SPN FIC - Legend (Part Fourteen: Deanna and Samuel)
I'd heard whispered bits of the story since I was a kid. Just after Halloween, back in '83, the demon Azazel had crept into the nursery of a baby boy, intending to drip blood into the child's mouth and turn him into demon spawn. But Mary Campbell was waiting for him. She had a gun a stranger had brought to her family ten years before: a gun that could kill anything. She used it to kill Azazel that night. Saved her child. Then she disappeared.
Legends are told in bits and pieces, spread by word of mouth over the years. This is the story of Mary Campbell's family: the husband to whom she told the truth of who she was. The son who grieved the loss of her so deeply that he spent half his life on the road alone, searching for her. And the son who found success, and love, and peace ... until things went a little bit sideways.
Part One: Dean and Jo
Part Two: Dean, Sam, and Jessica
Part Three: John and Deacon
Part Four: Missouri and Pamela
Part Five: Sam and Dean
Part Six: John, Mary, Dean and Sam
Part Seven: Dean and Pamela
Part Eight: Deanna and Samuel
Part Nine: Sam and Missouri
Part Ten: John and Dean
Part Eleven: The Intruder
Part Twelve: Sam, Meg, and Samuel
Part Thirteen: Dean, the Hellhound, and Deanna
Coming this weekend:
Part Fifteen: The Legend
Part Sixteen: Dean and Jo (a/k/a, The Finale)
CHARACTERS: Deanna, Samuel, Dean, Sam, John, Missouri, Meg
GENRE: Gen (AU)
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: None
LENGTH: 990 words
LEGEND
By Carol Davis
Fourteen: Deanna and Samuel
A lot of years have gone by. Deanna knows that, because Mary's sons are grown men now, and they hadn't yet been born on the night the demon came.
The night the demon killed her.
She should have been stronger, she thinks; should have been more like Samuel. Should have held her silence when the demon plunged the knife it stole from her kitchen deep into Samuel's belly and killed him. Instead, she cried out, and lost whatever chance she might have had to reach Colt's special gun.
She could have ended everything then, if she'd been stronger.
If she'd been faster, smarter, she could have saved her husband. Could have used Colt's gun to kill the demon. Save herself, and her family.
Instead, she was slow. Foolish.
(No.)
She looks across the room at Samuel, and it seems to her that she's never seen a look of such deep regret, such unending sorrow, written on his face. She loved him on the night they died, would have given her life for his own - but they were both too slow. Too foolish. Too uninformed and complacent, maybe.
Maybe nothing worse than that.
(Not your fault.)
(We should have known better. Done better.)
There's a tableau laid out in front of them now: Mary's husband and her sons. A woman who is precious to them, and one who is a stranger. Everything is still and silent for a moment, as if she and Samuel have found a way to stop time in its tracks.
Something has, she realizes, but it's not them.
Then one sound comes back: the baying and snarling of that dog.
(Hellhound.)
She shudders at that - at the word itself, and the fact that Samuel could identify the sound so quickly, so assuredly.
(We should have -)
(We still can.)
This demon, this thing that calls itself Meg - its parent killed Samuel with a knife thrust deep into his gut. Sam has repaid the favor, it seems, because there's a blade thrust deep into the gut of the body the Meg-thing wore to reach this house. Their house. The place she and Sam and Mary were a family together.
It might all have been so different, she thinks. She and Sam might still live here. Mary and her husband might have come here on holidays like this one: just the two of them at first, and then later, with their sons.
It might have all been…
(That's done, Deanna.)
(I know. But -)
The demon's weak now. The three living men might not see that, or maybe they don't believe it, which would be to their credit. But the woman sees it, the black woman who's become so dear to them since Mary left. There's something else that woman should understand: that the old silver knife Mary's son brought here is more than just a knife. More than the stainless-steel blade this demon's parent stole out of the kitchen all those years ago.
In this small gap of silence, between one instant of time and the next, Deanna sends that thought to Missouri Mosely.
How Deanna herself knows what that knife is, she isn't sure. But then, she hasn't been sure of anything for a long time now.
When she looks over at her husband, he's smiling.
She loves this man, she thinks.
He was not the kindest man she could have found, or the gentlest. He was not the smartest, or the most capable, and he certainly was not the most handsome man who'd ever hoped he could catch her eye.
He brought a history with him.
But she loved him when she chose him, and she loves him still.
When time unlocks itself, her grandson is flinging himself through space, intending to knock Missouri Mosely away from the demon - but that's the wrong thing to do. It won't save anyone. Deanna thinks of cold hands circling her neck, of an instant of pain followed by darkness, and she reaches out to shove her grandson out of harm's way. Years ago (though in a way it seems to have happened only minutes ago) she was too slow, too nervous, and because of that, a demon destroyed her family, then escaped into the night.
It has spawn, she thinks, and the thought makes her sick.
That dog is at the door, snarling and clawing and battering its way in. The demon is drawing it here, and if it succeeds, if that hell-beast manages to break down the door, what remains of her family will die as quickly as she and Samuel did.
Missouri Mosely heard her a minute ago, when she said
(Let it in.)
What she meant - and the woman Deanna's family loves so dearly understands this - was
(Let it think it can get in.)
She didn't mean the dog.
When Missouri hesitated, Deanna told her (We'll help you.) and (It's time.).
Time moves quickly now, with the voice of Mary's son chanting ancient Latin weaving through and under and over and around the infernal snarling of the dog, with Missouri saying "Come" and Dean crying out in horror and rage; Dean flying through the air and then collapsing to the floor when Deanna shoves him aside. Mary's husband grabs for a weapon, as does young Sam, who hands a gun to his brother as he lifts him up to his feet, all of it as immediate and determined as Deanna had not been on the night she died.
When she looks over at Samuel, he seems satisfied.
(She's back.)
(I know.)
"You turn her LOOSE and do it NOW," Missouri Mosely tells the demon. "You come right here and deal with ME."
(With US.)
All of them - human and demon, living and dead - turn toward the door as it begins to splinter and give way.
They all hear the blast of gunfire from outside, and that infernal dog's shriek of pain.
(It's time.)
(Yes. At last.)
* * * * *
Legends are told in bits and pieces, spread by word of mouth over the years. This is the story of Mary Campbell's family: the husband to whom she told the truth of who she was. The son who grieved the loss of her so deeply that he spent half his life on the road alone, searching for her. And the son who found success, and love, and peace ... until things went a little bit sideways.
Part One: Dean and Jo
Part Two: Dean, Sam, and Jessica
Part Three: John and Deacon
Part Four: Missouri and Pamela
Part Five: Sam and Dean
Part Six: John, Mary, Dean and Sam
Part Seven: Dean and Pamela
Part Eight: Deanna and Samuel
Part Nine: Sam and Missouri
Part Ten: John and Dean
Part Eleven: The Intruder
Part Twelve: Sam, Meg, and Samuel
Part Thirteen: Dean, the Hellhound, and Deanna
Coming this weekend:
Part Fifteen: The Legend
Part Sixteen: Dean and Jo (a/k/a, The Finale)
CHARACTERS: Deanna, Samuel, Dean, Sam, John, Missouri, Meg
GENRE: Gen (AU)
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: None
LENGTH: 990 words
LEGEND
By Carol Davis
Fourteen: Deanna and Samuel
A lot of years have gone by. Deanna knows that, because Mary's sons are grown men now, and they hadn't yet been born on the night the demon came.
The night the demon killed her.
She should have been stronger, she thinks; should have been more like Samuel. Should have held her silence when the demon plunged the knife it stole from her kitchen deep into Samuel's belly and killed him. Instead, she cried out, and lost whatever chance she might have had to reach Colt's special gun.
She could have ended everything then, if she'd been stronger.
If she'd been faster, smarter, she could have saved her husband. Could have used Colt's gun to kill the demon. Save herself, and her family.
Instead, she was slow. Foolish.
(No.)
She looks across the room at Samuel, and it seems to her that she's never seen a look of such deep regret, such unending sorrow, written on his face. She loved him on the night they died, would have given her life for his own - but they were both too slow. Too foolish. Too uninformed and complacent, maybe.
Maybe nothing worse than that.
(Not your fault.)
(We should have known better. Done better.)
There's a tableau laid out in front of them now: Mary's husband and her sons. A woman who is precious to them, and one who is a stranger. Everything is still and silent for a moment, as if she and Samuel have found a way to stop time in its tracks.
Something has, she realizes, but it's not them.
Then one sound comes back: the baying and snarling of that dog.
(Hellhound.)
She shudders at that - at the word itself, and the fact that Samuel could identify the sound so quickly, so assuredly.
(We should have -)
(We still can.)
This demon, this thing that calls itself Meg - its parent killed Samuel with a knife thrust deep into his gut. Sam has repaid the favor, it seems, because there's a blade thrust deep into the gut of the body the Meg-thing wore to reach this house. Their house. The place she and Sam and Mary were a family together.
It might all have been so different, she thinks. She and Sam might still live here. Mary and her husband might have come here on holidays like this one: just the two of them at first, and then later, with their sons.
It might have all been…
(That's done, Deanna.)
(I know. But -)
The demon's weak now. The three living men might not see that, or maybe they don't believe it, which would be to their credit. But the woman sees it, the black woman who's become so dear to them since Mary left. There's something else that woman should understand: that the old silver knife Mary's son brought here is more than just a knife. More than the stainless-steel blade this demon's parent stole out of the kitchen all those years ago.
In this small gap of silence, between one instant of time and the next, Deanna sends that thought to Missouri Mosely.
How Deanna herself knows what that knife is, she isn't sure. But then, she hasn't been sure of anything for a long time now.
When she looks over at her husband, he's smiling.
She loves this man, she thinks.
He was not the kindest man she could have found, or the gentlest. He was not the smartest, or the most capable, and he certainly was not the most handsome man who'd ever hoped he could catch her eye.
He brought a history with him.
But she loved him when she chose him, and she loves him still.
When time unlocks itself, her grandson is flinging himself through space, intending to knock Missouri Mosely away from the demon - but that's the wrong thing to do. It won't save anyone. Deanna thinks of cold hands circling her neck, of an instant of pain followed by darkness, and she reaches out to shove her grandson out of harm's way. Years ago (though in a way it seems to have happened only minutes ago) she was too slow, too nervous, and because of that, a demon destroyed her family, then escaped into the night.
It has spawn, she thinks, and the thought makes her sick.
That dog is at the door, snarling and clawing and battering its way in. The demon is drawing it here, and if it succeeds, if that hell-beast manages to break down the door, what remains of her family will die as quickly as she and Samuel did.
Missouri Mosely heard her a minute ago, when she said
(Let it in.)
What she meant - and the woman Deanna's family loves so dearly understands this - was
(Let it think it can get in.)
She didn't mean the dog.
When Missouri hesitated, Deanna told her (We'll help you.) and (It's time.).
Time moves quickly now, with the voice of Mary's son chanting ancient Latin weaving through and under and over and around the infernal snarling of the dog, with Missouri saying "Come" and Dean crying out in horror and rage; Dean flying through the air and then collapsing to the floor when Deanna shoves him aside. Mary's husband grabs for a weapon, as does young Sam, who hands a gun to his brother as he lifts him up to his feet, all of it as immediate and determined as Deanna had not been on the night she died.
When she looks over at Samuel, he seems satisfied.
(She's back.)
(I know.)
"You turn her LOOSE and do it NOW," Missouri Mosely tells the demon. "You come right here and deal with ME."
(With US.)
All of them - human and demon, living and dead - turn toward the door as it begins to splinter and give way.
They all hear the blast of gunfire from outside, and that infernal dog's shriek of pain.
(It's time.)
(Yes. At last.)
* * * * *