shoulder.
“Where is it?” he asked, coming up behind his brother.
Dean glanced over his shoulder and passed Sam the paper with his good arm. “Tell me I saw that wrong,” he almost pleaded and Sam didn’t miss the set of his brother’s jaw, a clear indication-at least to him-that Dean was in pain.
Sam looked down at the piece of paper. “No,” he sighed, “that’s definitely a blood seal. Have you put in a call to Bobby?” he asked still studying the lines of the charcoal rubbing.
“Why?” Dean scoffed immediately. “So he can tell us what we already know?”
“Yeah…” Sam agreed softly, attention shifting to the computer screen. “What are you doing?” he asked then, curious about what could have Daniel so interested.
The older Winchester leaned back in his seat, tipping his head back so he was eyeing his brother. “I told Daniel about blood seals. He’s more of a geek than you,” he smirked, “and started doing his own research immediately.”
“Hasn’t found anything new, has he?” Sam asked a little hopeful.
Dean shifted in his seat unable to stifle a groan. “You think our luck’s changed?”
Sam glanced again at the archeologist, who appeared to be completely oblivious to the room around him, before returning to Dean. “You have your meds?” he asked, glancing around the room for water or something Dean could take them with.
“Already took them, Sammy,” Dean said with an annoyed sigh. “I’m fine,” he added, twisting his chair around to look directly at his brother.
“Yeah, you definitely look it,” Sam returned sarcastically.
Dean replied with a single finger before getting to his feet to pour himself a fresh cup of coffee. “You want a cup?” Dean asked, holding out a mug to Sam.
One breath of the strong aroma was all Sam needed to decide; he accepted the cup, quickly taking a sip. “So now what do we do?”
“No idea.”
---SPN/SG-1---
It was a little past noon when General Hammond called for a briefing on the demon. Colonel O’Neill, Captain Carter, and Teal’c already knew what Dean and Daniel had uncovered that morning. It came as no surprise to Dean that all Daniel’s resources hadn’t been able to offer any new information about the blood seal; they were still euchred.
Dean eased himself down onto one of the leather chairs in the conference room, trying to make the movements fluid, knowing Sam had been watching him all morning. Once seated, Dean ducked his head and removed the sling, wondering if taking away the visual reminder might stop Sam’s worrying. He didn’t expect it to but it was worth a shot.
General Hammond took his seat at the head of the table. “What do we know?” he asked simply.
“We know that the demon is called Kigatilik, one of the People of the Claw,” Daniel explained, the only one in the room who hadn’t taken a seat yet. He stood at the base of the table, a projection screen against the wall. “Little is known about this kind of demon though we do know that it originated in the Inuit culture.”
“Inuit?” Hammond repeated, clearly surprised.
“Our best guess,” Daniel continued, as the lights in the room dimmed, “is that this artifact was a gift between tribes.” As the archeologist spoke, images of the box appeared on the projection screen, including scanned images of the charcoal rubbings he’d made the day before.
Daniel turned to face the room. “The inscription on the four sides of the box reads ‘Keeper of Mahaha heed this rede. Control and mercy must be his creed.’”
“Mahaha? Seriously?” Jack demanded; he was leaning against the table his head resting against his palm. Dean thought he almost looked bored and was pretty sure the Colonel didn’t full comprehend just how screwed they were.
Dr. Jackson adjusted his glasses but didn’t rise to Jack’s bait. “Yet another name for the demon,” he explained calmly. “My research has shown that the Kigatilik was most known for killing shaman and that, in times of war, possession of this demon would be a significant upper hand.”
“Daniel Jackson, this demon has not been killing shaman,” Teal’c pointed out, calmly watching his friend with a raised brow.
“No,” Sam spoke up, leaning both elbows against the surface of the table. “It’s possible that several hundred years being trapped in that grave has driven it mad.”
“I’ve also taken into consideration that it might have been misused by the tribe it was gifted too,” Daniel continued. “The inscription is a warning, to any who would mean to use the power of the Kigatilik, to use it wisely.”
“Do we know why the demon kills the way it does?” Captain Carter asked.
“You mean taking part of the heart?” Dean asked back.
“Right,” she nodded, looking around the room, “why not just kill the victims? Why would it take anything?”
“It was believed at one time that the heart was the seat of the human soul,” Daniel began to explain, bouncing slightly on his toes as he spoke. “The symbol which referred to a person’s spirituality, their emotions and even morality--”
“So what you’re saying,” Jack cut in quickly, “is that it’s important.”
Daniel sighed. “Yes Jack, it’s an important organ.”
“Are we any closer to killing this demon?” the General asked, bringing the conversation back to the problem at hand.
“There’s a problem with that,” Dean said, twisting his chair back towards the head of the table.
“On the bottom of the artifact, I found yet another symbol,” Daniel said, clicking on a small remote in his hand to bring up a picture of the seal.
Hammond leaned towards the screen. “This isn’t part of the inscription?”
Daniel shook his head. “No.”
“It’s called a Blood Seal,” Sam picked up the explanation as the archeologist took his seat. “This very rare old world magic, Dean and I have only come across it once.”
“What does it do?”
“Think of it like insurance,” Dean supplied, reaching for the glass of water that stood near his right elbow.
“A blood seal is used to protect a cursed object from the usual cleansing rituals,” his brother continued. “So long as this seal is on the artifact, nothing we do will destroy it or the demon.”
“So what are our options?” the General asked to the entire room, though most of his attention was on Sam and Dean. “Obviously we need to break the seal,” he added.
“Which is the problem,” Daniel said slowly.
“You don’t know how to break it?” Hammond guessed.
Dean shook his head. “Oh, we know how,” he assured coolly.
“The problem is we only know of one way to do it and it requires two elements,” Sam explained more fully. “We need the blood of a victim, which isn’t hard to come by,” he continued directing a hand at Dean. “The second half is much more difficult. We need blood from the lineage that originally created the seal.”
Silence settled over the conference room for several long minutes as the gravity of their problem finally sunk in. Dean shifted uncomfortable in his seat but forced himself to wait for the General’s logical next question. Thankfully, he wasn’t made to wait long.
“There’s no other way to break it?”
“None that we’ve been able to find,” Sam confirmed.
“Can’t we just leave the demon where it is?” O’Neill asked after a beat.
Dean shook his head immediately. “That’s not a permanent solution. If something breaks the devil’s trap, the killings are just going to start right back up again.”
“What are our chances of finding someone of this lineage among Earth’s population?” Hammond asked his attention shifting to Samantha Carter and Daniel.
They shared a brief glance. “Astronomically small, Sir. The population’s too dispersed.”
“There’s also the problem of getting the members of the tribe to help us,” Daniel pointed out speaking quickly. “Considering the way they’ve been treated over the years, they aren’t exactly forth coming with their rituals and old ways.”
Samantha nodded in agreement. “Maybe if we had several years…” she trailed of with a shrug.
Something in what Carter had said clearly got Daniel thinking as he began leafing through his files. “Did you carbon date the artifact?” he asked, blue eyes still searching his papers.
“Yes,” she replied, “what are you thinking?”
Daniel pulled a page from the stack in front of him. “At least 1100 AD,” he muttered to himself.
Dean shifted to the edge of his seat, forcing himself to sit a little straighter and finding the new position removed some of the pressure from his ribs. “Don’t leave us hanging,” he said, tapping his fingers against the table.
Daniel’s expression began thoughtful as he leaned back in his chair, the slip of paper hanging loosely from his fingers. “What about P4X-495?” he finally suggested.
“What about it?” Jack was fast to return.
“The Gou’ald took people from all over Earth, enslaving them on different planets,” Dr. Jackson said, looking at Sam and Dean. “It’s possible we may be able to find a descendant of whoever created the seal.”
“Does the line need to be direct?” Carter asked, looking across the table. “Father to son? Or would any relative from the initial line be enough?”
“If they’re ultimately from the same bloodline that’s all we need,” Sam confirmed.
“Dr. Jackson, you’re suggesting that the Natives of P4X-495 will have a direct relation to whoever created this seal?” General Hammond spoke up, his right hand gesturing towards the image still shining against the far wall.
“Yes,” Daniel said, first quite simply but his quick intake in breath signaled much more to follow. “The Shaman of a tribe is considered the most valuable member, an almost supernatural being, the bringer of fortune and prosperity. In the smaller tribes it’s not uncommon for all the members to be related, extended family units.”
“And they didn’t have a problem with incest?” Dean asked curiously.
Daniel shook his head. “No, the women of the tribes were traded in order to keep down inbreeding.”
“I hope they were nicer about it than the Mongols,” Samantha muttered, her expression briefly growing dark.
“What’s your plan once the seal is broken?” the General asked.
Sam brushed a hand through his hair, seemingly without notice. “There are several cleansing rituals, one of which should work.”
“The exorcism you tried when it first attacked might send it packing for good,” Dean suggested, though he realized there was a strong possibility the Kigatilik was tied completely to the artifact.
“We may be able to better than that,” Daniel spoke up thoughtfully. “Tiriaq may know best how to deal with this demon his ancestors summoned.”
“I take it he’s the Shaman of the tribe?” Sam asked curiously.
The archeologist nodded. “I’ve met with Tiriaq on several occasions, he’ll be willing to help us,” he said confidently.
“So,” Jack said sharply, drawing the attention of the room. “All we need is some of Dean’s blood and to bring the demon to P4X-495?”
“We’ll need to go with you,” the younger Winchester spoke up quickly. “Both blood from the victim and the caster needs to be fresh,” he explained.
Dean maintained a blank expression as he glanced sideways at his little brother. Sam was lying as smoothly as ever, leaving Dean to wonder why? A single glance out the reinforced glass gave Dean his answer. He wasn’t the least bit surprised that Sam wanted to step through the Stargate; they’d come this far why not go the whole way?
“No,” Hammond shook his head. “We can’t allow that.”
“You won’t be able to break the seal without Dean’s blood,” Sam told the General firmly, his tone implying clearly you couldn’t have one Winchester without the other.
Dean watched the older man consider his options and, for Sam’s sake, Dean hoped no one asked what they’d do if no victims were alive.
“Sir, I don’t see that we have much choice,” Captain Carter spoke up, folded hands resting against the table.
The older hunter dipped his head to conceal a tiny smirk. Apparently the complexity of a blood seal was strong enough to have them believing anything. He glanced back to the window seeing the top edge of the Stargate, unable to deny his own curiosity.
General Hammond turned his attention fully on Jack, “Colonel?”
Jack glanced down the table as he spoke. “Well sir, they’ve already signed the nondisclosure agreements,” he drawled, head cocking to the side slightly as he eyed them both. “So long as they can both follow the proper chain of command…” he left the statement hanging.
“Alright,” Hammond spoke finally. “SG-1, you have a go.”
Thanks for reading!
Go to: Twelve | Thirteen[b]
Title: The Same Coin
Shows: Supernatural/Stargate SG-1
Author: yacoba
Beta: i_paint_the_sky
Word Count: 3 473
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Adventure/Hurt/Comfort
Spoilers: None for either show
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from either Supernatural or Stargate SG-1
Summary: Crossover with Stargate SG-1. Sam and Dean are on the hunt for a demon, what happens when the rash of unexplained deaths attracts the attention of the SGC? -Set during Season 2 of Supernatural-
One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve |
Dean released a frustrated breath, turning the slip of paper one way and then another, trying to see the symbol in any other light than what he’d first glimpsed.
“That doesn’t sound promising,” Daniel commented slowly, leaning his hip against the table so he could look at the charcoal rubbing.
The hunter tossed the paper aside, reaching for the artifact instead. “Did you find any traces of blood on the artifact?” he asked, turning the small box over in his hands to try and get a first hand look at the engraving.
“Uh…” The archeologist turned away from the table beginning a search for the file.
Dean winced at the strain looking at the artifact caused his eyes; he was fairly sure he could make out a hint of dried blood in the carved symbol. He shifted the box to his left hand, rubbing the awkward feeling from his eyes before looking to Dr. Jackson. “Anything?” he asked somewhat impatiently.
“Here it is,” Daniel exclaimed triumphantly as he pulled the file from beneath a pile of books and other papers. “Let’s see.” He opened the folder quickly flipping through several pages. “Um…yes, Sam did find minute traces of blood on both the lip of the box and the bottom. I take it that means something to you?” he asked looking up at Dean.
“Yeah,” Dean growled, slamming the box against the table.
“Whoa, hey!” the archeologist squawked, dropping the file so he could pick up the box, examining it in the light for damage.
Dean smirked a little at the man’s reaction, despite the knowledge of just how screwed they were. “Don’t worry,” he said dismissively, “you can’t break it.”
“Because of this symbol?” Daniel asked, adjusting his glasses as he squinted down at the artifact.
“More than likely,” he said, pulling his right hand down his jaw as green eyes sought out the charcoal rubbing yet again. Dean was still hopeful that his initial conclusion was wrong but he knew he was going to have to confirm. “I need to get Sam up here,” he muttered, more to himself, while fishing his cell from his front pocket.
---SPN/SG-1---
Sam woke to the persistent sound of a phone ringing and reached blindly for the annoying device. “Hello?” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Rise and shine, Sammy,” Dean’s voice rumbled in his ear.
“Dean?” Sam said confused, shifting on the bed he switched on the lamp brown eyes immediately going to the other bed. “Where are you?” he asked more awake now.
“Daniel’s lab.”
Sam pulled a hand down his face, still trying to shrug off the last residue of sleep. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“I’ve only been up half hour myself,” Dean said in a dismissive tone. “Look, we’ve got a problem,” he continued after a beat.
“What is it?” he asked, not sure what to expect but already preparing himself for the worst.
“Daniel found another symbol on the artifact,” his brother began, the rough timber to his voice betraying his concern. “I’m pretty sure it’s a Blood Seal.”
The younger hunter blinked several times, trying to pull the memory from his still sluggish brain. “What, like the cursed box in Massachusetts?” he asked back.
“It’s pretty damn similar,” Dean confirmed with a frustrated sigh.
“Damnit.” Sam shifted to the edge of the bed, swinging his legs over the side. “I’ll be up in ten minutes,” he said before dropping the phone. Reaching for his jeans, Sam shook his head. “This isn’t good.”
He clearly remembered the hunt in that small seaside town and the lengths they’d had to go in order to destroy the box. They’d first believed that they were dealing with a similarly cursed object, like the painting from New Paitz; however, after burning the bones of one Angus Lee, the ‘unexplained’ murders continued.
Slipping his feet into shoes, Sam got up from the bed and shrugged into his over shirt as he walked to the door. A Marine guard turned as he exited the room and Sam offered him a slightly awkward nod as a greeting.
“Morning, sir,” the guard greeted with a curt nod of his own. “Dr. Jackson lab?” he asked a second later.
“Uh, yeah,” Sam replied lamely, not sure what he thought of the armed escort that followed him and Dean all over the base.
As Sam silently followed the Marine, he let his thoughts wandered back to the hunt in Massachusetts, easily able to picture the simple curves of the blood seal cut sharply with bisecting lines. He’d wondered about the odd symbol when he and Dean had pinpointed the simple wood box as the one constant in all the murders. Neither he nor Dean had known what it was at the time.
They’d done their research, discovering, with a little help from Bobby, that a simple cleansing ritual would end the curse, finally allowing Angus’ soul to rest in peace. Or so they had thought. When even that hadn’t worked they’d finally poured more of their time and attention into that strange symbol.
Sam smirked to himself as he leaned back in the elevator, remembering Singer’s reaction when they’d finally told him about the blood seal: he’d called them a couple of idiots for not telling him about it sooner. Apparently he’d known about blood seals for years and they were always, always, a pain in the neck to deal with. It was bad enough trying to track down these various cursed items and just seal them away if not cleanse them. But so long as the item was sealed with blood, nothing could destroy it, not until you’d broken the seal itself.
It was a two part process, breaking a blood seal: the first required the blood of a victim of the curse. This hadn’t been hard for them to find. The second was much more difficult and possibly, in their present situation, down right impossible. They needed blood from the line that had originally created the seal. Without both of those, not even Bobby was aware of any other way to destroy the seal.
“Sir?”
The hunter looked up to see the Marine standing half in, half out of the elevator, clearly waiting for the hunter to follow him out onto the eighteenth floor. “Right, sorry,” he muttered, following the soldier into the hall.
“Can I ask you something, sir?” the man asked after a moment, glancing quickly at Sam before looking ahead again.
“Only if you stop calling me sir,” he replied with a smile. “It’s Sam.”
“Tom,” he replied with a grin of his own.
Sam extended his hand to the Marine, receiving a firm shake. “What do you want to know?”
“With what you and your brother know,” he began tone hard to read, “can you even enjoy horror films?”
Sam chuckled at the question; he didn’t know what he’d been expecting but that wasn’t it. “Dean still loves the classics.”
Tom eyed him for a moment. “I guess you don’t watch them for the scare factor,” he continued with a crooked grin.
“More like for laughter,” Sam agreed, smirking as he remembered one of the more recent titles he and Dean had stopped to watch. “So, is it the same for you with alien movies?” he asked as Tom came to a stop outside Dr. Jackson lab.
“Not so much…” he admitted slowly. “Considering what I’ve seen working here, they’re not so far off the mark.”
Sam’s brow furrowed at the admission, unable to forget the mission reports he’d read. At the time he’d found them hard to believe but his eyes had been opened, just as he and Dean had done for the SGC. There was a lot more threatening Earth than either side had realized. Sam accepted Tom’s hand in another friendly shake, feeling a little better about his escort now that he’d spoken to him.
Stepping inside the office, Sam’s hazel eyes immediately landed on his brother and Daniel. The archeologist was seated at his computer, Dean watching from over his right shoulder.
“Where is it?” he asked, coming up behind his brother.
Dean glanced over his shoulder and passed Sam the paper with his good arm. “Tell me I saw that wrong,” he almost pleaded and Sam didn’t miss the set of his brother’s jaw, a clear indication-at least to him-that Dean was in pain.
Sam looked down at the piece of paper. “No,” he sighed, “that’s definitely a blood seal. Have you put in a call to Bobby?” he asked still studying the lines of the charcoal rubbing.
“Why?” Dean scoffed immediately. “So he can tell us what we already know?”
“Yeah…” Sam agreed softly, attention shifting to the computer screen. “What are you doing?” he asked then, curious about what could have Daniel so interested.
The older Winchester leaned back in his seat, tipping his head back so he was eyeing his brother. “I told Daniel about blood seals. He’s more of a geek than you,” he smirked, “and started doing his own research immediately.”
“Hasn’t found anything new, has he?” Sam asked a little hopeful.
Dean shifted in his seat unable to stifle a groan. “You think our luck’s changed?”
Sam glanced again at the archeologist, who appeared to be completely oblivious to the room around him, before returning to Dean. “You have your meds?” he asked, glancing around the room for water or something Dean could take them with.
“Already took them, Sammy,” Dean said with an annoyed sigh. “I’m fine,” he added, twisting his chair around to look directly at his brother.
“Yeah, you definitely look it,” Sam returned sarcastically.
Dean replied with a single finger before getting to his feet to pour himself a fresh cup of coffee. “You want a cup?” Dean asked, holding out a mug to Sam.
One breath of the strong aroma was all Sam needed to decide; he accepted the cup, quickly taking a sip. “So now what do we do?”
“No idea.”
---SPN/SG-1---
It was a little past noon when General Hammond called for a briefing on the demon. Colonel O’Neill, Captain Carter, and Teal’c already knew what Dean and Daniel had uncovered that morning. It came as no surprise to Dean that all Daniel’s resources hadn’t been able to offer any new information about the blood seal; they were still euchred.
Dean eased himself down onto one of the leather chairs in the conference room, trying to make the movements fluid, knowing Sam had been watching him all morning. Once seated, Dean ducked his head and removed the sling, wondering if taking away the visual reminder might stop Sam’s worrying. He didn’t expect it to but it was worth a shot.
General Hammond took his seat at the head of the table. “What do we know?” he asked simply.
“We know that the demon is called Kigatilik, one of the People of the Claw,” Daniel explained, the only one in the room who hadn’t taken a seat yet. He stood at the base of the table, a projection screen against the wall. “Little is known about this kind of demon though we do know that it originated in the Inuit culture.”
“Inuit?” Hammond repeated, clearly surprised.
“Our best guess,” Daniel continued, as the lights in the room dimmed, “is that this artifact was a gift between tribes.” As the archeologist spoke, images of the box appeared on the projection screen, including scanned images of the charcoal rubbings he’d made the day before.
Daniel turned to face the room. “The inscription on the four sides of the box reads ‘Keeper of Mahaha heed this rede. Control and mercy must be his creed.’”
“Mahaha? Seriously?” Jack demanded; he was leaning against the table his head resting against his palm. Dean thought he almost looked bored and was pretty sure the Colonel didn’t full comprehend just how screwed they were.
Dr. Jackson adjusted his glasses but didn’t rise to Jack’s bait. “Yet another name for the demon,” he explained calmly. “My research has shown that the Kigatilik was most known for killing shaman and that, in times of war, possession of this demon would be a significant upper hand.”
“Daniel Jackson, this demon has not been killing shaman,” Teal’c pointed out, calmly watching his friend with a raised brow.
“No,” Sam spoke up, leaning both elbows against the surface of the table. “It’s possible that several hundred years being trapped in that grave has driven it mad.”
“I’ve also taken into consideration that it might have been misused by the tribe it was gifted too,” Daniel continued. “The inscription is a warning, to any who would mean to use the power of the Kigatilik, to use it wisely.”
“Do we know why the demon kills the way it does?” Captain Carter asked.
“You mean taking part of the heart?” Dean asked back.
“Right,” she nodded, looking around the room, “why not just kill the victims? Why would it take anything?”
“It was believed at one time that the heart was the seat of the human soul,” Daniel began to explain, bouncing slightly on his toes as he spoke. “The symbol which referred to a person’s spirituality, their emotions and even morality--”
“So what you’re saying,” Jack cut in quickly, “is that it’s important.”
Daniel sighed. “Yes Jack, it’s an important organ.”
“Are we any closer to killing this demon?” the General asked, bringing the conversation back to the problem at hand.
“There’s a problem with that,” Dean said, twisting his chair back towards the head of the table.
“On the bottom of the artifact, I found yet another symbol,” Daniel said, clicking on a small remote in his hand to bring up a picture of the seal.
Hammond leaned towards the screen. “This isn’t part of the inscription?”
Daniel shook his head. “No.”
“It’s called a Blood Seal,” Sam picked up the explanation as the archeologist took his seat. “This very rare old world magic, Dean and I have only come across it once.”
“What does it do?”
“Think of it like insurance,” Dean supplied, reaching for the glass of water that stood near his right elbow.
“A blood seal is used to protect a cursed object from the usual cleansing rituals,” his brother continued. “So long as this seal is on the artifact, nothing we do will destroy it or the demon.”
“So what are our options?” the General asked to the entire room, though most of his attention was on Sam and Dean. “Obviously we need to break the seal,” he added.
“Which is the problem,” Daniel said slowly.
“You don’t know how to break it?” Hammond guessed.
Dean shook his head. “Oh, we know how,” he assured coolly.
“The problem is we only know of one way to do it and it requires two elements,” Sam explained more fully. “We need the blood of a victim, which isn’t hard to come by,” he continued directing a hand at Dean. “The second half is much more difficult. We need blood from the lineage that originally created the seal.”
Silence settled over the conference room for several long minutes as the gravity of their problem finally sunk in. Dean shifted uncomfortable in his seat but forced himself to wait for the General’s logical next question. Thankfully, he wasn’t made to wait long.
“There’s no other way to break it?”
“None that we’ve been able to find,” Sam confirmed.
“Can’t we just leave the demon where it is?” O’Neill asked after a beat.
Dean shook his head immediately. “That’s not a permanent solution. If something breaks the devil’s trap, the killings are just going to start right back up again.”
“What are our chances of finding someone of this lineage among Earth’s population?” Hammond asked his attention shifting to Samantha Carter and Daniel.
They shared a brief glance. “Astronomically small, Sir. The population’s too dispersed.”
“There’s also the problem of getting the members of the tribe to help us,” Daniel pointed out speaking quickly. “Considering the way they’ve been treated over the years, they aren’t exactly forth coming with their rituals and old ways.”
Samantha nodded in agreement. “Maybe if we had several years…” she trailed of with a shrug.
Something in what Carter had said clearly got Daniel thinking as he began leafing through his files. “Did you carbon date the artifact?” he asked, blue eyes still searching his papers.
“Yes,” she replied, “what are you thinking?”
Daniel pulled a page from the stack in front of him. “At least 1100 AD,” he muttered to himself.
Dean shifted to the edge of his seat, forcing himself to sit a little straighter and finding the new position removed some of the pressure from his ribs. “Don’t leave us hanging,” he said, tapping his fingers against the table.
Daniel’s expression began thoughtful as he leaned back in his chair, the slip of paper hanging loosely from his fingers. “What about P4X-495?” he finally suggested.
“What about it?” Jack was fast to return.
“The Gou’ald took people from all over Earth, enslaving them on different planets,” Dr. Jackson said, looking at Sam and Dean. “It’s possible we may be able to find a descendant of whoever created the seal.”
“Does the line need to be direct?” Carter asked, looking across the table. “Father to son? Or would any relative from the initial line be enough?”
“If they’re ultimately from the same bloodline that’s all we need,” Sam confirmed.
“Dr. Jackson, you’re suggesting that the Natives of P4X-495 will have a direct relation to whoever created this seal?” General Hammond spoke up, his right hand gesturing towards the image still shining against the far wall.
“Yes,” Daniel said, first quite simply but his quick intake in breath signaled much more to follow. “The Shaman of a tribe is considered the most valuable member, an almost supernatural being, the bringer of fortune and prosperity. In the smaller tribes it’s not uncommon for all the members to be related, extended family units.”
“And they didn’t have a problem with incest?” Dean asked curiously.
Daniel shook his head. “No, the women of the tribes were traded in order to keep down inbreeding.”
“I hope they were nicer about it than the Mongols,” Samantha muttered, her expression briefly growing dark.
“What’s your plan once the seal is broken?” the General asked.
Sam brushed a hand through his hair, seemingly without notice. “There are several cleansing rituals, one of which should work.”
“The exorcism you tried when it first attacked might send it packing for good,” Dean suggested, though he realized there was a strong possibility the Kigatilik was tied completely to the artifact.
“We may be able to better than that,” Daniel spoke up thoughtfully. “Tiriaq may know best how to deal with this demon his ancestors summoned.”
“I take it he’s the Shaman of the tribe?” Sam asked curiously.
The archeologist nodded. “I’ve met with Tiriaq on several occasions, he’ll be willing to help us,” he said confidently.
“So,” Jack said sharply, drawing the attention of the room. “All we need is some of Dean’s blood and to bring the demon to P4X-495?”
“We’ll need to go with you,” the younger Winchester spoke up quickly. “Both blood from the victim and the caster needs to be fresh,” he explained.
Dean maintained a blank expression as he glanced sideways at his little brother. Sam was lying as smoothly as ever, leaving Dean to wonder why? A single glance out the reinforced glass gave Dean his answer. He wasn’t the least bit surprised that Sam wanted to step through the Stargate; they’d come this far why not go the whole way?
“No,” Hammond shook his head. “We can’t allow that.”
“You won’t be able to break the seal without Dean’s blood,” Sam told the General firmly, his tone implying clearly you couldn’t have one Winchester without the other.
Dean watched the older man consider his options and, for Sam’s sake, Dean hoped no one asked what they’d do if no victims were alive.
“Sir, I don’t see that we have much choice,” Captain Carter spoke up, folded hands resting against the table.
The older hunter dipped his head to conceal a tiny smirk. Apparently the complexity of a blood seal was strong enough to have them believing anything. He glanced back to the window seeing the top edge of the Stargate, unable to deny his own curiosity.
General Hammond turned his attention fully on Jack, “Colonel?”
Jack glanced down the table as he spoke. “Well sir, they’ve already signed the nondisclosure agreements,” he drawled, head cocking to the side slightly as he eyed them both. “So long as they can both follow the proper chain of command…” he left the statement hanging.
“Alright,” Hammond spoke finally. “SG-1, you have a go.”
Thanks for reading!
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