Demon's Year 05/?: Supernatural AU
Title: Demon's Year
Author:
yami_faerie
Words: ~5,000
Ratings/Warnings: Rated PG-13, or R if you're offended by the "f" word, language, some violence, spoilers for seasons 1-5.
Disclaimer: This isn't my world. I just like to imagine it is.
Summary: Dean has one year left to live before he goes to Hell. Meanwhile, he and Sam are being chased by the FBI, demons and even an escaped-from-prison Gordan Walker who wants Sam dead. Can Dean keep Sam alive before his Deal is up?
Chapter Five: Hoodoo Luck
"… missing persons have been turning up outside their original homes all across the US. All the age of twenty-three, and all apparently born in either May or June of 1983, each have been killed in various, gruesome ways. Some appear to have been dead for at least five months, while others range as recent as maybe a few days old. No one has any idea who could have kidnapped them, let alone killed them or returned their bodies."
- TV News Report, "Demon Game"
"I still find it incredibly bizarre that a demon would willingly rebuild the Colt and even provide target practice," Dean said as the elevator took him, Sam and Jo down to John Winchester's storage locker at Castle Storage.
"Yeah," Sam said absently, still wondering at Ruby's reaction to the idea of being shot or injured in any way. It wasn't normal for a demon to care about the condition of the body they were possessing, let alone be so willing to find and sacrifice their own kind to help humans. Why did Ruby care so much about her body? Who was she possessing, anyway?
"At least the Colt works again," Jo said, and Dean nodded as the elevator came to a stop. He pulled the grill up and slowly stepped into the room, Jo and Sam behind him, and all three carrying flashlights in their hands.
"So how are we gonna deflect the FBI's attention from Utah?" Dean asked after a moment.
Sam sighed. "I was thinking of maybe planting a false trail using a couple of old aliases - hey, there's blood on the ground."
"Also, no demons allowed," Dean said, looking down at the giant Devil's Trap on the floor. "There's two sets of footprints."
"One got caught on a trip wire," Jo said, stooping down to point it out. Sam followed the wire with his eyes and found a loaded gun right about chest level. He quickly reached out with his mind and froze the trigger to make sure there were no accidents. "I'm guessing this is something pretty typical of the great John Winchester."
"Dad was paranoid, yes," Dean said with a roll of his eyes. "But I really had no idea he set up a place like this."
The three of them stepped over the trip wire and slowly made their way further into the space. Sam caught sight of old weapons, filing cabinets and many shelves, along with a door leading to a back room. The chain locking it had been cut.
"Hey," Dean said brightly, "it's my first sawed-off."
"When'd you make that?" Jo asked.
"Sixth grade," Dean answered proudly. Sam turned to catch his brother's happy grin and Jo's eye roll. "Hey, Sammy…"
Sam caught sight of the next item Dean held in his hand. "Hey, that's my Division Championship soccer trophy from 1995!" He moved forward and took it from Dean's hand. "I had no idea he kept it…"
"John not the sentimental type?" Jo asked.
"Not after Mom," Dean said quietly. "At least, we never thought so."
There was a moment of silence.
"Why would anyone break in here?" Jo finally asked. "What were they looking for? I mean, the weapons are still here…"
Sam silently wandered into the back room, looking over the shelves and saw a spot clear of dust. "What are these?" Jo asked.
"Uh…" Sam stepped closer, looking at the other boxes on the shelves. "Curse boxes, built to contain cursed objects. These symbols are the binding magic, only one's missing." He reached out and ran a finger through the thick dust lining the clear space. "We need to call Bobby."
"What's taking so long?"
Finn looked up from his computer and met Gordon's eyes. "I put together a list of the dead bodies deposited around the country, but it occurred to me that there might be others out there who died before gettin' nabbed by demons, so I've been lookin' up others who fit the bill, y'know, maybe some o' them had contact with the Winchesters before they kicked the bucket."
Gordon frowned thoughtfully. "I can see the logic there," he said. "Find anyone interesting?"
"Two interesting people popped up," Finn answered. "First was a Max Miller, lost his mother in a nursery fire at six months old, same as Andrew Gallagher and Scott Carey, as well as Sam. He committed suicide in early March of last year after threatening his step-mom with a gun. Her statement was that she called two family friends to try and stop Miller, but he eventually shot himself in the head. Funny thing is, his dad committed suicide a few nights before this, followed by his uncle getting his head chopped off by his window a couple days later."
Gordon considered Miller's story. "All right. Who's the other interesting person?"
"Girl named Danielle Palmer," Finn said. "Well, her maiden name is Young, but she was married for nearly three years and a widow for one. Anyway, she was brought into a Wyoming hospital by two campers who said they'd been attacked, and that Palmer was shot and killed in the process. That was the same night all those demon sightings happened." He leaned back in his chair. "In fact, it was the closest hospital to where we now know a Devil's Gate is located." He met Gordon's eyes. "It seems that Sam Winchester's the only one of these psychic freaks that's still alive."
Gordon nodded. "All right, let's start looking into -"
"Actually, there's more about Palmer," Finn cut him off.
"What else?" Gordon asked with a frown.
"She was reported missing the night before Ava Wilson turned up dead," Finn said. "Also, her death has been marked by the FBI as a note of interest in the case of Dean Winchester and his little brother Sammy."
Gordon froze for a long moment before starting to smile. "The FBI wants the brothers?"
Finn nodded. "They thought Dean had died in St. Louis back at the beginning of last year after torturing and killing two people and injuring a third, even buried a body that was shot with silver bullets."
"Shape-shifter," Gordon dismissed. "How'd he come back to their attention?"
"Let's see…" Finn clicked on his laptop a few times. "He and Joanna Harvelle turned up in Baltimore last August, found at the scene of a murder before escaping. Then the brothers were spotted in Milwaukee back in January during a bank robbery that they supposedly took control of, and then Sam was arrested in Little Rock in March, but escaped from prison after two days. The hospital in Wyoming was the first sighting in nearly two months, but the interesting thing is they're aware the brothers spent about a month in Provo, Utah last November, although there was no suspicious activity. Palmer's death and the fact she's from Provo is the only link they have to connect them so far."
"Palmer was born in May of '83?"
Finn nodded. "Six days after Sam. Think she was one of the psychic freaks?"
"Had to be," Gordon said with a shrug.
"We goin' to Utah, then?"
Gordon considered. "Not just yet," he said. "If the FBI's taken an interest in her family, then we need to stay out or the way until we're sure they've moved on. The last thing I need's a manhunt accidentally finding an escaped prisoner lookin' into the same group of people they are."
Finn nodded. "So…?"
"We're gonna start with a visit to Max Miller's step-mother, see if we can't get the full story from her."
Finn nodded. "I'll get her address for ya."
Gordon nodded and smiled. "Good."
"That's it," Jo said, pointing to an old car. "Connecticut. Last three digits 880."
"Awesome," Dean said, pulling the Impala into the next parking spot. "They really shoulda blacked out their plates before parking in front of that security camera." He chuckled and shook his head.
Jo nodded in agreement as she slid from the backseat. "We takin' guns?" she asked.
"Yeah," Dean said as he and Sam emerged from the front seat. "We don't know what was in that box they took, and I'm not taking any chances."
Jo followed the brothers to the trunk when a small redhead came running towards them. "Ruby?" she said.
The demon slammed to a halt and grabbed Sam's arm. "I need to talk to you," she said urgently.
"We're kinda busy," Dean said, but Sam staved him off.
"I'll be fast," he said, "I promise. Go on without me." And he was off, following the demon over to a tall, shady tree.
"I don't understand why he's trusting her," Dean grumbled, handing Jo one of Sam's older Taurus'. She quickly checked that it was loaded and shrugged.
"I don't know what to tell you," she said quietly. "I mean, she got that gun working, she saved Sam's life when he was facing off against three demons at once, she's smart, and apparently other demons think she's a traitor." Jo met Dean's eyes. "Like it or not, she's got a lot goin' for her right now."
"Do you honestly believe that she still remembers what it means to be human?" Dean snorted. "Demons are manipulative bastards. They'd say whatever you wanted to hear until it's too late." He shook his head darkly. "She really shouldn't follow us around like this."
"So you don't trust Sam's empathy, then," Jo said as she followed Dean into the apartment building before them.
"Sam can tell that she's not being honest about everything," Dean said, "but he's also said demons are harder to read than humans."
"I thought that was only because their stronger emotions like hatred really showed up on his radar," Jo said.
"So what? You sayin' you think he's right, followin' her around and listenin' to what she says?" Jo could heard the anger in Dean's voice and fought to control her own temper.
"I'm saying," she punctuated, "that yes, he's four years younger than you, but he's still a grown-up and he has to start making his own decisions, especially with you getting ready to become hellhound chow in a little over ten months."
Dean blinked at her sharp words. "I didn't say -"
"I'm willing to work with Ruby because I trust Sam," Jo cut him off. "Do you?"
Dean didn't say anything as they headed up to the correct floor and entered the apartment listed on the old car's registration. He took point as they silently slid through the door.
"I'm tellin' ya, Grossman," one of the voices was saying, "I can't lose! This thing really works!"
Jo met Dean's eyes and gave him a quick nod to show she was ready, gun in her hands. Dean nodded back and then they were rushing the apartment, Dean shouting for the two men inside to freeze.
Both men quickly obeyed. Jo noticed that one had a bandaged shoulder and figured he was the one that got shot by the shotgun John had set up in his storage locker.
"All right," Dean said. "Give us the box, and please tell me you didn't open it."
Jo's eyes caught on an open container with symbols similar to the ones back in John's storage. "They did," she groused, "they totally did."
"What was in it?" Dean snapped, gun pointed at the injured man. His eyes flicked over to the coffee table in front of the threadbare couch. Jo glanced down and saw -
"Is that a rabbit's foot?" she asked incredulously. The uninjured man suddenly moved towards her and she pulled the trigger on her gun.
She missed.
In fact, she not only missed, but the bullet ricocheted off a radiator in the corner and slammed into Dean's gun, knocking it from his hand before hitting and breaking a lamp.
What the hell?
The injured guy rushed Dean and actually knocked him to the floor. Jo quickly aimed a punch at the other man's face, but she suddenly fumbled and tripped forward, and the man grabbed her around the waist and flung her over the couch. She crashed against the coffee table, blonde hair spilling over her face and causing her to lose focus as the wood underneath her broke. She pushed her hair from her face and stumbled to her feet, only to find that her Taurus had slid three feet away and the uninjured man was already bearing down on her. Jo stumbled and tripped, sending the contents of the once-coffee table everywhere and realizing that Dean was getting punched across the face by the other man.
Something was seriously wrong.
"Well?" Sam asked Ruby the moment they were out of earshot. "What are you doing here?"
"I ran into a group of demons outside of Salt Lake City," Ruby said.
"Utah?" Sam frowned. "What were you doing there?"
"Nevermind that," Ruby said, shaking her head, "we've got a problem."
"And what's that?"
Ruby sighed and gave Sam a serious look. "There's a lot of demons way more powerful than me or those ones in Nebraska that got out that night," she said quietly, "and they all know about you, Sam. They all want you dead, and the sooner they manage it, the better for them."
It suddenly occurred to Sam that with Azazel dead, there was no one left to keep the demons at bay. "Did you get any names?" he asked wearily, but Ruby shook her head.
"I was lucky to get away with just a broken arm," she said, lifting her left arm and pulling up her jacket sleeve to reveal some dark bruising.
"You should get that casted," Sam said, but Ruby shook her head once again.
"I can accelerate the healing process to a week," she said, "but Sam, you and Dean have got to be more careful."
"We have the Colt again," Sam started, but Ruby cut him off.
"You don't get it," she said, brown eyes looking at him intently. "There are demons out there who could make Neo's abilities look like child's play."
"You've seen The Matrix?" Sam asked, bemused, and Ruby rolled her eyes.
"My point is," she said, poking Sam hard in the chest, "the stakes are a lot higher now. Every demon you face is another chance that you die for good or Dean goes downstairs ahead of schedule."
Sam narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to speak when he heard a gun go off. "Shit," he muttered, looked over at the apartment building before facing Ruby again.
"Go," was all the demon said before Sam was off like a shot, thoughts centered first and foremost on his brother's safety.
Dean didn't get choked very often. That was normally Sam's thing, but today it seemed that it was finally his turn. He tried to fight back, but despite his injury, the man with his hands around his neck seemed stronger than he should've been.
Finally, Dean caught sight of something white out of the corner of his eye and he flung out his left hand, desperately trying to grab whatever it was in the hopes he could bludgeon his attacker's head with it. It seemed to be just out of reach, but Dean kept trying as black spots danced in his vision and his lungs started screaming for air.
His hand closed around the object.
It was furry.
Shit.
Only, he felt a strange surge of strength. Suddenly, it was all too easy to pry injured man's fingers off his throat and especially easy to aim a well-placed punch right to the man's bandaged shoulder. The guy cried out as he fell to one side, and Dean threw another punch to the guy's head, knocking him out.
"Dude," Dean gasped, righting himself.
"Dean!" Jo shouted.
Dean turned to see the other man was now holding his gun, pointing it right at his face, point-blank range. He felt a surge of panic over dying followed almost instantly by a desolate acceptance that he was going to Hell a lot sooner than he'd planned to.
The man smirked, let off the safety and pulled the trigger as Dean squeezed his eyes shut.
Chnk.
Dean peeked one eye open.
Chnk.
His gun had jammed.
My gun don't jam!
Just then, there were heavy footsteps and Sam burst into the room, immediately reaching a hand out and pulling Dean's gun from the robber's hand and smacking it into his own. A jerk of his head and the guy went flying into the wall, knocking down some shelves and collapsing to the ground, just as unconscious as his injured friend.
"You guys okay?" Sam asked.
"My gun jammed!" Dean exclaimed. "What the fuck!"
"Dean -" Jo said.
"No," Dean cut her off. "My gun don't jam."
Sam frowned, pointed Dean's gun at a wall and pulled the trigger.
BANG!
There was a moment of ringing silence.
"Seems to work fine to me," Sam said innocently. He glanced around the room, eyes landing on the opened curse box. "What was in it?"
Dean looked down at his hand, taking in the small, furry object and frowning.
"A rabbit's foot," he said, letting the little cord on one end wrap around his fingertips as he let the object dangle for Sam and Jo to see.
Sam frowned.
"It's cursed."
Sam looked over his shoulder as Ruby entered the room.
"Come again?" Dean asked.
"It's cursed," Ruby repeated. "I can see the enchantments on it." She moved closer, eyes narrowed as she stared at the small foot. "Good luck when it's in your possession," she murmured, "but lose it…" She looked up at Dean. "I think your luck goes deadly bad if you lose it."
Dean stared at Ruby for a moment before groaning in exasperation.
"Can we destroy it?" Jo asked.
"I don't know," Ruby said, "the magic I did was clear back in the Dark Ages, remember? I'm not so familiar with this - is it hoodoo?" Everyone shrugged. "Anyway, I'd have to research it." She looked over at Sam. "Think Bobby has the right books?"
"Probably," Sam said, "but he's not gonna let you research on your own."
"So come with me, then," Ruby said, rolling her eyes. "Ease the man's paranoia."
Dean scowled, but he had to agree that it was probably for the best that an actual witch research curses and spells. "You both come back here the minute you find an answer," he said. Ruby and Sam both nodded, and then the demon walked over to Sam, grabbed his forearm and they both vanished without a sound.
"Is this you trusting a demon?" Jo asked after a moment.
Dean sighed. "This is me," he said, "trusting Sam."
Dean Winchester and his lady friend were easy enough to track after they left the apartment complex. She supposed it was a good thing she had showed up early to collect the acquisition from Grossman and Wayne, because it seemed they had managed to screw things up. Why had she used them again?
Right. They were close to Castle Storage and supposedly good at this.
Wow.
She tailed Dean in his classic car to a gas station, where the boy bought a stack of scratch cards and started going through, gleefully telling the girl (Jo Harvelle, she eventually figured out) how much money he was racking up with his new good luck charm.
After going through the first stack, Dean went to buy more while Jo talked on the phone to one Bobby Singer about the progress of Sam's research with someone called Ruby.
"I know she makes you nervous - well, demon or not, she's different from any other demon we've ever met."
A demon. Interesting.
"So Dean can't lose the foot, then. Don't worry, we'll be - just because everyone else has lost it doesn't mean Dean will, too." Jo sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "You don't think that guy who had it before will die, too, do you?" She scowled and groaned. "Well, help Sam and Ruby with their research, then!"
The conversation ended quickly after that, and she followed the Impala to a chain restaurant called Biggerson's. Good thing she had researched the area first and put together appropriate disguises.
"We seriously need to go to Vegas," Dean told Jo as they entered the restaurant. "I could pull a little Rain Man, y'know? Make some big bucks."
Jo scowled at him. "We really should lay low until the others find a way to destroy the thing," she said. "We don't need you losing the foot and going downstairs too soon."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam's the king of research. I'll be fine." He turned to the first man in uniform he saw. "Table for two, please," he said with a grin.
"Congratulations!" the man shouted.
"It's exciting, I know," Dean said.
"You are the one millionth guest of the Biggerson's Restaurant Family!" cried the man, who was probably the owner of the restaurant. There was an explosion of singing and photography flashes as he and Jo were presented with one of those oversized check things you only ever saw in commercials, proclaiming free food from the restaurant chain for a year, balloons and streamers falling from the ceiling.
Dean's grin grew that much wider while Jo looked dumbfounded. Best. Day. Ever.
"I don't know whether to be impressed or jealous," Jo said as they were seated in a nice window booth.
"And that's why we need to hit Vegas," Dean replied brightly. "Think of the money I'd make!"
Jo chuckled and shook her head. "You are something else," she said.
The two were given cups of coffee and left to their conversation while their food was prepared.
"How many scratch cards have you gone through?" Jo asked as she sipped her coffee.
"Lost count," Dean said as he scratched off the next in his (large) pile. " But I'm already up fifteen grand." He glanced up to see Jo had raised her eyebrows.
"Haven't you thought of anything else you could do while your luck is so good?" she asked after a moment.
"Get laid," Dean answered at once. "No chick will turn me down for anything."
"I thought you didn't need luck in that department," Jo said flatly. "Sam told me the other day about how he's already spent a week's worth of nights in the Impala while you've been getting lucky the last few weeks."
"Hey now," Dean said, "don't be jealous."
"Trust me," Jo snorted, "I'm not. Just…" She suddenly looked a little hesitant. "What about your deal?"
Dean lowered the penny in his hand quietly. "No," he said.
"But -"
"I'm going to die next year," Dean cut the blonde girl off. "There's no way out."
"But Sam and Bobby -"
"It was the first thing Sam told me when he'd learned what I'd done," Dean said. "He told me, 'I can't save you from this'. He already knows it, he did all the research after our Dad -" Dean cut off and looked out the window, good mood entirely forgotten.
"If he already knows there's no use," Jo said softly, "then why is he still trying?"
There was a long moment of silence as Dean tried to figure out what to say and how to say it.
"Because he thinks it's all his fault," he finally sighed, still not looking at the other Hunter. "He couldn't shoot Dad in the heart when he had Azazel inside him, he couldn't stop Azazel from possessing him or taking him away from us, couldn't stop the demons from feeding him their blood, couldn't get us out of that warehouse without Dad making that Deal to keep us both alive, couldn't save Dad… Sam thinks that he's to blame for everything that's gone wrong, and I can't convince him otherwise. I know my days are numbered, and I'm fine with it. I don't blame Sam for anything, but I can't make him forgive himself or stop researching."
Dean slumped in his seat and stared forlornly at the pile of scratch cards he hadn't gone through yet. "Sam won't consider the possibility of me using this good luck charm to magically fix all our problems, either," he added. "I know it's gonna cross his mind, but he already knows that this is it, so he won't say anything."
Jo was staring at Dean with a sad expression on her face, but one that wasn't pity. "I'm sorry," she whispered.
"It's all good," Dean said gruffly, snagging the next scratch card and getting to work. "Just - don't bring it up again, 'kay?"
He sensed, rather than saw, Jo nod, and silence fell over their booth.
"Can I top you up?" Dean looked up to see a pale girl with short, dark hair and a very pretty smile standing at their table with a pot of coffee in her hand. She made the Biggerson's waitress outfit look good.
"Yeah, thanks," he said, shooting the girl his most charming smile and ignoring Jo's eye roll. The girl smiled back and accidentally spilled some coffee as she refilled his cup.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," she quickly apologized, yanking out a towel to mop up her mess.
"Don't worry about it," Dean quickly said, keeping up the smile. "No harm done."
The girl shot him another smile before walking away. Dean leaned forward slightly in his seat as he watched the waitress go, hips swaying gently in the fitted fabric of her black shorts -
"You finished ogling the faker?" Jo asked dryly.
Dean blinked.
"What?"
"I didn't see her when we came in," Jo said.
"There were a lot of people congratulating us," Dean said, "it's possible she just didn't get a chance."
"Okay, then how is it lucky that she spilled coffee on the table?"
"Well, the shirt didn't really show off her cleavage, but -" Dean began as he lifted up his cup of coffee, only it slipped out of his hand and poured right onto his lap. Cursing, Dean leapt to his feet and shoved all his scratch cards across the table at Jo while he attempted to keep his wet jeans off the family jewels until the temperature cooled a little bit.
He and Jo stared at each other for a long moment.
"How was that lucky?" Jo finally asked, and Dean's hands dove into his every pocket.
The rabbit's foot was gone.
"Fuck!"
Bela tossed her wig into the nearest dumpster, letting her dark blonde hair tumble down just past her shoulders as she clutched the towel keeping her hidden prize tucked safely away from her skin. The 1.5 million Luke promised her was so going to be worth the trouble of retrieving the bespelled artifact she now possessed. With a cheerful grin, she slid into her car, started the engine and tore out of the parking lot.
It was a good day to be a great thief.
TBC...
Chapter Six