Shadows 09
Hi, guys. I hope you're still with me! I apologize for the hiatus. I had tons of things to do and then my beta would keep promising me the corrected chapter for over three/four months. But finally, I stopped waiting and asked a different girl who is so incredible and offered to help me out.
Now for the good news. AWAIT A REGULAR POSTING SHEDULE! Yea, no kidding. Every week, I'll be positng a new chapter. We're somewhere after the first half of the story so expect a couple of new memories and then it's all about the comfort ^^
(Someone laughed in an irritating voice, the sound making Sam’s blood boil. He knew who he’d find sitting there across the room even before he turned his head. The witch that had caused all this was sitting on the ground, Dean’s head on her lap, absently stroking his hair. Dean’s body was lying unmoving and pliant. Thankfully free of restraints. But that didn’t matter, because Dean was unconscious and going nowhere, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.)
- Sam -
“I see your brother’s lovely head was a bit overwhelming for you,” the witch purred.
Only a few times in his life had Sam felt as furious as he did right now. When Jess had died, seeing her pinned to the ceiling, eyes wide, staring into his but blind. When Trickster had murdered Dean over and over, or when his brother ended down in Hell in exchange for Sam’s life. Those were the moments he had tasted the desire to kill someone. Kill the yellow-eyed demon, kill the trickster, kill Lilith.
He wanted to kill the witch now. And the fucking son of a bitch from Dean's memory. But the man wasn't here. The witch, though, she was.
Her fingers skimmed through Dean's hair. She started humming quietly, almost like a lullaby. She found Sam's eyes and smiled in victory; excited by having the upper hand. And Jesus Christ, Sam wanted to tear her apart.
He envisioned himself striding over, getting his hands on her pale neck. He imagined the shocked eyes, mouth wide open in a silent scream as he’d squeeze the life out of her; the twitching limbs, fingers clawing at Sam’s, but he was stronger than her. He crushed her easily.
He blinked when the place began to shake and chains rattled against the bricks. The witch stopped humming. First Sam thought he had caused it, memories of the powers he’d once possessed flooding his mind. But no, that wasn’t right. He’d have felt the addictive pulses of energy pushing out from within his body, directed by the sheer brutality of his will. This came from another source, a much more powerful source, and it felt exactly like Castiel’s loss of control in Dean’s memory.
Sam turned his head and was blinded by the bright glare of the fire ring, which appeared bigger and higher than before. Malicious flames burst brilliantly, fighting against the angel's power shooting from within his confinement. There was no way Castiel was going to come out victorious-not even archangels were capable of escaping the Holy Ring. But Castiel didn’t seem to care or have a plan. It looked like he only meant to destroy.
“Hand Dean over,” the angel said rather calmly, as oppose to the cold fury he was giving off.
The witch tightened her grip in Dean’s hair, “No way.”
The floor beneath Sam’s palms vibrated. He looked at Benny, and saw his own fear reflected in the vampire's dark eyes.
“Hand Dean over.”
“No!”
“You will hand him to me,” Castiel growled.
“Or what, huh?” she mocked him. "What can you do?"
“I will kill Sam Winchester and the vampire.”
Wait. What?
Sam stared at the angel with an open mouth. Castiel couldn’t be serious, right? And even if so (which was just plain ridiculous), he was trapped in the fire ring. He wouldn't be able to kill them even if he tried. Right?
“They're bound to my grace, and it will take no effort to kill them even from here,” Castiel said to the witch, who stopped gripping Dean’s hair and was intently staring at the angel. “If you wanted us dead, you would have killed us already.”
‘He's bluffing,’ Sam thought, because Cas had to be bluffing. Sam had never heard of such spell, and Cas would have told them, wouldn't he? He searched the angel's face but found no indication whether to take the threat seriously. Castiel's eyes were intent on Dean, giving nothing away.
Sam scratched his fingernails against the vibrating floor. Why Cas hadn't spared him a single glance, if just to assure him that he was really bluffing? And why wasn't Benny butting in? He looked resigned, like he believed Cas wouldn't hesitate to off him. Maybe he had a reason to. Castiel would sacrifice a vampire's life for a human's anytime. But trading one man for another? Cas must have been bluffing.
The witch seemed to agree with Sam's conclusion. “You wouldn’t do that, angel.” She grinned self-assuredly but it died quickly when Castiel raised his hand in Sam’s direction.
Sam’s heart started racing, and Castiel still hadn't looked at him. For a second, Sam came to believe the angel was really going to kill him just to prove he meant his threat. He could have laughed. Cas preferred Dean’s presence to Sam’s life. Of course he did. And wasn’t that just hilarious?
He closed his eyes.
“Wait.”
The witch said it loudly but unhurriedly. Her tone bored, like she was just haggling over the price on a market, realizing she wouldn’t have the last word. Sam opened his eyes in time to see Dean’s body being tossed like a rag doll by some invisible force over the fire and into the ring, where Castiel waited with outstretched arms, catching him easily.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” the witch warned. “You know I won't hesitate to kill you all even if I do mean to keep you alive for the time being.”
Cas ignored her. He cradled Dean’s head between his hands, a soft glowing light coming out of his fingers and healing Dean’s hidden wounds and those caused by the burning fire. “It’s alright, Dean,” he whispered. “It’s alright now. I have you.”
The witch chuckled. “Why, that’s sweet.”
Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s body protectively, practically hugging him, arranging their positions so Dean’s head was resting on Cas’ shoulder, and the angel nuzzled into Dean’s hair. His left hand ran along Dean's back soothingly.
Somehow they fitted together perfectly, and Sam felt like he was intruding on a private moment, but he wasn't able to look away. Castiel-a heaven's soldier-was hugging Dean, caressing him gently like a… like a lover would. Seeing them like this felt weird but at the same time like the most natural thing in the world.
“Shouldn’t he wake up?” Benny inquired.
“I've let him sleep,” Cas replied. “I don’t want him to…” He trailed of, throwing one accusing glare at Sam.
Benny nodded. “I get it.”
Sam really didn’t want to deal with the blame and guilt right now. He knew he’d fucked up royally, but thinking about it meant remembering. And he wasn't ready for that. It made his stomach clench, his body tense with anger, while it made him numb and hollow.
“Don’t worry, Sammy,” the witch said, startling him. “I understand you.”
Sam gritted his teeth.
“You’re a curious boy, Sam. You crave all the knowledge you can get those big hands of yours on. So little escapes your sharp mind. And yet your own brother remained a mystery to you for all these years. You didn’t even know… Tell me, Sammy, how does it make you feel? It must be frustrating, hmm?"
"Shut up," he hissed.
Her smile grew wider. "And there's so much you still don't know.”
“I will kill you,” Castiel growled.
The witch chuckled. “And will you, my angel, do it from inside the fire ring?”
A heated spark danced across Cas’ eyes, illuminated by the glowing blaze. “How did you acquire Holy oil?”
“I have my connections, you know. I may look young…” She caressed her body, hands running from tights up to her chest and down, a cocky, seductive smile on her lips. “But I saw the Civil War with my own eyes. I have enough knowledge and experience to get what I want.”
“Oh, and what is it you want?” Benny gritted through his teeth.
“From you? Nothing more than some fun to pass the time. From Crowley though, that’s what matters here, kids.”
Just when Sam thought it couldn’t get any worse. “Crowley?”
“Yes, sweetie, The King. I must confess that after the vampire... declined my offer," she glared at Benny nastily, "all I planned was to leave him with a little parting gift, not knowing he was a Winchester's pet. But then he came back with his little cavalry, and I sensed you and the angel's presence from afar. It'd be a crime to pass such opportunity; you have to agree with me on this... So I changed the game plan. I'm very good at improvising, you know? And your brother's mind? Oh, such sweet thoughts and things hidden away in the deepest corners. Like an icing on the cake."
She paused after that, probably expecting another salvo of spiteful words. Sam was too numb to think of any. Benny only glared at her, and Cas continued stroking Dean's back.
"Never mind," she said with a dramatic sigh. "You see, we have a deal, The King and me. He gives me souls from time to time and for that I help him whenever I can.”
Sam found his one word and focused on it. “Souls?”
“Yes. Souls. I guess you’ve never used a soul’s energy for a spell.” She tilted her head back and breathed in, groaning theatrically, like she could feel the energy in that exact moment. “Aah, it's intoxicating. The spells hold so much power. It's like they become real, alive. So exciting, like an orgasm… no, even better than that. You can do… anything, anything at all. I can do anything.”
“You can let us out,” Benny said.
“Didn’t you pay attention?” she snapped, “I need you like a favor for Crowley, so he gets me more souls. They burn rather quickly when you use them, you know.” She looked them over with pursed lips. “You should be thanking me, anyway.”
“Thanking you?” Castiel hissed.
“Yes, my dear angel, thanking me. Sammy," she turned to him with a conspiratorial wink, "you can learn even more about your brother. I can show you everything you've ever wondered about. You want to, I know that. You want to so much it hurts. Why hold back now, when you've come so far already? To see more isn't going to make it worse than it already is.”
Sam gritted his teeth, seething.
"No? Nothing? Alright. What about the vampire..."
The iron on Benny's leg clinked as his body jerked in reaction.
"You’ve always wondered about the enigma that was Dean Winchester, haven't you?" She looked pleased when Benny's eyes narrowed. "You don’t show it but you are curious, too. Those nights in Purgatory when you were on watch, and Dean would roll over in his restless sleep and whimpered oh so quietly? And you would adjust his jacket so he wouldn't catch a cold, like he was your little brother, and you soothed him from the nightmares? Telling yourself it was to keep your ride out alive... But you know it was protectiveness and friendship owning you practically from the first second you saw the kid swinging his blade, angry and driven, but so lonely, and yes, scared.”
"You like listening to yourself, darlin', don't you?" Benny growled.
The witch smirked, turning to Cas. “What about you, my winged friend? You can profit the most of all from this. You can finally know what it is you... feel inside.”
Of all reactions Sam expected Cas to have at the witch's maiming words, it was not the head tilted in curiosity. Cas was breathing in Dean’s hair, chest rising and falling quickly, and instead of emitting the murderous rage just like moments ago, he, for a second, looked freaking interested.
“You're confused, my little angel, the feelings are too new and chaotic. But if you follow the path I’ve prepared for the three of you, you will learn. You will finally know. It is tempting, isn’t it?”
“And what'd you do with us then, hey? When we learn everything?” Benny snapped. “Let us kindly bail?”
The witch laughed. “Tempting, but no, honey, no. When Crowley gets the souls for me, I’ll tell him where we are so he can come and get you. And he will come. He's always playing a bit hesitant at first. I want more souls from him with every new deal, so I suppose it's to be expected… but with you at stake? He will be kissing my shiny Jimmy Choo's.”
Sam's eyes darted around, sharp and quick; hunter's. The witch had a point. Crowley wouldn't let this chance pass him and any minute now, he could contact her to agree on the terms. Or he could cheat and find this place of hiding, crashing here with a demon party. Either way, the result for them was going to be the same.
They needed to get out of here. And fast.
“The question is how we're going to pass the time we have,” the witch said, and all Sam could think then was a desperate litany of nonono.
Not again. No. His eyes found Castiel's. Maybe if the angel woke Dean up, he could help Cas escape the fire ring. The witch was powerful but they may be able to take her if they surprised her. Sam and Benny weren't much of a help now, but with Cas free, they stood a chance. Or the angel would at least be able to take Dean away to safety.
“Sammy, Sammy,” the witch cooed, “no thinking of escaping. I set the rules. And I say the game is far from over.”
Sam only managed to curse before the world dissolved around him with a flash of blinding white light.
...
Young Dean’s hands shook uncontrollably as he buttoned up his shirt. He was barely standing, swaying dangerously from side to side, his legs trembling so bad it looked like they were about to give out.
“Son of a bitch!”
They stood in the fucking living room, back in the last memory. There was no way they could escape now before Crowley got to them.
“Easy, there,” Benny said, laying his hand on Sam's shoulder.
Sam shrugged the hand off jerkily. “Easy?!“ He raked his fingers through his hair. “How can you be so goddamn-How can you be so calm!“
They were back. They were fucking back in the goddamn-and Sam had never been one to swear, but now he just-
“Believe me. I'm not,” Benny replied, eyes firmly set on Sam as if he was afraid to look around, “but we got to find a way out. We got to think, and right now, you're not thinkin' any clear.”
Sam huffed out a frustrated laugh. He looked at his brother; battered, so small and crushed. Dean’s head was lowered down so Sam couldn’t see his face. What he could see clearly than any nightmare he’d had in life was the son of a bitch sitting in the armchair, watching Dean with a small smirk and sprawled casually like he owned the moment. Which, by the look of things, he probably did.
Sam could not stand to look at him any longer. Taylor’s face was already imprinted deep in his memories. There was not going to be a single night he wouldn’t wake up sweating and seeing this smug grin flashing before his eyes.
“We need to find a way out,” Castiel said, sounding hoarse. Just when Taylor started talking.
“I guess I don’t need to remind you to keep this between us.”
Dean flinched at the reminder of the man still in the room but didn’t look up. He said nothing. He kept buttoning his shirt shakily, and Sam wondered, furious, what the hell his brother was doing here. He should have run home already. By now he should have been telling John about this bastard. So dad could come and blow his brains out. Sam wanted to see it in the next memory.
“Besides, who would believe you, right?” Taylor continued in a honeyed voice. “What d'you think, Deano? Will they believe me, a proper citizen… American hero? Or you, a delinquent without a permanent address who barely shows up in school? Even your daddy will think you’re lying to him.”
Dean’s eyes fixed on his bare feet. He turned around, searching for boots.
“Or worse, he’ll be disappointed in you. Even you must see it, how pathetic you are. What would daddy think of his tough eldest son turning into a little bitch? You can’t even take care of yourself. How can you take care of Sammy?”
The words were like poison, sinking through Dean’s skin. Sam thought no, that wasn’t right. It was a total bullshit. Dad would never. But Dean would of course believe these lies. Taylor was a manipulative son of a bitch, and Dean didn't think clearly at the moment.
Dean gave up trying to find his shoes and hurried to the front door. He was limping, in pain.
Sam closed his eyes, feeling sick. A brief thought of 'Away!' crossed his mind. And to his surprise and relief the surroundings changed.
...
A dimly lit hall replaced the interior of the living room and the stuffy air there. Sam was able to breathe a bit, the nausea retracting reluctantly.
Dean stood in front of their apartment's door, still wearing the same clothes, the same pale look just like seconds ago. For him it must have been no more than a few minutes. He was clenching the door handle tightly, palm sweating. His feet wobbled unsteadily.
“Sam, how did you do it?” Cas inquired.
Unlike Sam, his eyes had never left any of the memory Deans whether Sam's brother was happy or in pain, or like now looking broken beyond repair. Cas was strong that way. He was able to look at Dean and see his strength and beauty; be Dean's life-line and not get pulled in the misery. Sam wasn't able to do that. Not now, at least. He looked at his brother, and felt his world crumble piece by damn piece.
He had to turn his side to Dean, enough so his brother remained in his peripheral vision, but not enough so Sam could breathe and think clearly without Dean's hollow eyes filling his mind. He wished he could borrow half of Cas' strength.
“That was you?” Benny asked, eyes ticking between Sam and Cas.
“I-I don't know. Maybe,” Sam said. “I mean, I thought like, away, and then the scene changed.”
“The memories must continue to react at your commands,” Cas mused aloud, frowning. “Can you think to get us out?”
Sam tried. Closing his eyes, he concentrated. But nothing happened. He looked at his companions helplessly.
Benny turned to Cas. “Now what, Sherlock?”
“My name is not Sherlock.”
“How do you know who Sherlock is?” Sam asked Benny, incredulous.
“I didn't spend all my life in Purgatory, bud.”
Right. Sam cast a quick glance at Dean. It didn't look like his brother would be moving any time soon. Sam needed to hug him and fall apart together with him; with this and the real one, but this one he wouldn't be able to touch and for the real Dean he had to first get out of here. But how?
A thought occurred to him.
“The witch. She said the game wasn't over yet. What if-what if when we finish this sick idea of a 'game', it ends?”
Benny looked at him skeptically. "Meaning, we have to paddle in all kid's memories to get out?"
Cas tilted his head. “Maybe. But the witch appears to be very intelligent and a powerful being. Her witchcraft even wins against my powers, which rarely ever happens. I think we were able to wake up the first two times simply because she eased the spell. I doubt it'll be this easy again.”
So it was possible that they'd waste time and the witch would in the end be the only one able to get them out, but in Sam's opinion, it was worth the risk. They didn't have much choice, anyway.
"Keep trying to change the memories, however," Cas added, "I'm sure it was you who did it, and these memories continues to react to you. It may help us move faster."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, okay." He could do that. At least he had something to focus on. A goal.
“Hold it a bit," Benny said. "Let's say it works and let's say we figure a way out. What do we do then? It's not like we can just up and make a run for it.”
Benny was right. They were tied down, quite literally, and Cas wouldn't be able to escape. But this is what Sam had been thinking about when the witch caught him and sent them back into Dean's head. He may have had a solution.
“You have to wake Dean,” he said to Cas.
“No.”
“Cas-“
“I said no, Sam,” the angel growled. “I won't make this any harder on Dean than it already is. I will wake him up and take care of him when we're somewhere safe.”
Sam sighed. “Look, Cas, I know you must hate me right now, and believe me when I say, I kind of hate myself too. But Dean is tough, he can handle it. He's the only one free. The witch has underestimated him, and right now, he's our only chance to escape. He's his only chance to escape.”
“The witch'll be there, though,” Benny said.
Sam nodded. “Yeah, but if we're quick enough, than maybe-”
Right then, the door to the motel room opened abruptly and John Winchester strode out, nearly knocking Dean down. “Jesus Christ, son!” he exclaimed gruffly. “What're ya lurking here for?"
When Dean regained his lost balance, John took in his ghastly appearance and his dirty bare feet. "What the hell happened to you?”
Dean just looked at him, crumpling the hem of his shirt with a trembling hand. He opened his mouth but closed it promptly.
“Well?” John looked to be in a hurry, and when Dean's silence stretched, he said impatiently, “Dean, I don't have all day.”
“I... I have to, I should-“
“Spit it out. You were fighting again, weren't you?”
“I-I...”
“Stop stuttering. I taught you better,” John cut him off, getting slightly annoyed. Sam remembered bitterly their dad had never been a level-headed man. He cared, he really did. But he had a hard time showing it. “Bobby called. He's got a hunch on the demon. We have to leave earlier. Call Sam and explain it to him. You understand? The two of us will have a little talk later.”
Dean nodded.
“Good.”
Dad turned his back on Dean and marched down the hall. Dean watched him with a closed off expression, never calling after him, never telling him.
The memory faded. On its own. Sam was too stunned by Dean's silence, he forgot to keep on trying to move them forward.
In the next memory, Dean's silence continued.
chapter eight
chapter ten
Now for the good news. AWAIT A REGULAR POSTING SHEDULE! Yea, no kidding. Every week, I'll be positng a new chapter. We're somewhere after the first half of the story so expect a couple of new memories and then it's all about the comfort ^^
(Someone laughed in an irritating voice, the sound making Sam’s blood boil. He knew who he’d find sitting there across the room even before he turned his head. The witch that had caused all this was sitting on the ground, Dean’s head on her lap, absently stroking his hair. Dean’s body was lying unmoving and pliant. Thankfully free of restraints. But that didn’t matter, because Dean was unconscious and going nowhere, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.)
- Sam -
“I see your brother’s lovely head was a bit overwhelming for you,” the witch purred.
Only a few times in his life had Sam felt as furious as he did right now. When Jess had died, seeing her pinned to the ceiling, eyes wide, staring into his but blind. When Trickster had murdered Dean over and over, or when his brother ended down in Hell in exchange for Sam’s life. Those were the moments he had tasted the desire to kill someone. Kill the yellow-eyed demon, kill the trickster, kill Lilith.
He wanted to kill the witch now. And the fucking son of a bitch from Dean's memory. But the man wasn't here. The witch, though, she was.
Her fingers skimmed through Dean's hair. She started humming quietly, almost like a lullaby. She found Sam's eyes and smiled in victory; excited by having the upper hand. And Jesus Christ, Sam wanted to tear her apart.
He envisioned himself striding over, getting his hands on her pale neck. He imagined the shocked eyes, mouth wide open in a silent scream as he’d squeeze the life out of her; the twitching limbs, fingers clawing at Sam’s, but he was stronger than her. He crushed her easily.
He blinked when the place began to shake and chains rattled against the bricks. The witch stopped humming. First Sam thought he had caused it, memories of the powers he’d once possessed flooding his mind. But no, that wasn’t right. He’d have felt the addictive pulses of energy pushing out from within his body, directed by the sheer brutality of his will. This came from another source, a much more powerful source, and it felt exactly like Castiel’s loss of control in Dean’s memory.
Sam turned his head and was blinded by the bright glare of the fire ring, which appeared bigger and higher than before. Malicious flames burst brilliantly, fighting against the angel's power shooting from within his confinement. There was no way Castiel was going to come out victorious-not even archangels were capable of escaping the Holy Ring. But Castiel didn’t seem to care or have a plan. It looked like he only meant to destroy.
“Hand Dean over,” the angel said rather calmly, as oppose to the cold fury he was giving off.
The witch tightened her grip in Dean’s hair, “No way.”
The floor beneath Sam’s palms vibrated. He looked at Benny, and saw his own fear reflected in the vampire's dark eyes.
“Hand Dean over.”
“No!”
“You will hand him to me,” Castiel growled.
“Or what, huh?” she mocked him. "What can you do?"
“I will kill Sam Winchester and the vampire.”
Wait. What?
Sam stared at the angel with an open mouth. Castiel couldn’t be serious, right? And even if so (which was just plain ridiculous), he was trapped in the fire ring. He wouldn't be able to kill them even if he tried. Right?
“They're bound to my grace, and it will take no effort to kill them even from here,” Castiel said to the witch, who stopped gripping Dean’s hair and was intently staring at the angel. “If you wanted us dead, you would have killed us already.”
‘He's bluffing,’ Sam thought, because Cas had to be bluffing. Sam had never heard of such spell, and Cas would have told them, wouldn't he? He searched the angel's face but found no indication whether to take the threat seriously. Castiel's eyes were intent on Dean, giving nothing away.
Sam scratched his fingernails against the vibrating floor. Why Cas hadn't spared him a single glance, if just to assure him that he was really bluffing? And why wasn't Benny butting in? He looked resigned, like he believed Cas wouldn't hesitate to off him. Maybe he had a reason to. Castiel would sacrifice a vampire's life for a human's anytime. But trading one man for another? Cas must have been bluffing.
The witch seemed to agree with Sam's conclusion. “You wouldn’t do that, angel.” She grinned self-assuredly but it died quickly when Castiel raised his hand in Sam’s direction.
Sam’s heart started racing, and Castiel still hadn't looked at him. For a second, Sam came to believe the angel was really going to kill him just to prove he meant his threat. He could have laughed. Cas preferred Dean’s presence to Sam’s life. Of course he did. And wasn’t that just hilarious?
He closed his eyes.
“Wait.”
The witch said it loudly but unhurriedly. Her tone bored, like she was just haggling over the price on a market, realizing she wouldn’t have the last word. Sam opened his eyes in time to see Dean’s body being tossed like a rag doll by some invisible force over the fire and into the ring, where Castiel waited with outstretched arms, catching him easily.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” the witch warned. “You know I won't hesitate to kill you all even if I do mean to keep you alive for the time being.”
Cas ignored her. He cradled Dean’s head between his hands, a soft glowing light coming out of his fingers and healing Dean’s hidden wounds and those caused by the burning fire. “It’s alright, Dean,” he whispered. “It’s alright now. I have you.”
The witch chuckled. “Why, that’s sweet.”
Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s body protectively, practically hugging him, arranging their positions so Dean’s head was resting on Cas’ shoulder, and the angel nuzzled into Dean’s hair. His left hand ran along Dean's back soothingly.
Somehow they fitted together perfectly, and Sam felt like he was intruding on a private moment, but he wasn't able to look away. Castiel-a heaven's soldier-was hugging Dean, caressing him gently like a… like a lover would. Seeing them like this felt weird but at the same time like the most natural thing in the world.
“Shouldn’t he wake up?” Benny inquired.
“I've let him sleep,” Cas replied. “I don’t want him to…” He trailed of, throwing one accusing glare at Sam.
Benny nodded. “I get it.”
Sam really didn’t want to deal with the blame and guilt right now. He knew he’d fucked up royally, but thinking about it meant remembering. And he wasn't ready for that. It made his stomach clench, his body tense with anger, while it made him numb and hollow.
“Don’t worry, Sammy,” the witch said, startling him. “I understand you.”
Sam gritted his teeth.
“You’re a curious boy, Sam. You crave all the knowledge you can get those big hands of yours on. So little escapes your sharp mind. And yet your own brother remained a mystery to you for all these years. You didn’t even know… Tell me, Sammy, how does it make you feel? It must be frustrating, hmm?"
"Shut up," he hissed.
Her smile grew wider. "And there's so much you still don't know.”
“I will kill you,” Castiel growled.
The witch chuckled. “And will you, my angel, do it from inside the fire ring?”
A heated spark danced across Cas’ eyes, illuminated by the glowing blaze. “How did you acquire Holy oil?”
“I have my connections, you know. I may look young…” She caressed her body, hands running from tights up to her chest and down, a cocky, seductive smile on her lips. “But I saw the Civil War with my own eyes. I have enough knowledge and experience to get what I want.”
“Oh, and what is it you want?” Benny gritted through his teeth.
“From you? Nothing more than some fun to pass the time. From Crowley though, that’s what matters here, kids.”
Just when Sam thought it couldn’t get any worse. “Crowley?”
“Yes, sweetie, The King. I must confess that after the vampire... declined my offer," she glared at Benny nastily, "all I planned was to leave him with a little parting gift, not knowing he was a Winchester's pet. But then he came back with his little cavalry, and I sensed you and the angel's presence from afar. It'd be a crime to pass such opportunity; you have to agree with me on this... So I changed the game plan. I'm very good at improvising, you know? And your brother's mind? Oh, such sweet thoughts and things hidden away in the deepest corners. Like an icing on the cake."
She paused after that, probably expecting another salvo of spiteful words. Sam was too numb to think of any. Benny only glared at her, and Cas continued stroking Dean's back.
"Never mind," she said with a dramatic sigh. "You see, we have a deal, The King and me. He gives me souls from time to time and for that I help him whenever I can.”
Sam found his one word and focused on it. “Souls?”
“Yes. Souls. I guess you’ve never used a soul’s energy for a spell.” She tilted her head back and breathed in, groaning theatrically, like she could feel the energy in that exact moment. “Aah, it's intoxicating. The spells hold so much power. It's like they become real, alive. So exciting, like an orgasm… no, even better than that. You can do… anything, anything at all. I can do anything.”
“You can let us out,” Benny said.
“Didn’t you pay attention?” she snapped, “I need you like a favor for Crowley, so he gets me more souls. They burn rather quickly when you use them, you know.” She looked them over with pursed lips. “You should be thanking me, anyway.”
“Thanking you?” Castiel hissed.
“Yes, my dear angel, thanking me. Sammy," she turned to him with a conspiratorial wink, "you can learn even more about your brother. I can show you everything you've ever wondered about. You want to, I know that. You want to so much it hurts. Why hold back now, when you've come so far already? To see more isn't going to make it worse than it already is.”
Sam gritted his teeth, seething.
"No? Nothing? Alright. What about the vampire..."
The iron on Benny's leg clinked as his body jerked in reaction.
"You’ve always wondered about the enigma that was Dean Winchester, haven't you?" She looked pleased when Benny's eyes narrowed. "You don’t show it but you are curious, too. Those nights in Purgatory when you were on watch, and Dean would roll over in his restless sleep and whimpered oh so quietly? And you would adjust his jacket so he wouldn't catch a cold, like he was your little brother, and you soothed him from the nightmares? Telling yourself it was to keep your ride out alive... But you know it was protectiveness and friendship owning you practically from the first second you saw the kid swinging his blade, angry and driven, but so lonely, and yes, scared.”
"You like listening to yourself, darlin', don't you?" Benny growled.
The witch smirked, turning to Cas. “What about you, my winged friend? You can profit the most of all from this. You can finally know what it is you... feel inside.”
Of all reactions Sam expected Cas to have at the witch's maiming words, it was not the head tilted in curiosity. Cas was breathing in Dean’s hair, chest rising and falling quickly, and instead of emitting the murderous rage just like moments ago, he, for a second, looked freaking interested.
“You're confused, my little angel, the feelings are too new and chaotic. But if you follow the path I’ve prepared for the three of you, you will learn. You will finally know. It is tempting, isn’t it?”
“And what'd you do with us then, hey? When we learn everything?” Benny snapped. “Let us kindly bail?”
The witch laughed. “Tempting, but no, honey, no. When Crowley gets the souls for me, I’ll tell him where we are so he can come and get you. And he will come. He's always playing a bit hesitant at first. I want more souls from him with every new deal, so I suppose it's to be expected… but with you at stake? He will be kissing my shiny Jimmy Choo's.”
Sam's eyes darted around, sharp and quick; hunter's. The witch had a point. Crowley wouldn't let this chance pass him and any minute now, he could contact her to agree on the terms. Or he could cheat and find this place of hiding, crashing here with a demon party. Either way, the result for them was going to be the same.
They needed to get out of here. And fast.
“The question is how we're going to pass the time we have,” the witch said, and all Sam could think then was a desperate litany of nonono.
Not again. No. His eyes found Castiel's. Maybe if the angel woke Dean up, he could help Cas escape the fire ring. The witch was powerful but they may be able to take her if they surprised her. Sam and Benny weren't much of a help now, but with Cas free, they stood a chance. Or the angel would at least be able to take Dean away to safety.
“Sammy, Sammy,” the witch cooed, “no thinking of escaping. I set the rules. And I say the game is far from over.”
Sam only managed to curse before the world dissolved around him with a flash of blinding white light.
...
Young Dean’s hands shook uncontrollably as he buttoned up his shirt. He was barely standing, swaying dangerously from side to side, his legs trembling so bad it looked like they were about to give out.
“Son of a bitch!”
They stood in the fucking living room, back in the last memory. There was no way they could escape now before Crowley got to them.
“Easy, there,” Benny said, laying his hand on Sam's shoulder.
Sam shrugged the hand off jerkily. “Easy?!“ He raked his fingers through his hair. “How can you be so goddamn-How can you be so calm!“
They were back. They were fucking back in the goddamn-and Sam had never been one to swear, but now he just-
“Believe me. I'm not,” Benny replied, eyes firmly set on Sam as if he was afraid to look around, “but we got to find a way out. We got to think, and right now, you're not thinkin' any clear.”
Sam huffed out a frustrated laugh. He looked at his brother; battered, so small and crushed. Dean’s head was lowered down so Sam couldn’t see his face. What he could see clearly than any nightmare he’d had in life was the son of a bitch sitting in the armchair, watching Dean with a small smirk and sprawled casually like he owned the moment. Which, by the look of things, he probably did.
Sam could not stand to look at him any longer. Taylor’s face was already imprinted deep in his memories. There was not going to be a single night he wouldn’t wake up sweating and seeing this smug grin flashing before his eyes.
“We need to find a way out,” Castiel said, sounding hoarse. Just when Taylor started talking.
“I guess I don’t need to remind you to keep this between us.”
Dean flinched at the reminder of the man still in the room but didn’t look up. He said nothing. He kept buttoning his shirt shakily, and Sam wondered, furious, what the hell his brother was doing here. He should have run home already. By now he should have been telling John about this bastard. So dad could come and blow his brains out. Sam wanted to see it in the next memory.
“Besides, who would believe you, right?” Taylor continued in a honeyed voice. “What d'you think, Deano? Will they believe me, a proper citizen… American hero? Or you, a delinquent without a permanent address who barely shows up in school? Even your daddy will think you’re lying to him.”
Dean’s eyes fixed on his bare feet. He turned around, searching for boots.
“Or worse, he’ll be disappointed in you. Even you must see it, how pathetic you are. What would daddy think of his tough eldest son turning into a little bitch? You can’t even take care of yourself. How can you take care of Sammy?”
The words were like poison, sinking through Dean’s skin. Sam thought no, that wasn’t right. It was a total bullshit. Dad would never. But Dean would of course believe these lies. Taylor was a manipulative son of a bitch, and Dean didn't think clearly at the moment.
Dean gave up trying to find his shoes and hurried to the front door. He was limping, in pain.
Sam closed his eyes, feeling sick. A brief thought of 'Away!' crossed his mind. And to his surprise and relief the surroundings changed.
...
A dimly lit hall replaced the interior of the living room and the stuffy air there. Sam was able to breathe a bit, the nausea retracting reluctantly.
Dean stood in front of their apartment's door, still wearing the same clothes, the same pale look just like seconds ago. For him it must have been no more than a few minutes. He was clenching the door handle tightly, palm sweating. His feet wobbled unsteadily.
“Sam, how did you do it?” Cas inquired.
Unlike Sam, his eyes had never left any of the memory Deans whether Sam's brother was happy or in pain, or like now looking broken beyond repair. Cas was strong that way. He was able to look at Dean and see his strength and beauty; be Dean's life-line and not get pulled in the misery. Sam wasn't able to do that. Not now, at least. He looked at his brother, and felt his world crumble piece by damn piece.
He had to turn his side to Dean, enough so his brother remained in his peripheral vision, but not enough so Sam could breathe and think clearly without Dean's hollow eyes filling his mind. He wished he could borrow half of Cas' strength.
“That was you?” Benny asked, eyes ticking between Sam and Cas.
“I-I don't know. Maybe,” Sam said. “I mean, I thought like, away, and then the scene changed.”
“The memories must continue to react at your commands,” Cas mused aloud, frowning. “Can you think to get us out?”
Sam tried. Closing his eyes, he concentrated. But nothing happened. He looked at his companions helplessly.
Benny turned to Cas. “Now what, Sherlock?”
“My name is not Sherlock.”
“How do you know who Sherlock is?” Sam asked Benny, incredulous.
“I didn't spend all my life in Purgatory, bud.”
Right. Sam cast a quick glance at Dean. It didn't look like his brother would be moving any time soon. Sam needed to hug him and fall apart together with him; with this and the real one, but this one he wouldn't be able to touch and for the real Dean he had to first get out of here. But how?
A thought occurred to him.
“The witch. She said the game wasn't over yet. What if-what if when we finish this sick idea of a 'game', it ends?”
Benny looked at him skeptically. "Meaning, we have to paddle in all kid's memories to get out?"
Cas tilted his head. “Maybe. But the witch appears to be very intelligent and a powerful being. Her witchcraft even wins against my powers, which rarely ever happens. I think we were able to wake up the first two times simply because she eased the spell. I doubt it'll be this easy again.”
So it was possible that they'd waste time and the witch would in the end be the only one able to get them out, but in Sam's opinion, it was worth the risk. They didn't have much choice, anyway.
"Keep trying to change the memories, however," Cas added, "I'm sure it was you who did it, and these memories continues to react to you. It may help us move faster."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, okay." He could do that. At least he had something to focus on. A goal.
“Hold it a bit," Benny said. "Let's say it works and let's say we figure a way out. What do we do then? It's not like we can just up and make a run for it.”
Benny was right. They were tied down, quite literally, and Cas wouldn't be able to escape. But this is what Sam had been thinking about when the witch caught him and sent them back into Dean's head. He may have had a solution.
“You have to wake Dean,” he said to Cas.
“No.”
“Cas-“
“I said no, Sam,” the angel growled. “I won't make this any harder on Dean than it already is. I will wake him up and take care of him when we're somewhere safe.”
Sam sighed. “Look, Cas, I know you must hate me right now, and believe me when I say, I kind of hate myself too. But Dean is tough, he can handle it. He's the only one free. The witch has underestimated him, and right now, he's our only chance to escape. He's his only chance to escape.”
“The witch'll be there, though,” Benny said.
Sam nodded. “Yeah, but if we're quick enough, than maybe-”
Right then, the door to the motel room opened abruptly and John Winchester strode out, nearly knocking Dean down. “Jesus Christ, son!” he exclaimed gruffly. “What're ya lurking here for?"
When Dean regained his lost balance, John took in his ghastly appearance and his dirty bare feet. "What the hell happened to you?”
Dean just looked at him, crumpling the hem of his shirt with a trembling hand. He opened his mouth but closed it promptly.
“Well?” John looked to be in a hurry, and when Dean's silence stretched, he said impatiently, “Dean, I don't have all day.”
“I... I have to, I should-“
“Spit it out. You were fighting again, weren't you?”
“I-I...”
“Stop stuttering. I taught you better,” John cut him off, getting slightly annoyed. Sam remembered bitterly their dad had never been a level-headed man. He cared, he really did. But he had a hard time showing it. “Bobby called. He's got a hunch on the demon. We have to leave earlier. Call Sam and explain it to him. You understand? The two of us will have a little talk later.”
Dean nodded.
“Good.”
Dad turned his back on Dean and marched down the hall. Dean watched him with a closed off expression, never calling after him, never telling him.
The memory faded. On its own. Sam was too stunned by Dean's silence, he forgot to keep on trying to move them forward.
In the next memory, Dean's silence continued.
chapter eight
chapter ten