The Consequences of Prophesy Part Four
Part Three
Sam groaned and rolled over. Something was pulling him out of the exhausted sleep he’d fallen into almost as soon as they’d gotten the room. “Sammy, get your phone,” Dean groaned from the other bed.
Sam sat up slowly and fumbled for his phone. “Yeah?” he finally slurred out once he managed to answer the call.
“Sam?” it was his Dad’s voice.
“Dad?” Sam asked as he sat up groggily.
“Not quite, kiddo,” Azazel replied.
“Oh, sorry sir,” Sam said. “What’s going on?”
Azazel snorted. “You called me, Sammy,” he said. “What do you think is going on?”
Dean rolled over and sat up.
Sam blinked and shook his head. “Right, sorry. I’m still half asleep. Uh… it was the first seal, wasn’t it?”
“Sam!” Azazel snapped. “Start at the beginning!”
Sam took a deep breath. “Right,” he said. Quickly, he explained how he and Dean had shared the vision, and how Meg had explained what it meant.
Azazel made a small sound after he finished. “Yes, Meg is right,” he said. “The first seal was broken about five hours ago. That’s about when you shared the vision, right?”
Sam sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “But it wiped us out,” he said. “We both crashed pretty hard once we got to a motel.”
“Hmmm…” Azazel murmured. “Sounds like it’s just because the vision was of Hell, I’d say.”
Sam nodded, forgetting for a moment that Azazel couldn’t see him. “Right,” he said after a moment. “And it was some guy named Jimmy who did it?”
“Yes,” Azazel said. “Actually, the fact that you know that is what convinced me that the vision was genuine. Jimmy went to Hell over a month ago; he finally broke the first seal. Of course, we also have another problem down there.”
“What is it?”
Azazel snorted. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he said. “Our opposition is finally waking up, that’s all.”
“Opposition… heaven?” Sam asked.
“Exactly,” Azazel said. “Don’t worry; they want you and Dean alive for now.”
“Alright,” Sam said. “But that “for now” doesn’t sound good.”
“No, not really. But we can work it to our advantage. Don’t worry about it.”
“Yes sir,” Sam replied. “Is Dad awake?”
“Yes, he is.”
“We’ll be fine, Dad,” Sam said. “Dean and I are just tired.”
“He heard,” Azazel said. “He says he’s doing fine as well.”
“Thanks,” Sam replied. “Um…”
“Go back to sleep, Sam. Tell your brother to do the same. I need you sharp, Sammy. We’ll talk when you’re a little more coherent.”
“Yes, sir,” Sam said.
Dean looked at him. “What’s up?”
“We were right,” Sam said. “It was the first seal, and Azazel says that heaven is paying attention now.”
Dean blinked. “Well,” he said. “Let’s hope that they don’t come after us.”
“Azazel said they want us alive right now.” Sam cut himself off with a yawn. “I’ll tell you about it in the morning.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Dean replied.
Sam dropped his phone on the bed table before fumbling with the light. As he lay back down, he could already hear Dean’s snores starting.
Sam was still a little groggy as they made their way to the diner attached to the motel the next morning.
Dean looked about the same. “So, is he going to step up his plans?” Dean asked.
“I don’t know,” Sam said. He opened the door and they entered.
Out of habit, he glanced around. The diner was half full of the crowd of locals, truckers, and assorted drifters that they always saw in places like this.
No one paid them any attention, save for one of the truckers near the back, and he only glanced over when the door opened before returning to his breakfast.
Sam nodded once. He’d also noticed the back door, the door to the kitchen, and the many windows. He smirked. He was entitled to be paranoid; they really were out to get him.
They were seated and they ordered something similar to what they normally got- Sam had an omelet, Dean had pancakes. They made small talk until the table next to them cleared.
Sam took a deep breath. “He says Meg is right,” he said.
Dean didn’t even blink at the change of subject. “Alright,” he said. “Did he mention anything about you? And all the other…”
“I got the impression he’s working on it,” Sam said. “Anyway, I’m not going to worry about it. We’ve got something else to worry about”
Dean sighed. “Now what?”
“He said the opposition is starting to pay attention.”
“The opposition,” Dean said flatly. “You don’t mean…” he pointed up.
Sam nodded. “Yep,” he said.
“So they’re actually going to do something?” Dean said.
“About time, too, all things considered,” Sam replied. “I get the impression that they haven’t done anything in a long time.”
Their food arrived and they abandoned the conversation. “This is actually pretty good,” Sam said.
“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “I’d come back here if we come through this town again.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, so would I.”
They finished their meals in silence. “So, now what?” Sam eventually asked. Behind Dean, the door opened. Sam watched as an unfamiliar man walked in and cased the place as well as Sam had done.
Sam signaled to Dean that there was someone dangerous who just entered.
“Back on the road,” Dean said. “I mean, there’s nothing we can really do, is there?”
“Nope,” Sam said. “Just keep searching, I suppose.”
Dean frowned, but nodded.
The man walked straight toward them. “Sam and Dean Winchester?” he asked.
“Who’s asking?” Sam responded. He studied the other man. He looked like a trucker, but the way he held himself, it was obvious he was a Hunter. Sam wasn’t sure why he was wearing such an old baseball cap, though.
“Name’s Bobby Singer,” the man said. “I’m a Hunter, I saw you boys here, and I thought I should talk to you.”
Dean scowled. “We don’t talk to Hunters,” he snapped.
“Not even ones who know that that idiotic prophesy is bogus?” Singer asked.
Sam nodded slowly. “You’re not interested in Hunting us?”
“Not unless you give me a reason,” Singer said. He grabbed a chair and joined them at their table. “I heard what you boys did on that plane,” he said. “You two are pretty good. I’ve got a problem I could use some help on, and most of the people I usually work with can’t help me.”
“Thanks,” Dean said. “But we don’t Hunt. If something like that falls in our laps, we’ll deal with it, but we don’t go looking for trouble.
“I understand,” Singer said. “But this thing is attacking kids. I need someone to help stop it.”
Sam scowled. That would get Dean interested, not that it was likely that Singer knew that. If Sam admitted to himself, he wanted to take out anything that attacked kids too.
“What is it?” Dean asked.
“A ghost, as far as I can tell,” Singer said. He scowled. “Here in this town, before you ask where. I can’t figure out who the ghost is, however. And I saw you boys enter the diner, that’s how I knew you were here.”
Sam sighed. “I suppose this counts as falling into our laps,” he said to Dean.
Dean nodded. “Kids,” he said.
Sam looked at Singer. “You better tell us what you know,” he said.
Singer nodded slowly. “Most of my research is in my room,” he said.
“We’re only going to meet in public places,” Sam said. “No offence, Singer, but we don’t trust Hunters.”
“I don’t blame you, son,” Singer said.
“I’m not your son,” Sam snapped.
“Sorry, Sam,” Singer replied. “Bad habit of mine, I’m afraid. Do you want to meet in the library?”
Sam and Dean exchanged glances. “I think we can do that,” Dean said. “An hour?”
Singer nodded. “See you then,” he said. He got up and headed out the door.
They watched him go.
“You don’t think this is a trap, do you?” Sam asked.
Dean shook his head. “Singer’s one of the semi-reasonable Hunters,” he said. “Well, as reasonable as any Hunter can be. Besides, if a ghost is taking out kids, then we’ve got to help.”
“Softy,” Sam accused, but he agreed. They both had a strong soft spot for kids that were attacked by the supernatural or because of the supernatural. Sam supposed it was only natural, considering what had happened to them when they were kids.
Bobby Singer watched as the Winchester boys entered the library. He waited for them to find him, which didn’t take long at all. He had chosen a table well away from anyone, where they could talk freely, but where they could easily see all exits.
Bobby had not expected to see the Winchesters here, but since they were, he was determined to show them that not all Hunters were heartless, fanatical idiots like the ones who’d attacked them.
“So, what’s going on here?” the shorter one- Dean- asked as they sat down across from him. The taller one- Sam- dropped a messenger back beside him on the floor.
Bobby shrugged. “I haven’t got it all figured out yet, but I do know it’s a ghost.”
“What’s it doing? And where?” Sam asked.
Bobby sighed. “It’s attacking kids in the park,” he said. “Here’s the newspaper articles for the past ten years.”
“Only ten?” Dean asked as he took the stack of photocopies.
“It started about that long ago,” Bobby said. “One or two a year, then the last two years, eight kids have been attacked.”
Dean frowned down at the papers.
“How are they attacked?” Sam asked.
Bobby sighed. “The police don’t know,” he said. “It always takes place when there’s no adults around, and the kids who witness it can’t or won’t say much. But the ones attacked are always under seven, mostly boys, a few girls, and the bodies are found near the creek that runs on the left side of the park.”
Dean looked up. “The first body- the one from ten years ago- the police found traces of someone else there, it was ruled a murder, though never solved. Could he be the ghost?”
“I thought he was,” Bobby admitted. “But I salted and burned his bones and nothing changed. And before you asked, he didn’t leave any other remains behind.”
Dean nodded. “What if there was another attack?” he asked.
“I’ve checked, going back as long as the town’s been here,” Bobby said. “Nothing.”
Sam picked up one of the photocopies. “Only the first one had any evidence that there was someone beside the victim there?”
Bobby nodded. “There have been twenty victims so far, and none of them survived. I’ve got the police reports, and about half of them show signs of sexual assault, though there are never any… traces of the perpetrator,” he scowled. “I’ve been starting to wonder if it might be the same guy who attacked the first kid, but he just died before he could attack any more kids.”
“That’s a possibility,” Sam said. He was staring down at the papers. “Have you looked into that?”
Bobby shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “I burned the first kid’s bones five weeks ago. Three days ago, there was another attack, and I just got back.”
“Whoever it was, they were probably a local,” Dean said. “Sammy?”
“I’ll get on it,” Sam said, as he pulled a laptop out of the bag. “Dean, Singer, you two should probably concentrate on the kids; see if they have anything in common besides playing at the park.”
“They all went to the same school,” Bobby said. “But there’s only one elementary school in the area, so that’s probably not a connection.”
“Probably not,” Dean said. “But it could be, you never know.” Sam didn’t even look up from setting up his computer, but he handed Dean a pad of paper and a pen.
Dean took it without comment and spread out the papers in front of him. “Singer, do you have obits for all the victims?”
“All the ones that I could find,” Bobby said. “And you two can call me Bobby if you’d like.”
“I think I’ll stick to Singer,” Sam said. “Make no mistake, Singer, we don’t like Hunters, and you’re a Hunter.”
Bobby rolled his eyes. “I talked to Jim Murphy a few months ago,” he said.
Sam didn’t even twitch. “I figured he’d call other Hunters after I called him,” he said. “Ah, here we go,” he muttered. “Anyway, I’m hacking into the police station’s computers. I hope they have their reports on computer now. I want to read the first report, see how it’s different from the other ones.”
Bobby grinned, impressed. “I had to pretend to be a fed to get into their files, but they were on the computer.”
Sam nodded. “Alright. I don’t think they’ll know I’m here, but be ready to leave if they trace me.”
He turned his attention to the computer. Dean was making notes on the pad, looking through the reports as he did so.
Bobby sighed. Hopefully, a different point of view would show something he was missing. This was why he liked working with others when he had a difficult case.
Bobby turned to some of the other information he’d compiled on the case. “Singer? Can you look up the news papers between the first death and the second? If it was a local who died, then there might be an obituary in the paper. We can use that information to figure it out,” Dean said.
Bobby nodded and went to find the microfiche reader to check the back issues he’d searched through the last time he’d come to this town.
They passed the morning companionably, researching the case. Finally, Bobby stood up and stretched. “I’ve got a list,” he said. “What about you two?”
“Well, the victims don’t have much in common,” Dean said. “They all went to the same school, they all spent time at the park, and most of the mothers were members of the same gardening group.”
“Gardening group?” Sam asked, amused.
Dean shrugged. “Shut up, it’s a connection. Did you get the police reports?”
“Yep,” Sam said. “In and out, no problems. The reports are on my computer.”
“So, how about lunch?” Bobby asked. “My treat, and we can talk about what we found.”
The Winchesters exchanged glances and nodded. “Sounds good to me,” Dean said. “So, what’s good in this town?”
Bobby smiled.
Sam finished his salad quickly- he’d been hungrier then he’d thought- and smiled. “You’re right, Singer. This place isn’t that bad.”
“Much better then the diner,” Dean agreed.
“The diner does better breakfasts,” Singer said. He smiled as Sam and Dean exchanged glances. “I was here for three weeks trying to work this case out. I tried out pretty much all the restaurants.”
Sam chuckled. “I know how that is,” he said. “Anyway, what’d you two get?”
Dean pulled out his pad. “Not too much. Like I said, all the kids went to the same school. But since there aren’t any other schools in the area, I think we can discount that.”
“I looked into it last time,” Singer interjected. “There didn’t seem to be anything.”
“Alright,” Dean said. “We’ll set that aside for now. Fifteen of the moms were in a gardening group. They always entered the large vegetable competition in the local fair. The other four mothers weren’t in the group. One family lost two children, four years apart. Five of the families when to the local Catholic Church, seven to the Baptist church. The others weren’t religious, from what I can tell. Two of the victims were black, three were Hispanic, one Native American, and the rest were white. The families were all over the income scale, too. Fourteen of the victims were boys, six were girls.”
“And they were all taken when their parents or caretakers weren’t watching,” Singer said.
“Exactly,” Dean said. “They don’t seem to have anything else in common.”
“Targets of opportunity,” Singer replied. “Like any human predator. I actually wondered if that might be the case, but only the first victim showed signs that he was attacked by something human.”
“On that note, I’ve had a look at the case files,” Sam said. “And Singer’s right. The police couldn’t figure out why there are absolutely no traces of the assaulter on nineteen of the victims. But the first boy did have traces of someone. Some hairs, some body fluids, and traces of blood under the boy’s fingernails. The boy had defensive wounds, which the other victims lacked.” Sam sighed. “The police don’t know what’s going on, but they think it’s a serial pedophile, one who learned how to hide his tracks between his first and second victim.”
“They’re right, except the guy probably died,” Dean said.
“My cue,” Singer said. “There were several local deaths in between the first and second victims. Two of them are ones I want to look into. James Gracey, the local crackpot, had a massive heart attack five weeks before the second attack.”
“Local crackpot?” Dean asked.
“That’s nearly word for word what the newspaper said,” Singer said. He picked up a copy he’d made. “‘Gracey was known around town for his insistence that demons told him how to act.’ Basically, he thought that demons were telling him to do things. He kept them out using candles he made himself. He claimed that they couldn’t stand the smell of patchouli.”
Sam favored Singer with an unimpressed stare. “Most demons would rather possess someone then just influence them. And candles?”
“Like I said, the local crackpot,” Singer said. “He also spent a lot of time in the park.”
Dean shook his head. “Who’s the other guy?”
“The head gardener for the park, Mitch White” Singer said. “He was killed barely a week before the second attack. He got into a bar fight with a drifter and the drifter knifed him.”
“So, he died violently,” Sam said. “And he spent a lot of time at the park, obviously.”
“So, which is it?”
Singer shrugged. “I have no idea. We need more information.”
Sam sighed. “Maybe we should check the graves.”
Singer nodded. “That’s a good idea. I don’t think we’ll get any more from the families then I did last time I was here,” he said. He held up the notebook he’d used for notes about this case. Sam and Dean had both read the notebook.
Well, I’m all for checking out the park,” Sam said.
Singer shook his head. “Did that already. No sign of EMF unless the spirit is gearing up for another attack.”
“Which, if it holds to pattern, won’t be for at least another couple of months,” Sam said.
Singer sighed. “I know. If the pattern holds. It’s been decreasing over the past few years, which is how I picked up on it.”
“What about the graves? Have you checked them out?”
“Not yet,” Singer said. “Let’s see… they’re both buried in the same cemetery.”
“Great,” Dean said. “That makes things easier.”
Bobby watched as Dean pulled what looked like a battered walkman out of the trunk of his car. It was nighttime, and Bobby had already handed Sam a shovel and the salt, and Dean the gasoline. He carried another shovel and the map.
“You still have that thing?” Sam asked.
“Hey, it works!” Dean said.
Sam snorted. “Of course it works,” he said. “You built it. But I would have thought you’d have built a new one before now.”
“What is it?”
“EMF detector,” Dean said. “I built it a few years ago out of an old walkman. And I like this one,” he told Sam. “I finally got it right. I’ll build a new one if this one breaks beyond repair.”
Sam shrugged. “Fair enough,” he said. He turned to look at Bobby. “So, Singer, are they both buried in the same section?”
“Yes, they are,” Bobby said.
“Good,” Dean said.
They headed out, flashlights searching the markers for the two names they were looking for.
They found the crackpot’s grave first. The EMF detector didn’t even beep.
It took them another ten minutes to find the second gravesite, and the detector went wild as soon as they got it close to the grave.
“Well, that’s pretty clear,” Bobby said.
“I’d say so,” Sam replied. “Well, that’s it then, Singer. Let’s start digging.”
Bobby and Sam made quick work of the dig. It was nice to have someone else helping, and someone to act as a lookout made it easier to work as well.
Sam broke through to the coffin first, and he and Bobby finished uncovering the coffin in record time.
The first problem came as they opened the coffin up, and started pouring salt over the body.
Wind picked up, and Dean was flung back into a nearby headstone.
Sam scrambled out of the hole and grabbed the bag of salt. He turned cautiously, and when the spirit appeared in front of him, he flung at least half the bag at the ghost.
The spirit disappeared. “Singer, hurry!” Sam snapped as he scrambled for his brother.
Bobby grabbed the gasoline and scrambled out of the hole to pour it down. He lit the book of matches and dropped them in the hole. The corpse ignited just as the spirit reappeared in front of him.
He watched as the ghost reached out to him but went up in flames as it did so.
Sam and Dean came up behind him. Dean was moving a little stiffly, but otherwise fine.
“So, Singer…” Sam started as they filled in the hole.
“Yes, Sam?” Bobby asked.
“Why did you ask us to help?” he asked. “You could have easily figured this out on your own. You’re an experienced Hunter. There’s no way you wouldn’t have been able to handle the ghost.”
Bobby shrugged. “I suppose,” he said. “I did appreciate the help. Mostly, I just wanted to point out to you boys that not all Hunters are complete and utter morons.”
Sam frowned at him. “Why?”
Bobby sighed. “Because I know what’s out there. You two know what’s out there. If those jackasses who call themselves Hunters don’t stop, they’ll drive you to do what they want to stop. I don’t want that.”
Sam snorted. “I bet you don’t,” he said.
Dean glared at him. “We know there’s some Hunters out there who won’t do anything unless we give them reason to,” he said.
“Good,” Bobby said. “But you’ve never met any of us,” he said.
“Fine, Singer, you made your point,” Sam said. “Now how about we all go our separate ways and hope we never have to talk to each other again.”
Bobby sighed. “Boys…” he said. “Just know, my door’s always open if you need help. I know you’re not the evil some people say you are. I can help, if you need help.”
Dean snorted.
They finished in silence and carried the supplies back to the cars in silence.
“Come on, Sam,” Dean finally said once everything was packed away.
“Yeah,” Sam said. He glanced at Bobby one last time.
The Hunter just watched them go. He wasn’t sure if he’d done any good, but he’d had to try.
Sam sighed. “He wasn’t that bad,” he admitted.
“Yeah, but next time we see him, he’ll probably try to blow our heads off,” Dean pointed out. “Because the next time we see him, we’ll be knee deep in Azazel’s plan.
“Only knee deep?” Sam asked.
Dean snorted. “Fine, hip deep.”
Sam smiled. “It’s a shame, though,” he said. “Singer seemed like a decent guy.”
“Well, he shouldn’t be a Hunter if he wanted to win any points with us.”
Sam nodded, though Dean was staring at the road. “I guess your right. So, now that all that’s over with, how about we head for Saginaw?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Dean said. He reached out and turned on the radio.
Sam relaxed as the familiar guitar notes of Highway to Hell began.
Even if he did hate the lyrics.
Saginaw turned out to be a bust- Max Miller was missing. He’d disappeared in the middle of the day, and the only clues were the rest of the people in the diner- all of them dead and covered in sulfur. Max was not the main suspect only because the CCTV showed him backing away from a shadowy form before the thing grabbed him.
Sam and Dean exchanged glances at the news.
“Well,” Sam said once they were back in the Impala and heading away.
“It’s starting,” Dean replied. “I thought he’d start later on.”
“I guess not,” Sam replied. “Well,” he repeated.
“At least we know now,” Dean replied.
“This means that he’s almost ready to release Lilith,” Sam said. “Which means that soon enough, they’ll start breaking the rest of the seals.”
“I know, Sammy,” Dean said. “We better head back to the mansion.”
“Yeah,” Sam said.
Sam groaned as he opened the door to the mansion. He was just so tired. It was two days past the time they’d thought they’d make it, and he just wanted to go to sleep.
There didn’t seem to be anyone around as he and Dean reset the wards and stumbled to their rooms. Sam groaned as he set his duffle bag down on the floor. He was exhausted, that was the only reason he didn’t see the man standing in the corner of the room until he had closed the door and moved toward the bed.
He dropped to a crouch, but came out of it just as fast. “Dad!” he exclaimed.
“Your father’s asleep right now,” Azazel replied.
Sam sat down on his bed. “Right, sorry. I’m tired. Is something wrong?”
Azazel shook his head. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to check on you and your brother, after you both had that vision.”
Sam groaned. “Yeah, that damn vision,” he muttered. “Literally.”
Azazel chuckled. “Yes, true,” he said. “Sam, it’s a good thing. It did prove that Dean received some benefits from becoming one of my children, and you are getting stronger.”
“If you say so,” Sam said. He blinked and shook his head. “Dean did something to the car of a man following us before we headed to Michigan,” he said. “So the vision wasn’t proof, really.” He yawned. “Sorry, we barely stopped on the trip back from Michigan. Can we…”
Azazel sighed. “Humans and their limitations,” he muttered. “We’ll talk in the morning,” he said.
Sam nodded and lay down. He’d get up in a minute and get changed…
Azazel watched fondly as Sam and Dean worked around each other in the smallest of the mansion’s three kitchens to make breakfast. Neither of them had noticed he was watching, since he was currently hiding in the few shadows of the breakfast nook.
“Sleep in a real bed does wonders, doesn’t it, Sammy?” Dean asked.
“Yes it does,” Sam replied. “And it’s Sam!”
“Whatever, Sammy.”
Sam growled low in his throat, but he didn’t say anything. Azazel smiled. That was an old argument, one that the boys had been having since Sam had turned thirteen, at least.
They really were his favorites. And it wasn’t just because they were both powerful, it was also because they knew what he wanted, and they participated eagerly in his plans.
Though Azazel suspected he’d take a great interest in them even if they didn’t know.
He narrowed his eyes and stepped out of the shadows. “Feeling better, boys?”
Somehow, neither of them jumped or showed that they were startled at all.
“Yeah,” Dean said. He glared down at the eggs he was scrambling. “We’re fine,” he finished.
“Good,” Azazel said. “Because I’ve started weeding out the weaker of the children.”
“We know,” Sam said.
Azazel frowned at him. “We stopped by Saginaw. Max Miller was taken by something that left a lot of sulfur in the area. We figured it was you.”
Azazel chuckled. “Yes, it was. He and four others- you don’t know about them, they’re from outside the US- are in Cold Oak right now.”
“Cold Oak?” Dean asked. “Not the most haunted town in America?”
“Yes, Cold Oak,” Azazel said. “I figured an abandoned ghost town would be a good place for my version of Miss America.”
“Or Survivor: demon blood version,” Sam muttered.
Dean chuckled. “I like that,” he said. “So, when are Sammy and I joining the game?”
“You aren’t,” Azazel said. “Sammy… probably in a few months or so.”
“Why isn’t Dean?” Sam asked.
Azazel sighed. “Dean is… he was unplanned, and I’m still concerned that the blood didn’t do enough to make him suitable to our needs. Plus, I know you two wouldn’t kill each other, which would defeat the whole purpose of the death match. I’m not stupid, boys, I know you’ve talked about that.”
“True,” Sam said. “Are you going to want breakfast?” He asked quickly.
“I’ve already eaten,” Azazel replied.
“Alright,” Sam sighed. “I’ll be joining in for the final round, right?” Sam asked.
“Yes, that’s my plan,” Azazel said. “At least, at this point. But if the angels start acting up more, then I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“What are they doing?” Dean asked as he and Sam sat down to breakfast.
Azazel sighed. “A good number of them are laying siege to Hell.”
Dean choked on a bite of toast.
“What?” Sam breathed.
“Who would want to get into Hell?” Dean asked.
Azazel sighed. “The man you saw in your vision- Jimmy- is important to the events that will come. The angels need him, or they will lose the upcoming war.”
Sam blinked. “He’s that important? Is that why he broke the first seal?”
“It’s because he broke the first seal that he’s so important,” Azazel said. “And no, I’m not going to explain further right now.”
Sam and Dean glanced at each other, but Azazel knew they were used to that sort of response from him. They both shrugged and returned their attention to breakfast.
“But I am going to need your help soon, boys,” he said. “Just as soon as I find out where it is, I’m going to send you out to retrieve something for me.”
“What is it?”
Azazel sighed. “It’s a gun,” he said. “A very special gun.”
Sam blinked. “A gun?” he prompted.
Azazel felt John in the back of his mind, prompting him to explain.
“Yes,” Azazel said. “It’s an old gun. You see, in 1835, when Halley’s Comet was still visible, Samuel Colt built a gun. The story goes that he built it for a Hunter- a man like the ones after us, only on horseback. I know why he made it, and that was only part of the reason. He also made thirteen bullets. As long as those bullets have not all been used, that gun can kill anything.”
“Anything?” Sam asked. “Like… supernatural anything?”
“Anything,” Azazel said. “Though I suspect that it can’t literally kill anything, I have no proof. It can certainly kill anything that currently walks the Earth.”
Dean whistled quietly. “That sounds dangerous,” he said.
“Oh, it is,” Azazel said. “But it has more uses then that. That gun is also a key point to several of my plans.”
“Alright, so we’re going to find an old gun that can kill anything,” Dean said. “Well, that can’t be easy.”
Azazel sighed. “I have some ideas of where it might be,” he said. “It might take me a couple of months to confirm it, though. I need you two to stay here. It’s getting dangerous out there. I heard about your run in with that Hunter, and I don’t want anything to happen to you so close to the end.”
They didn’t look too happy about that, but they didn’t say anything.
“Think of it this way, boys. You can work on your abilities, try to wake them up.”
Dean brightened slightly, but Sam just looked even more upset. “Great,” he said. “More vision headaches.”
Azazel chuckled.
Trapped, he was trapped. Jimmy Novak panicked for a long moment before he took a deep breath and forced himself to focus. He’d probably done something wrong, and Alastair was punishing him. He tried to remember the last thing he could, but all he could remember was a brilliant light and a voice saying he didn’t belong in Hell.
He closed his eyes. Alastair was just trying to give him false hope, to break him down even more. Being Alastair’s student was hardly better then being his subject.
Jimmy nodded once.
He could handle this. He felt along the sides of his cage, and found they were soft, with what felt like hard wood under the padding.
He frowned. He was in a coffin? Maybe Alastair wanted him to escape from the coffin before his real punishment began.
Well, Jimmy hated small spaces, so he’d oblige him. Jimmy had learned how to handle pain, but he still hated to be held down.
He began battering against the top, eventually breaking through, only to be met with a fall of dirt. Desperately, for Jimmy could feel his oxygen running out (what oxygen? He was a soul, why did he need to breathe?), Jimmy dug through the dirt.
He felt a hand poke up into clean air, and he doubled his efforts. Someone grabbed his hand and helped pull him up. He gasped as cool air met his face. “What?”
“Hello, Jimmy Novak,” the man who helped him up said.
“Where’s Alastair?” Jimmy asked as he looked around. It looked like they were in a cemetery, one that had been flattened by some sort of explosion.
The man sighed, drawing Jimmy’s attention to him. He was taller then Jimmy by several inches, with light hair and blue eyes. He was older then Jimmy by a few years- possibly ten- and he was standing stiffly, as though he were much more serious then the blue jeans and comfortable flannel shirt he was wearing indicated.
“Alastair, as far as I know, is still in Hell, recovering from the injuries he took as he tried to prevent me from rescuing you.”
Jimmy gaped at the man. “What?” he asked. “We’re not in Hell?”
“No,” the man said. “Now come, we have to get out of here.”
“Why?”
“Because you are considered dead by the world, and I have much to tell you. I cannot do that if we are interrupted by someone.”
“Now wait just a minute,” Jimmy said. “I’m not going anywhere with you, not until I know who you are and where we are.”
“Currently, we are in the cemetery in Pontiac, Illinois,” the man said. “And I am Castiel. I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.” He looked completely satisfied by that.
Jimmy stared at the other man in shock. “You’re who?” he asked.
“I am Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord.”
Jimmy shook his head. “What would an angel want with me?”
“We have need of you, Jimmy,” the… angel said. “You have a part to play in what is to come.” He sighed. “First, let’s go. We have much to discuss, and I don’t want to do it here.”
Jimmy frowned at him, backing away. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
The angel lifted his hand and placed two fingers on his forehead. There was a moment of stomach twisting movement, and Jimmy stumbled back from the angel as they reappeared somewhere else.
Jimmy looked around. They were standing in some hotel room. “We can talk here,” Castiel said. “And we have much to discuss.”
“Now wait just a moment,” Jimmy snapped. “You say I’m not in Hell anymore?” he asked.
“You are not,” Castiel replied.
“Then I’m going to call my wife.”
“She will not believe it is you,” Castiel said.
Jimmy slumped down. The angel was right. He’d been in Hell for two decades, at least. There was no way Amelia hadn’t already moved on. And Clair was probably nearly as old as he’d been when he’d died.
“How long was I down there?”
“Twenty three years passed in Hell, while only a little over two months passed here.”
“What?” Jimmy asked.
Castiel nodded. “Time runs differently in Hell then it does on Earth,” he said. “You were only gone for two months.”
Jimmy closed his eyes. “That means that Clair… my little girl is still so young,” he said.
“Yes,” Castiel said.
“I have to go to them,” he said. He stood up and headed for the door.
Castiel grabbed his arm. “They are safe, for now. Would you drag them into danger just because you want to see them?”
Jimmy froze. “Danger?”
Castiel nodded. “We are about to enter a period of war with Hell,” he said. “And you, James Novak, have an important part to play in that war. I will stay with you and lead you through what you need to learn.”
“Why me? Why not someone who deserves it?”
Castiel looked at him. “You do deserve it, James Novak. Because God commanded it. He has work for you.”
Jess was not so patiently staring out the front window of Meg’s car. She wanted desperately to jump out and run to Sam, but they still had most of a mile to go, and it’d be faster in the car, winding road or not.
“Why is this place all the way out in the middle of nowhere, anyway?”
“Can you imagine us having normal neighbors?” Meg asked. “Believe me, we’re safer this way. There’s nobody to complain about weird noises, we have the freedom to do whatever we need to do, and we can set up some strong wards to keep Hunters from finding us. No, its better that we’re out here in the middle of nowhere.”
Jess sighed. “I guess you’re right,” she said. She reached up and fingered the amulet she now wore. It had been a gift from Meg after she’d cast her first successful spell. Meg had told her it marked her as Sam’s, and therefore, off limits.
“Of course I’m right,” Meg said haughtily. Jess started to laugh.
“So, what’d your parents say this time?” Meg asked.
Jess sighed. “Mom and Dad aren’t happy about this, but they seem to realize how much I need to do this. And it’s not like I’d be safe on my own yet. I can defend myself now, but any really good Hunter will easily take me out. And they might, just because of Sam, never mind the fact that I’m a witch now.”
“Actually, I meant the fact that you’re not continuing on to grad school.”
Jess grinned. “They just think I’m taking a year off,” she admitted.
Meg chuckled. “I see,” she said.
They turned a corner, and there was the mansion. Jess could see Sam waiting for her on the doorstop. Her boyfriend stood up as the car approached.
Meg stopped right in front of the door, and Jess had her door open almost as soon as they stopped.
“Jess!” Sam exclaimed as he caught her and spun her around before kissing her firmly. “Congratulations,” Sam finally said. “I heard you managed to keep your 4.0.”
Jess smiled. “Of course I did,” she said. “And I learned a lot more then just in my classes,” she said.
Sam frowned down at her before his eyes drifted to the amulet.
He blinked in shock.
“Jess… do you know what that means?” he asked.
Jess nodded. “Of course I do,” she said. “I told you, Sam, I love you. Giving myself up to you is nothing.”
Sam kissed the top of her head. “Jess,” he said quietly. He sounded stunned, but happy.
Jess smiled up at him. “That’s not all,” she said. “I’ve learned quite a lot.”
“Meg’s been teaching you?”
Jess nodded. “Knife fighting as well as a few spells.”
Sam grinned. “Good,” he said. “We’ll have to spar sometime.”
Jess grinned. Her boyfriend was awesome.
Dawn found Jess stretching out on the front lawn. She’d gotten in the habit of running a few miles every morning (actually, Meg had pretty much forced her to start running), and the grounds around the mansion would be perfect for a nice long run. She knew Sam and Dean had already started on their run, but they tended to go faster then she could keep up, and anyway, she liked running alone.
Jess checked that her new knife was secure in its sheath at the small of her back, and set off.
There was something very lovely about the location that Azazel had chosen for his safe house. Despite being occupied by demons for the better part of a century, the woods around the house were peaceful and healthy. Jess saw deer bolt away from her as she ran, as well as signs of other forest creatures.
She smiled. It was a wonderful area.
She lost herself in her run. As she finished her circuit around the house, she saw that Sam and Dean were waiting for her, along with John. No, not John. She had to remember that she was looking at Azazel right now.
“Good, there you are,” Azazel said. “As soon as the three of you are ready, I need to talk with you. I’ve found the Colt.”
Sam watched as Azazel spread a map out. “Before I explain where the Colt is, I want to show you something. Once we have the Colt, and you’ve won, Sammy, we’ll head here.”
Sam and Dean leaned over the map to study it.
John and Dean studied the map. “So, this is where you want us to go once we’ve found that colt?” Dean asked. “What’s so important about this corner of Wyoming?”
Sam was wondering the same thing. Jess looked like she wanted to ask about it too.
Azazel laughed. He took a pen and made five marks. “These five points are where Samuel Colt- yes, the very same man who built that blasted gun- built five churches. He connected them with private railroads.”
Sam leaned over and took the pen. He connected the marks into a familiar pattern. “It’s a devil’s trap. What’s in the center that’s so important?” Sam asked.
Azazel nodded at Sam. “The devil’s gate. A door to hell. It can only be unlock by using the same Colt. We open it, and release the army. We can release Lilith.”
“Lilith?” Jess asked. “You don’t mean- the first woman, the one who refused to bow down to Adam, the one who came before Eve? That Lilith?”
Sam glanced at her. He was shocked that she knew that. “I read about her,” she said quietly.
Azazel nodded. “Yes, that Lilith. She’s a very powerful demon, currently trapped in Hell, and if we can free her, she can begin the process of freeing Lucifer.”
Jess sat down. Sam realized that this was the first time Jess had heard the full plan. Sam glanced at her, worried about how she’d take it. She smiled at him wanly. “I had no idea,” she muttered.
Sam nodded. “Well, that’s the plan,” he said quietly.
She nodded slowly. Sam wasn’t sure what she was thinking. He just hoped she wasn’t regretting her decisions.
“So, this devil’s gate,” Dean said. “If it’s in the middle of a devil’s trap, then demons can’t escape,” Dean shook his head. “Oh, Colt was a…”
“He was very smart,” Azazel said. “I knew him quite well. Unfortunately, I was never able to tempt him to our side, or things would be very different. He was never a Hunter, but he had friends who were, and he trusted them more then he trusted the demon who offered him everything he ever wanted. I never attacked him, so we developed a very odd relationship- it wasn’t friendship, but he at least trusted me not to attack him or his family, even when he was doing all his best to stop my plans.”
Sam and Dean both snorted at that. “So, we know what we need the Colt for. We know where to go when we find the Colt. We just need that gun to do it. And you know where the Colt is,” Sam said.
Azazel nodded. “And that’s where you two come in- again. Or the three of you, if you want to help, Jess. I’ve found out where it is, but the man guarding it has too many protections against demons for me to just walk up to him and take it.”
“So you need us to get it,” Dean said.
“Yes,” Azazel said. “Daniel Elkins is reclusive, so he won’t recognize you on sight.”
“That’s a plus,” Sam said. “If we choose good fake names- no rock aliases, Dean- we should be able to get in with no trouble.”
“There is one thing,” Azazel said. “Elkins is a vampire Hunter, primarily. I think that one of the nests is going after him in revenge.”
“Huh,” Dean said. “I thought vampires were extinct.”
“Vampires are real?” Jess said.
“They were,” Sam said. “But I thought Hunters had wiped them out about fifty years ago.”
“Everyone thought that, Sam,” Azazel said. “But I made contact with a couple of nests when John and I hit the road. None of them are going to help us, but I didn’t really expect them to. Especially not the one group… they’ve stopped feeding from humans. Their leader is…” he shook his head. “No one should deny their own nature,” he said. “Fools.”
Dean snorted. “What, they go after cows?”
“Yes, actually,” Azazel said.
“Wow,” Sam deadpanned.
Jess snickered. “The look on your face, Sam,” she said.
“I loath stupidity, and what those vampires are doing is stupid,” Sam said. “Azazel’s right, no one should deny their own nature.”
Jess shrugged. “What about the other nest?” she asked.
“They won’t help us, they won’t hinder us,” Azazel said. “I suppose that’s the best I could hope for. You’ll be heading into their territory- Elkins has been Hunting this nest for years, and they’ve been tracking him in turn.”
Dean nodded. “So, since we’ve never met vampires before, how do we deal with them? Just in case?”
“Beheading works,” Azazel said. “And they don’t like getting stabbed by a knife covered in the blood of a dead man. Beyond that, just don’t get in their way, unless they get in yours.”
Sam and Dean nodded. Jess smiled wanly and nodded as well, a moment after that.
“Good,” Azazel said. “You’ll leave for Colorado in the morning.”
Sam climbed out of the Impala next to the old cabin. It looked trashed.
“Damn,” Dean said as he got out.
Jess unfolded herself from the back seat and eyed the cabin. “I’d say the vampires got here before we did,” she said.
“Looks like it,” Sam said. “But the gun might still be there.”
“Let’s get the flashlights and some weapons out of the trunk,” Dean said.
Sam glanced around the outside before they entered. He couldn’t see any sign of where the attackers might have gone, but that didn’t mean much.
Once inside, it was clear that the place had been ransacked. “So, this guy was definitely a Hunter,” Sam said. He was looking at the thick line of salt that lined the door. “And, apparently, whatever attacked Elkins wasn’t bothered by salt.”
“I thought we’d decided it was vampires,” Jess said.
“Well, no need to eliminate anything right now. After all, we wouldn’t mind taking out some Hunters and none of us are repelled by salt,” Dean said. “But you’re right, it’s probably vampires.”
Jess snorted. Sam smiled and let his girlfriend and brother bicker companionably. He headed back into the rest of the cabin. It was a large one, with all sorts of interesting odds and ends inside. “I’d love to spend a week with Elkins’ library,” he muttered. “And then, I’d probably have to torch a good portion of it.”
Dean and Jess either ignored him or didn’t hear him. Jess was still searching the main room, while Dean was upstairs.
“Hey, I found something!” Dean called out. He came down the stairs holding a box. “Look at this.”
Sam took it and opened it. There was a space for a hand gun, and several slots for bullets, but the box was empty. He counted them and came up with thirteen.
“It’s gone,” Sam said.
Jess took the box and studied it. “I think I can find it,” she said.
“A locator spell?” Sam asked.
Jess nodded. “Exactly,” she said. “It’s similar to using a spell to locate people, but it works on inanimate objects.”
“Awesome,” Dean said. “Sammy, have I told you that your girlfriend is way out of your league?”
“It’s Sam, and stop it,” Sam said. “I heard you the first hundred times.”
“I think we have what I need back in the car,” Jess said.
“Let’s get a hotel room,” Dean said. “We’re all tired, and I don’t want to talk to vampires, or whatever has the Colt, without a good night’s sleep.”
Part Five
Sam groaned and rolled over. Something was pulling him out of the exhausted sleep he’d fallen into almost as soon as they’d gotten the room. “Sammy, get your phone,” Dean groaned from the other bed.
Sam sat up slowly and fumbled for his phone. “Yeah?” he finally slurred out once he managed to answer the call.
“Sam?” it was his Dad’s voice.
“Dad?” Sam asked as he sat up groggily.
“Not quite, kiddo,” Azazel replied.
“Oh, sorry sir,” Sam said. “What’s going on?”
Azazel snorted. “You called me, Sammy,” he said. “What do you think is going on?”
Dean rolled over and sat up.
Sam blinked and shook his head. “Right, sorry. I’m still half asleep. Uh… it was the first seal, wasn’t it?”
“Sam!” Azazel snapped. “Start at the beginning!”
Sam took a deep breath. “Right,” he said. Quickly, he explained how he and Dean had shared the vision, and how Meg had explained what it meant.
Azazel made a small sound after he finished. “Yes, Meg is right,” he said. “The first seal was broken about five hours ago. That’s about when you shared the vision, right?”
Sam sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “But it wiped us out,” he said. “We both crashed pretty hard once we got to a motel.”
“Hmmm…” Azazel murmured. “Sounds like it’s just because the vision was of Hell, I’d say.”
Sam nodded, forgetting for a moment that Azazel couldn’t see him. “Right,” he said after a moment. “And it was some guy named Jimmy who did it?”
“Yes,” Azazel said. “Actually, the fact that you know that is what convinced me that the vision was genuine. Jimmy went to Hell over a month ago; he finally broke the first seal. Of course, we also have another problem down there.”
“What is it?”
Azazel snorted. “Nothing you need to worry about,” he said. “Our opposition is finally waking up, that’s all.”
“Opposition… heaven?” Sam asked.
“Exactly,” Azazel said. “Don’t worry; they want you and Dean alive for now.”
“Alright,” Sam said. “But that “for now” doesn’t sound good.”
“No, not really. But we can work it to our advantage. Don’t worry about it.”
“Yes sir,” Sam replied. “Is Dad awake?”
“Yes, he is.”
“We’ll be fine, Dad,” Sam said. “Dean and I are just tired.”
“He heard,” Azazel said. “He says he’s doing fine as well.”
“Thanks,” Sam replied. “Um…”
“Go back to sleep, Sam. Tell your brother to do the same. I need you sharp, Sammy. We’ll talk when you’re a little more coherent.”
“Yes, sir,” Sam said.
Dean looked at him. “What’s up?”
“We were right,” Sam said. “It was the first seal, and Azazel says that heaven is paying attention now.”
Dean blinked. “Well,” he said. “Let’s hope that they don’t come after us.”
“Azazel said they want us alive right now.” Sam cut himself off with a yawn. “I’ll tell you about it in the morning.”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Dean replied.
Sam dropped his phone on the bed table before fumbling with the light. As he lay back down, he could already hear Dean’s snores starting.
Sam was still a little groggy as they made their way to the diner attached to the motel the next morning.
Dean looked about the same. “So, is he going to step up his plans?” Dean asked.
“I don’t know,” Sam said. He opened the door and they entered.
Out of habit, he glanced around. The diner was half full of the crowd of locals, truckers, and assorted drifters that they always saw in places like this.
No one paid them any attention, save for one of the truckers near the back, and he only glanced over when the door opened before returning to his breakfast.
Sam nodded once. He’d also noticed the back door, the door to the kitchen, and the many windows. He smirked. He was entitled to be paranoid; they really were out to get him.
They were seated and they ordered something similar to what they normally got- Sam had an omelet, Dean had pancakes. They made small talk until the table next to them cleared.
Sam took a deep breath. “He says Meg is right,” he said.
Dean didn’t even blink at the change of subject. “Alright,” he said. “Did he mention anything about you? And all the other…”
“I got the impression he’s working on it,” Sam said. “Anyway, I’m not going to worry about it. We’ve got something else to worry about”
Dean sighed. “Now what?”
“He said the opposition is starting to pay attention.”
“The opposition,” Dean said flatly. “You don’t mean…” he pointed up.
Sam nodded. “Yep,” he said.
“So they’re actually going to do something?” Dean said.
“About time, too, all things considered,” Sam replied. “I get the impression that they haven’t done anything in a long time.”
Their food arrived and they abandoned the conversation. “This is actually pretty good,” Sam said.
“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “I’d come back here if we come through this town again.”
Sam nodded. “Yeah, so would I.”
They finished their meals in silence. “So, now what?” Sam eventually asked. Behind Dean, the door opened. Sam watched as an unfamiliar man walked in and cased the place as well as Sam had done.
Sam signaled to Dean that there was someone dangerous who just entered.
“Back on the road,” Dean said. “I mean, there’s nothing we can really do, is there?”
“Nope,” Sam said. “Just keep searching, I suppose.”
Dean frowned, but nodded.
The man walked straight toward them. “Sam and Dean Winchester?” he asked.
“Who’s asking?” Sam responded. He studied the other man. He looked like a trucker, but the way he held himself, it was obvious he was a Hunter. Sam wasn’t sure why he was wearing such an old baseball cap, though.
“Name’s Bobby Singer,” the man said. “I’m a Hunter, I saw you boys here, and I thought I should talk to you.”
Dean scowled. “We don’t talk to Hunters,” he snapped.
“Not even ones who know that that idiotic prophesy is bogus?” Singer asked.
Sam nodded slowly. “You’re not interested in Hunting us?”
“Not unless you give me a reason,” Singer said. He grabbed a chair and joined them at their table. “I heard what you boys did on that plane,” he said. “You two are pretty good. I’ve got a problem I could use some help on, and most of the people I usually work with can’t help me.”
“Thanks,” Dean said. “But we don’t Hunt. If something like that falls in our laps, we’ll deal with it, but we don’t go looking for trouble.
“I understand,” Singer said. “But this thing is attacking kids. I need someone to help stop it.”
Sam scowled. That would get Dean interested, not that it was likely that Singer knew that. If Sam admitted to himself, he wanted to take out anything that attacked kids too.
“What is it?” Dean asked.
“A ghost, as far as I can tell,” Singer said. He scowled. “Here in this town, before you ask where. I can’t figure out who the ghost is, however. And I saw you boys enter the diner, that’s how I knew you were here.”
Sam sighed. “I suppose this counts as falling into our laps,” he said to Dean.
Dean nodded. “Kids,” he said.
Sam looked at Singer. “You better tell us what you know,” he said.
Singer nodded slowly. “Most of my research is in my room,” he said.
“We’re only going to meet in public places,” Sam said. “No offence, Singer, but we don’t trust Hunters.”
“I don’t blame you, son,” Singer said.
“I’m not your son,” Sam snapped.
“Sorry, Sam,” Singer replied. “Bad habit of mine, I’m afraid. Do you want to meet in the library?”
Sam and Dean exchanged glances. “I think we can do that,” Dean said. “An hour?”
Singer nodded. “See you then,” he said. He got up and headed out the door.
They watched him go.
“You don’t think this is a trap, do you?” Sam asked.
Dean shook his head. “Singer’s one of the semi-reasonable Hunters,” he said. “Well, as reasonable as any Hunter can be. Besides, if a ghost is taking out kids, then we’ve got to help.”
“Softy,” Sam accused, but he agreed. They both had a strong soft spot for kids that were attacked by the supernatural or because of the supernatural. Sam supposed it was only natural, considering what had happened to them when they were kids.
Bobby Singer watched as the Winchester boys entered the library. He waited for them to find him, which didn’t take long at all. He had chosen a table well away from anyone, where they could talk freely, but where they could easily see all exits.
Bobby had not expected to see the Winchesters here, but since they were, he was determined to show them that not all Hunters were heartless, fanatical idiots like the ones who’d attacked them.
“So, what’s going on here?” the shorter one- Dean- asked as they sat down across from him. The taller one- Sam- dropped a messenger back beside him on the floor.
Bobby shrugged. “I haven’t got it all figured out yet, but I do know it’s a ghost.”
“What’s it doing? And where?” Sam asked.
Bobby sighed. “It’s attacking kids in the park,” he said. “Here’s the newspaper articles for the past ten years.”
“Only ten?” Dean asked as he took the stack of photocopies.
“It started about that long ago,” Bobby said. “One or two a year, then the last two years, eight kids have been attacked.”
Dean frowned down at the papers.
“How are they attacked?” Sam asked.
Bobby sighed. “The police don’t know,” he said. “It always takes place when there’s no adults around, and the kids who witness it can’t or won’t say much. But the ones attacked are always under seven, mostly boys, a few girls, and the bodies are found near the creek that runs on the left side of the park.”
Dean looked up. “The first body- the one from ten years ago- the police found traces of someone else there, it was ruled a murder, though never solved. Could he be the ghost?”
“I thought he was,” Bobby admitted. “But I salted and burned his bones and nothing changed. And before you asked, he didn’t leave any other remains behind.”
Dean nodded. “What if there was another attack?” he asked.
“I’ve checked, going back as long as the town’s been here,” Bobby said. “Nothing.”
Sam picked up one of the photocopies. “Only the first one had any evidence that there was someone beside the victim there?”
Bobby nodded. “There have been twenty victims so far, and none of them survived. I’ve got the police reports, and about half of them show signs of sexual assault, though there are never any… traces of the perpetrator,” he scowled. “I’ve been starting to wonder if it might be the same guy who attacked the first kid, but he just died before he could attack any more kids.”
“That’s a possibility,” Sam said. He was staring down at the papers. “Have you looked into that?”
Bobby shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “I burned the first kid’s bones five weeks ago. Three days ago, there was another attack, and I just got back.”
“Whoever it was, they were probably a local,” Dean said. “Sammy?”
“I’ll get on it,” Sam said, as he pulled a laptop out of the bag. “Dean, Singer, you two should probably concentrate on the kids; see if they have anything in common besides playing at the park.”
“They all went to the same school,” Bobby said. “But there’s only one elementary school in the area, so that’s probably not a connection.”
“Probably not,” Dean said. “But it could be, you never know.” Sam didn’t even look up from setting up his computer, but he handed Dean a pad of paper and a pen.
Dean took it without comment and spread out the papers in front of him. “Singer, do you have obits for all the victims?”
“All the ones that I could find,” Bobby said. “And you two can call me Bobby if you’d like.”
“I think I’ll stick to Singer,” Sam said. “Make no mistake, Singer, we don’t like Hunters, and you’re a Hunter.”
Bobby rolled his eyes. “I talked to Jim Murphy a few months ago,” he said.
Sam didn’t even twitch. “I figured he’d call other Hunters after I called him,” he said. “Ah, here we go,” he muttered. “Anyway, I’m hacking into the police station’s computers. I hope they have their reports on computer now. I want to read the first report, see how it’s different from the other ones.”
Bobby grinned, impressed. “I had to pretend to be a fed to get into their files, but they were on the computer.”
Sam nodded. “Alright. I don’t think they’ll know I’m here, but be ready to leave if they trace me.”
He turned his attention to the computer. Dean was making notes on the pad, looking through the reports as he did so.
Bobby sighed. Hopefully, a different point of view would show something he was missing. This was why he liked working with others when he had a difficult case.
Bobby turned to some of the other information he’d compiled on the case. “Singer? Can you look up the news papers between the first death and the second? If it was a local who died, then there might be an obituary in the paper. We can use that information to figure it out,” Dean said.
Bobby nodded and went to find the microfiche reader to check the back issues he’d searched through the last time he’d come to this town.
They passed the morning companionably, researching the case. Finally, Bobby stood up and stretched. “I’ve got a list,” he said. “What about you two?”
“Well, the victims don’t have much in common,” Dean said. “They all went to the same school, they all spent time at the park, and most of the mothers were members of the same gardening group.”
“Gardening group?” Sam asked, amused.
Dean shrugged. “Shut up, it’s a connection. Did you get the police reports?”
“Yep,” Sam said. “In and out, no problems. The reports are on my computer.”
“So, how about lunch?” Bobby asked. “My treat, and we can talk about what we found.”
The Winchesters exchanged glances and nodded. “Sounds good to me,” Dean said. “So, what’s good in this town?”
Bobby smiled.
Sam finished his salad quickly- he’d been hungrier then he’d thought- and smiled. “You’re right, Singer. This place isn’t that bad.”
“Much better then the diner,” Dean agreed.
“The diner does better breakfasts,” Singer said. He smiled as Sam and Dean exchanged glances. “I was here for three weeks trying to work this case out. I tried out pretty much all the restaurants.”
Sam chuckled. “I know how that is,” he said. “Anyway, what’d you two get?”
Dean pulled out his pad. “Not too much. Like I said, all the kids went to the same school. But since there aren’t any other schools in the area, I think we can discount that.”
“I looked into it last time,” Singer interjected. “There didn’t seem to be anything.”
“Alright,” Dean said. “We’ll set that aside for now. Fifteen of the moms were in a gardening group. They always entered the large vegetable competition in the local fair. The other four mothers weren’t in the group. One family lost two children, four years apart. Five of the families when to the local Catholic Church, seven to the Baptist church. The others weren’t religious, from what I can tell. Two of the victims were black, three were Hispanic, one Native American, and the rest were white. The families were all over the income scale, too. Fourteen of the victims were boys, six were girls.”
“And they were all taken when their parents or caretakers weren’t watching,” Singer said.
“Exactly,” Dean said. “They don’t seem to have anything else in common.”
“Targets of opportunity,” Singer replied. “Like any human predator. I actually wondered if that might be the case, but only the first victim showed signs that he was attacked by something human.”
“On that note, I’ve had a look at the case files,” Sam said. “And Singer’s right. The police couldn’t figure out why there are absolutely no traces of the assaulter on nineteen of the victims. But the first boy did have traces of someone. Some hairs, some body fluids, and traces of blood under the boy’s fingernails. The boy had defensive wounds, which the other victims lacked.” Sam sighed. “The police don’t know what’s going on, but they think it’s a serial pedophile, one who learned how to hide his tracks between his first and second victim.”
“They’re right, except the guy probably died,” Dean said.
“My cue,” Singer said. “There were several local deaths in between the first and second victims. Two of them are ones I want to look into. James Gracey, the local crackpot, had a massive heart attack five weeks before the second attack.”
“Local crackpot?” Dean asked.
“That’s nearly word for word what the newspaper said,” Singer said. He picked up a copy he’d made. “‘Gracey was known around town for his insistence that demons told him how to act.’ Basically, he thought that demons were telling him to do things. He kept them out using candles he made himself. He claimed that they couldn’t stand the smell of patchouli.”
Sam favored Singer with an unimpressed stare. “Most demons would rather possess someone then just influence them. And candles?”
“Like I said, the local crackpot,” Singer said. “He also spent a lot of time in the park.”
Dean shook his head. “Who’s the other guy?”
“The head gardener for the park, Mitch White” Singer said. “He was killed barely a week before the second attack. He got into a bar fight with a drifter and the drifter knifed him.”
“So, he died violently,” Sam said. “And he spent a lot of time at the park, obviously.”
“So, which is it?”
Singer shrugged. “I have no idea. We need more information.”
Sam sighed. “Maybe we should check the graves.”
Singer nodded. “That’s a good idea. I don’t think we’ll get any more from the families then I did last time I was here,” he said. He held up the notebook he’d used for notes about this case. Sam and Dean had both read the notebook.
Well, I’m all for checking out the park,” Sam said.
Singer shook his head. “Did that already. No sign of EMF unless the spirit is gearing up for another attack.”
“Which, if it holds to pattern, won’t be for at least another couple of months,” Sam said.
Singer sighed. “I know. If the pattern holds. It’s been decreasing over the past few years, which is how I picked up on it.”
“What about the graves? Have you checked them out?”
“Not yet,” Singer said. “Let’s see… they’re both buried in the same cemetery.”
“Great,” Dean said. “That makes things easier.”
Bobby watched as Dean pulled what looked like a battered walkman out of the trunk of his car. It was nighttime, and Bobby had already handed Sam a shovel and the salt, and Dean the gasoline. He carried another shovel and the map.
“You still have that thing?” Sam asked.
“Hey, it works!” Dean said.
Sam snorted. “Of course it works,” he said. “You built it. But I would have thought you’d have built a new one before now.”
“What is it?”
“EMF detector,” Dean said. “I built it a few years ago out of an old walkman. And I like this one,” he told Sam. “I finally got it right. I’ll build a new one if this one breaks beyond repair.”
Sam shrugged. “Fair enough,” he said. He turned to look at Bobby. “So, Singer, are they both buried in the same section?”
“Yes, they are,” Bobby said.
“Good,” Dean said.
They headed out, flashlights searching the markers for the two names they were looking for.
They found the crackpot’s grave first. The EMF detector didn’t even beep.
It took them another ten minutes to find the second gravesite, and the detector went wild as soon as they got it close to the grave.
“Well, that’s pretty clear,” Bobby said.
“I’d say so,” Sam replied. “Well, that’s it then, Singer. Let’s start digging.”
Bobby and Sam made quick work of the dig. It was nice to have someone else helping, and someone to act as a lookout made it easier to work as well.
Sam broke through to the coffin first, and he and Bobby finished uncovering the coffin in record time.
The first problem came as they opened the coffin up, and started pouring salt over the body.
Wind picked up, and Dean was flung back into a nearby headstone.
Sam scrambled out of the hole and grabbed the bag of salt. He turned cautiously, and when the spirit appeared in front of him, he flung at least half the bag at the ghost.
The spirit disappeared. “Singer, hurry!” Sam snapped as he scrambled for his brother.
Bobby grabbed the gasoline and scrambled out of the hole to pour it down. He lit the book of matches and dropped them in the hole. The corpse ignited just as the spirit reappeared in front of him.
He watched as the ghost reached out to him but went up in flames as it did so.
Sam and Dean came up behind him. Dean was moving a little stiffly, but otherwise fine.
“So, Singer…” Sam started as they filled in the hole.
“Yes, Sam?” Bobby asked.
“Why did you ask us to help?” he asked. “You could have easily figured this out on your own. You’re an experienced Hunter. There’s no way you wouldn’t have been able to handle the ghost.”
Bobby shrugged. “I suppose,” he said. “I did appreciate the help. Mostly, I just wanted to point out to you boys that not all Hunters are complete and utter morons.”
Sam frowned at him. “Why?”
Bobby sighed. “Because I know what’s out there. You two know what’s out there. If those jackasses who call themselves Hunters don’t stop, they’ll drive you to do what they want to stop. I don’t want that.”
Sam snorted. “I bet you don’t,” he said.
Dean glared at him. “We know there’s some Hunters out there who won’t do anything unless we give them reason to,” he said.
“Good,” Bobby said. “But you’ve never met any of us,” he said.
“Fine, Singer, you made your point,” Sam said. “Now how about we all go our separate ways and hope we never have to talk to each other again.”
Bobby sighed. “Boys…” he said. “Just know, my door’s always open if you need help. I know you’re not the evil some people say you are. I can help, if you need help.”
Dean snorted.
They finished in silence and carried the supplies back to the cars in silence.
“Come on, Sam,” Dean finally said once everything was packed away.
“Yeah,” Sam said. He glanced at Bobby one last time.
The Hunter just watched them go. He wasn’t sure if he’d done any good, but he’d had to try.
Sam sighed. “He wasn’t that bad,” he admitted.
“Yeah, but next time we see him, he’ll probably try to blow our heads off,” Dean pointed out. “Because the next time we see him, we’ll be knee deep in Azazel’s plan.
“Only knee deep?” Sam asked.
Dean snorted. “Fine, hip deep.”
Sam smiled. “It’s a shame, though,” he said. “Singer seemed like a decent guy.”
“Well, he shouldn’t be a Hunter if he wanted to win any points with us.”
Sam nodded, though Dean was staring at the road. “I guess your right. So, now that all that’s over with, how about we head for Saginaw?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Dean said. He reached out and turned on the radio.
Sam relaxed as the familiar guitar notes of Highway to Hell began.
Even if he did hate the lyrics.
Saginaw turned out to be a bust- Max Miller was missing. He’d disappeared in the middle of the day, and the only clues were the rest of the people in the diner- all of them dead and covered in sulfur. Max was not the main suspect only because the CCTV showed him backing away from a shadowy form before the thing grabbed him.
Sam and Dean exchanged glances at the news.
“Well,” Sam said once they were back in the Impala and heading away.
“It’s starting,” Dean replied. “I thought he’d start later on.”
“I guess not,” Sam replied. “Well,” he repeated.
“At least we know now,” Dean replied.
“This means that he’s almost ready to release Lilith,” Sam said. “Which means that soon enough, they’ll start breaking the rest of the seals.”
“I know, Sammy,” Dean said. “We better head back to the mansion.”
“Yeah,” Sam said.
Sam groaned as he opened the door to the mansion. He was just so tired. It was two days past the time they’d thought they’d make it, and he just wanted to go to sleep.
There didn’t seem to be anyone around as he and Dean reset the wards and stumbled to their rooms. Sam groaned as he set his duffle bag down on the floor. He was exhausted, that was the only reason he didn’t see the man standing in the corner of the room until he had closed the door and moved toward the bed.
He dropped to a crouch, but came out of it just as fast. “Dad!” he exclaimed.
“Your father’s asleep right now,” Azazel replied.
Sam sat down on his bed. “Right, sorry. I’m tired. Is something wrong?”
Azazel shook his head. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to check on you and your brother, after you both had that vision.”
Sam groaned. “Yeah, that damn vision,” he muttered. “Literally.”
Azazel chuckled. “Yes, true,” he said. “Sam, it’s a good thing. It did prove that Dean received some benefits from becoming one of my children, and you are getting stronger.”
“If you say so,” Sam said. He blinked and shook his head. “Dean did something to the car of a man following us before we headed to Michigan,” he said. “So the vision wasn’t proof, really.” He yawned. “Sorry, we barely stopped on the trip back from Michigan. Can we…”
Azazel sighed. “Humans and their limitations,” he muttered. “We’ll talk in the morning,” he said.
Sam nodded and lay down. He’d get up in a minute and get changed…
Azazel watched fondly as Sam and Dean worked around each other in the smallest of the mansion’s three kitchens to make breakfast. Neither of them had noticed he was watching, since he was currently hiding in the few shadows of the breakfast nook.
“Sleep in a real bed does wonders, doesn’t it, Sammy?” Dean asked.
“Yes it does,” Sam replied. “And it’s Sam!”
“Whatever, Sammy.”
Sam growled low in his throat, but he didn’t say anything. Azazel smiled. That was an old argument, one that the boys had been having since Sam had turned thirteen, at least.
They really were his favorites. And it wasn’t just because they were both powerful, it was also because they knew what he wanted, and they participated eagerly in his plans.
Though Azazel suspected he’d take a great interest in them even if they didn’t know.
He narrowed his eyes and stepped out of the shadows. “Feeling better, boys?”
Somehow, neither of them jumped or showed that they were startled at all.
“Yeah,” Dean said. He glared down at the eggs he was scrambling. “We’re fine,” he finished.
“Good,” Azazel said. “Because I’ve started weeding out the weaker of the children.”
“We know,” Sam said.
Azazel frowned at him. “We stopped by Saginaw. Max Miller was taken by something that left a lot of sulfur in the area. We figured it was you.”
Azazel chuckled. “Yes, it was. He and four others- you don’t know about them, they’re from outside the US- are in Cold Oak right now.”
“Cold Oak?” Dean asked. “Not the most haunted town in America?”
“Yes, Cold Oak,” Azazel said. “I figured an abandoned ghost town would be a good place for my version of Miss America.”
“Or Survivor: demon blood version,” Sam muttered.
Dean chuckled. “I like that,” he said. “So, when are Sammy and I joining the game?”
“You aren’t,” Azazel said. “Sammy… probably in a few months or so.”
“Why isn’t Dean?” Sam asked.
Azazel sighed. “Dean is… he was unplanned, and I’m still concerned that the blood didn’t do enough to make him suitable to our needs. Plus, I know you two wouldn’t kill each other, which would defeat the whole purpose of the death match. I’m not stupid, boys, I know you’ve talked about that.”
“True,” Sam said. “Are you going to want breakfast?” He asked quickly.
“I’ve already eaten,” Azazel replied.
“Alright,” Sam sighed. “I’ll be joining in for the final round, right?” Sam asked.
“Yes, that’s my plan,” Azazel said. “At least, at this point. But if the angels start acting up more, then I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“What are they doing?” Dean asked as he and Sam sat down to breakfast.
Azazel sighed. “A good number of them are laying siege to Hell.”
Dean choked on a bite of toast.
“What?” Sam breathed.
“Who would want to get into Hell?” Dean asked.
Azazel sighed. “The man you saw in your vision- Jimmy- is important to the events that will come. The angels need him, or they will lose the upcoming war.”
Sam blinked. “He’s that important? Is that why he broke the first seal?”
“It’s because he broke the first seal that he’s so important,” Azazel said. “And no, I’m not going to explain further right now.”
Sam and Dean glanced at each other, but Azazel knew they were used to that sort of response from him. They both shrugged and returned their attention to breakfast.
“But I am going to need your help soon, boys,” he said. “Just as soon as I find out where it is, I’m going to send you out to retrieve something for me.”
“What is it?”
Azazel sighed. “It’s a gun,” he said. “A very special gun.”
Sam blinked. “A gun?” he prompted.
Azazel felt John in the back of his mind, prompting him to explain.
“Yes,” Azazel said. “It’s an old gun. You see, in 1835, when Halley’s Comet was still visible, Samuel Colt built a gun. The story goes that he built it for a Hunter- a man like the ones after us, only on horseback. I know why he made it, and that was only part of the reason. He also made thirteen bullets. As long as those bullets have not all been used, that gun can kill anything.”
“Anything?” Sam asked. “Like… supernatural anything?”
“Anything,” Azazel said. “Though I suspect that it can’t literally kill anything, I have no proof. It can certainly kill anything that currently walks the Earth.”
Dean whistled quietly. “That sounds dangerous,” he said.
“Oh, it is,” Azazel said. “But it has more uses then that. That gun is also a key point to several of my plans.”
“Alright, so we’re going to find an old gun that can kill anything,” Dean said. “Well, that can’t be easy.”
Azazel sighed. “I have some ideas of where it might be,” he said. “It might take me a couple of months to confirm it, though. I need you two to stay here. It’s getting dangerous out there. I heard about your run in with that Hunter, and I don’t want anything to happen to you so close to the end.”
They didn’t look too happy about that, but they didn’t say anything.
“Think of it this way, boys. You can work on your abilities, try to wake them up.”
Dean brightened slightly, but Sam just looked even more upset. “Great,” he said. “More vision headaches.”
Azazel chuckled.
Trapped, he was trapped. Jimmy Novak panicked for a long moment before he took a deep breath and forced himself to focus. He’d probably done something wrong, and Alastair was punishing him. He tried to remember the last thing he could, but all he could remember was a brilliant light and a voice saying he didn’t belong in Hell.
He closed his eyes. Alastair was just trying to give him false hope, to break him down even more. Being Alastair’s student was hardly better then being his subject.
Jimmy nodded once.
He could handle this. He felt along the sides of his cage, and found they were soft, with what felt like hard wood under the padding.
He frowned. He was in a coffin? Maybe Alastair wanted him to escape from the coffin before his real punishment began.
Well, Jimmy hated small spaces, so he’d oblige him. Jimmy had learned how to handle pain, but he still hated to be held down.
He began battering against the top, eventually breaking through, only to be met with a fall of dirt. Desperately, for Jimmy could feel his oxygen running out (what oxygen? He was a soul, why did he need to breathe?), Jimmy dug through the dirt.
He felt a hand poke up into clean air, and he doubled his efforts. Someone grabbed his hand and helped pull him up. He gasped as cool air met his face. “What?”
“Hello, Jimmy Novak,” the man who helped him up said.
“Where’s Alastair?” Jimmy asked as he looked around. It looked like they were in a cemetery, one that had been flattened by some sort of explosion.
The man sighed, drawing Jimmy’s attention to him. He was taller then Jimmy by several inches, with light hair and blue eyes. He was older then Jimmy by a few years- possibly ten- and he was standing stiffly, as though he were much more serious then the blue jeans and comfortable flannel shirt he was wearing indicated.
“Alastair, as far as I know, is still in Hell, recovering from the injuries he took as he tried to prevent me from rescuing you.”
Jimmy gaped at the man. “What?” he asked. “We’re not in Hell?”
“No,” the man said. “Now come, we have to get out of here.”
“Why?”
“Because you are considered dead by the world, and I have much to tell you. I cannot do that if we are interrupted by someone.”
“Now wait just a minute,” Jimmy said. “I’m not going anywhere with you, not until I know who you are and where we are.”
“Currently, we are in the cemetery in Pontiac, Illinois,” the man said. “And I am Castiel. I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.” He looked completely satisfied by that.
Jimmy stared at the other man in shock. “You’re who?” he asked.
“I am Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord.”
Jimmy shook his head. “What would an angel want with me?”
“We have need of you, Jimmy,” the… angel said. “You have a part to play in what is to come.” He sighed. “First, let’s go. We have much to discuss, and I don’t want to do it here.”
Jimmy frowned at him, backing away. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
The angel lifted his hand and placed two fingers on his forehead. There was a moment of stomach twisting movement, and Jimmy stumbled back from the angel as they reappeared somewhere else.
Jimmy looked around. They were standing in some hotel room. “We can talk here,” Castiel said. “And we have much to discuss.”
“Now wait just a moment,” Jimmy snapped. “You say I’m not in Hell anymore?” he asked.
“You are not,” Castiel replied.
“Then I’m going to call my wife.”
“She will not believe it is you,” Castiel said.
Jimmy slumped down. The angel was right. He’d been in Hell for two decades, at least. There was no way Amelia hadn’t already moved on. And Clair was probably nearly as old as he’d been when he’d died.
“How long was I down there?”
“Twenty three years passed in Hell, while only a little over two months passed here.”
“What?” Jimmy asked.
Castiel nodded. “Time runs differently in Hell then it does on Earth,” he said. “You were only gone for two months.”
Jimmy closed his eyes. “That means that Clair… my little girl is still so young,” he said.
“Yes,” Castiel said.
“I have to go to them,” he said. He stood up and headed for the door.
Castiel grabbed his arm. “They are safe, for now. Would you drag them into danger just because you want to see them?”
Jimmy froze. “Danger?”
Castiel nodded. “We are about to enter a period of war with Hell,” he said. “And you, James Novak, have an important part to play in that war. I will stay with you and lead you through what you need to learn.”
“Why me? Why not someone who deserves it?”
Castiel looked at him. “You do deserve it, James Novak. Because God commanded it. He has work for you.”
Jess was not so patiently staring out the front window of Meg’s car. She wanted desperately to jump out and run to Sam, but they still had most of a mile to go, and it’d be faster in the car, winding road or not.
“Why is this place all the way out in the middle of nowhere, anyway?”
“Can you imagine us having normal neighbors?” Meg asked. “Believe me, we’re safer this way. There’s nobody to complain about weird noises, we have the freedom to do whatever we need to do, and we can set up some strong wards to keep Hunters from finding us. No, its better that we’re out here in the middle of nowhere.”
Jess sighed. “I guess you’re right,” she said. She reached up and fingered the amulet she now wore. It had been a gift from Meg after she’d cast her first successful spell. Meg had told her it marked her as Sam’s, and therefore, off limits.
“Of course I’m right,” Meg said haughtily. Jess started to laugh.
“So, what’d your parents say this time?” Meg asked.
Jess sighed. “Mom and Dad aren’t happy about this, but they seem to realize how much I need to do this. And it’s not like I’d be safe on my own yet. I can defend myself now, but any really good Hunter will easily take me out. And they might, just because of Sam, never mind the fact that I’m a witch now.”
“Actually, I meant the fact that you’re not continuing on to grad school.”
Jess grinned. “They just think I’m taking a year off,” she admitted.
Meg chuckled. “I see,” she said.
They turned a corner, and there was the mansion. Jess could see Sam waiting for her on the doorstop. Her boyfriend stood up as the car approached.
Meg stopped right in front of the door, and Jess had her door open almost as soon as they stopped.
“Jess!” Sam exclaimed as he caught her and spun her around before kissing her firmly. “Congratulations,” Sam finally said. “I heard you managed to keep your 4.0.”
Jess smiled. “Of course I did,” she said. “And I learned a lot more then just in my classes,” she said.
Sam frowned down at her before his eyes drifted to the amulet.
He blinked in shock.
“Jess… do you know what that means?” he asked.
Jess nodded. “Of course I do,” she said. “I told you, Sam, I love you. Giving myself up to you is nothing.”
Sam kissed the top of her head. “Jess,” he said quietly. He sounded stunned, but happy.
Jess smiled up at him. “That’s not all,” she said. “I’ve learned quite a lot.”
“Meg’s been teaching you?”
Jess nodded. “Knife fighting as well as a few spells.”
Sam grinned. “Good,” he said. “We’ll have to spar sometime.”
Jess grinned. Her boyfriend was awesome.
Dawn found Jess stretching out on the front lawn. She’d gotten in the habit of running a few miles every morning (actually, Meg had pretty much forced her to start running), and the grounds around the mansion would be perfect for a nice long run. She knew Sam and Dean had already started on their run, but they tended to go faster then she could keep up, and anyway, she liked running alone.
Jess checked that her new knife was secure in its sheath at the small of her back, and set off.
There was something very lovely about the location that Azazel had chosen for his safe house. Despite being occupied by demons for the better part of a century, the woods around the house were peaceful and healthy. Jess saw deer bolt away from her as she ran, as well as signs of other forest creatures.
She smiled. It was a wonderful area.
She lost herself in her run. As she finished her circuit around the house, she saw that Sam and Dean were waiting for her, along with John. No, not John. She had to remember that she was looking at Azazel right now.
“Good, there you are,” Azazel said. “As soon as the three of you are ready, I need to talk with you. I’ve found the Colt.”
Sam watched as Azazel spread a map out. “Before I explain where the Colt is, I want to show you something. Once we have the Colt, and you’ve won, Sammy, we’ll head here.”
Sam and Dean leaned over the map to study it.
John and Dean studied the map. “So, this is where you want us to go once we’ve found that colt?” Dean asked. “What’s so important about this corner of Wyoming?”
Sam was wondering the same thing. Jess looked like she wanted to ask about it too.
Azazel laughed. He took a pen and made five marks. “These five points are where Samuel Colt- yes, the very same man who built that blasted gun- built five churches. He connected them with private railroads.”
Sam leaned over and took the pen. He connected the marks into a familiar pattern. “It’s a devil’s trap. What’s in the center that’s so important?” Sam asked.
Azazel nodded at Sam. “The devil’s gate. A door to hell. It can only be unlock by using the same Colt. We open it, and release the army. We can release Lilith.”
“Lilith?” Jess asked. “You don’t mean- the first woman, the one who refused to bow down to Adam, the one who came before Eve? That Lilith?”
Sam glanced at her. He was shocked that she knew that. “I read about her,” she said quietly.
Azazel nodded. “Yes, that Lilith. She’s a very powerful demon, currently trapped in Hell, and if we can free her, she can begin the process of freeing Lucifer.”
Jess sat down. Sam realized that this was the first time Jess had heard the full plan. Sam glanced at her, worried about how she’d take it. She smiled at him wanly. “I had no idea,” she muttered.
Sam nodded. “Well, that’s the plan,” he said quietly.
She nodded slowly. Sam wasn’t sure what she was thinking. He just hoped she wasn’t regretting her decisions.
“So, this devil’s gate,” Dean said. “If it’s in the middle of a devil’s trap, then demons can’t escape,” Dean shook his head. “Oh, Colt was a…”
“He was very smart,” Azazel said. “I knew him quite well. Unfortunately, I was never able to tempt him to our side, or things would be very different. He was never a Hunter, but he had friends who were, and he trusted them more then he trusted the demon who offered him everything he ever wanted. I never attacked him, so we developed a very odd relationship- it wasn’t friendship, but he at least trusted me not to attack him or his family, even when he was doing all his best to stop my plans.”
Sam and Dean both snorted at that. “So, we know what we need the Colt for. We know where to go when we find the Colt. We just need that gun to do it. And you know where the Colt is,” Sam said.
Azazel nodded. “And that’s where you two come in- again. Or the three of you, if you want to help, Jess. I’ve found out where it is, but the man guarding it has too many protections against demons for me to just walk up to him and take it.”
“So you need us to get it,” Dean said.
“Yes,” Azazel said. “Daniel Elkins is reclusive, so he won’t recognize you on sight.”
“That’s a plus,” Sam said. “If we choose good fake names- no rock aliases, Dean- we should be able to get in with no trouble.”
“There is one thing,” Azazel said. “Elkins is a vampire Hunter, primarily. I think that one of the nests is going after him in revenge.”
“Huh,” Dean said. “I thought vampires were extinct.”
“Vampires are real?” Jess said.
“They were,” Sam said. “But I thought Hunters had wiped them out about fifty years ago.”
“Everyone thought that, Sam,” Azazel said. “But I made contact with a couple of nests when John and I hit the road. None of them are going to help us, but I didn’t really expect them to. Especially not the one group… they’ve stopped feeding from humans. Their leader is…” he shook his head. “No one should deny their own nature,” he said. “Fools.”
Dean snorted. “What, they go after cows?”
“Yes, actually,” Azazel said.
“Wow,” Sam deadpanned.
Jess snickered. “The look on your face, Sam,” she said.
“I loath stupidity, and what those vampires are doing is stupid,” Sam said. “Azazel’s right, no one should deny their own nature.”
Jess shrugged. “What about the other nest?” she asked.
“They won’t help us, they won’t hinder us,” Azazel said. “I suppose that’s the best I could hope for. You’ll be heading into their territory- Elkins has been Hunting this nest for years, and they’ve been tracking him in turn.”
Dean nodded. “So, since we’ve never met vampires before, how do we deal with them? Just in case?”
“Beheading works,” Azazel said. “And they don’t like getting stabbed by a knife covered in the blood of a dead man. Beyond that, just don’t get in their way, unless they get in yours.”
Sam and Dean nodded. Jess smiled wanly and nodded as well, a moment after that.
“Good,” Azazel said. “You’ll leave for Colorado in the morning.”
Sam climbed out of the Impala next to the old cabin. It looked trashed.
“Damn,” Dean said as he got out.
Jess unfolded herself from the back seat and eyed the cabin. “I’d say the vampires got here before we did,” she said.
“Looks like it,” Sam said. “But the gun might still be there.”
“Let’s get the flashlights and some weapons out of the trunk,” Dean said.
Sam glanced around the outside before they entered. He couldn’t see any sign of where the attackers might have gone, but that didn’t mean much.
Once inside, it was clear that the place had been ransacked. “So, this guy was definitely a Hunter,” Sam said. He was looking at the thick line of salt that lined the door. “And, apparently, whatever attacked Elkins wasn’t bothered by salt.”
“I thought we’d decided it was vampires,” Jess said.
“Well, no need to eliminate anything right now. After all, we wouldn’t mind taking out some Hunters and none of us are repelled by salt,” Dean said. “But you’re right, it’s probably vampires.”
Jess snorted. Sam smiled and let his girlfriend and brother bicker companionably. He headed back into the rest of the cabin. It was a large one, with all sorts of interesting odds and ends inside. “I’d love to spend a week with Elkins’ library,” he muttered. “And then, I’d probably have to torch a good portion of it.”
Dean and Jess either ignored him or didn’t hear him. Jess was still searching the main room, while Dean was upstairs.
“Hey, I found something!” Dean called out. He came down the stairs holding a box. “Look at this.”
Sam took it and opened it. There was a space for a hand gun, and several slots for bullets, but the box was empty. He counted them and came up with thirteen.
“It’s gone,” Sam said.
Jess took the box and studied it. “I think I can find it,” she said.
“A locator spell?” Sam asked.
Jess nodded. “Exactly,” she said. “It’s similar to using a spell to locate people, but it works on inanimate objects.”
“Awesome,” Dean said. “Sammy, have I told you that your girlfriend is way out of your league?”
“It’s Sam, and stop it,” Sam said. “I heard you the first hundred times.”
“I think we have what I need back in the car,” Jess said.
“Let’s get a hotel room,” Dean said. “We’re all tired, and I don’t want to talk to vampires, or whatever has the Colt, without a good night’s sleep.”
Part Five