Orders of an Elder Time, 3/?
Title: Orders of an Elder Time, 3/?
Verse: The Libation Bearers
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: reading_is_in
Characters: Ben/Adam, Bobby.
Genre: Drama
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All recognized characters from ‘Supernatural’ are property of Eric Kripke/CW. This fan fiction is not for profit.
Summary: Follows Events in Sun and Shadows. The year is 2019. Adam and Ben are making some kind of life together. But the demon, to coin a phrase, is still out there, and Ben's dreams start to take a strange turn.
Warnings: Major characters...are dead, later gore, more angst than you can shake a very angsty stick at.
The rest of the afternoon was desultory - by the time they got home, Bobby had already received the call from Jane’s mother’s cell, and she’d told him she’d be there around seven-thirty. There was nothing to be done until then - the boys lifted some weights to keep in training, and Ben went for a run, alone. A moment of apprehension crossed Adam’s face, but he didn’t say anything. Outside of hunting, despite being the elder, he had never told Ben what to do or not, what was safe and what was dangerous.
June was on the downturn into July, and seven-thirty found all four of the house residents them sitting out on the porch. Adam sat in the shade, sharpening a steel knife with rhythmic strokes, Bobby in his recliner positioned to absorb the evening sun. Tara lay next to him with her tail tucked under and her head on her front paws. The dog had absorbed the mood of apprehension: every so often, she raised her head to look around, and thumped her tail on the decking as though in reassurance. Ben sat on the step with his chin in his hand, turned towards the gates. He was working to keep his mind blank and not anticipate anything. The vision - or whatever it was - lurked at the corners of his consciousness, blood and black eyes threatening to close in if he relaxed his constant effort.
At seven-thirty-eight a car’s rumble became audible in the distance. A dust cloud gave way to a red Toyota, and as it entered the yard, Ben could see Jane in the front passenger seat. There was something a little bit awkward about just sitting there, so Ben and Adam stood up to greet their guests, offering handshakes:
“Tara Wakefield,” the older woman introduced herself with a residual English accent, and the boys gave their real names. Of course the dog pricked up her ears upon hearing her own name, looked inquisitive, and started trotting towards the guests -
“Um,” - this was rather embarrassing. “She’s Tara too. I mean, that’s her name.” Ben indicated the dog.
“A good choice,” human Tara approved, petted the dog’s face and said, “for a wise animal.”
Ben wondered if psychic ability extended to animals, as the two Taras seemed to commune with each other a moment.
“Hello Mr. Singer,” said Jane politely. She had changed out of her work clothes. Tara spoke a few words with Bobby, then turned back to the boys:
“Let’s go inside. I’m afraid this won’ t be particularly pleasant, for you or me, Ben.”
They arranged themselves around the kitchen table. Bobby set out iced tea but no-one really drank it. Adam sat close to Ben, then made to get up again:
“Do you the need the - curtains drawn? Or anything?”
“Not particularly,” Tara addressed Ben: “Would that make you feel more comfortable?”
“I don’t know,” Ben said
Adam got up and drew the curtains. Jane was busy setting out herbs in a little a dish. She drew a match and lit them. A heady scent filled the dull kitchen.
“Just try to relax,” Tara said, “and recall the moments just before your vision.”
Ben saw himself in the mini-mart again, reaching out his hand.
Tara touched his face. His eyes closed.
Blank.
He saw static.
“Nothing,” said Tara, sighed and sat back. Ben opened his eyes. To his shock, the kitchen was
noticeably darker and most of the iced tea was gone. It felt like a minute had passed at most.
“All that for nothing!” Adam exclaimed.
“How - long-”
“A little more than an hour,” Jane said quietly.
“That’s how long it takes for a thorough determination,” Tara sighed and sat back in her chair. “Ben Braedon, congratulations: you are not a psychic.”
“I’m not?” Ben stupid and disorientated. He’d never lost time like that.
“Not even a hint of it,” Tara shook her head.
“But then how-...”
“I’d suggest the demon is one. A particularly powerful psychic with an element of thought-control. That wasn’t a vision - it was a message intended and sent directly to you.”
“But - why? What’s the point of it?” Ben heard the anguish in his own voice. Did that mean all his nightmares had also been orchestrated? Adam squeezed his fingers under the table, and Ben squeezed back, too hard.
“I have no idea. Was there anything in the message like an instruction?”
“No. It probably just wants to torture me.” ‘Oh God’. This meant the demon could torment him forever - replay his family’s death in front of his eyes whenever it wanted to.
“I don’t know...even for a powerful psychic, that kind of projection takes a lot of effort. I think if all it wanted to torment you, it would find an easier way.”
“Maybe it doesn’t know where he is,” Adam suggested.
“Think hard,” Tara urged. “I know you don’t want to. But - was there anything in the vision besides the, um, murder?”
“I don’t know,” Ben buried his face in his hands. “It was just - in a warehouse - it was dark, and I heard my mom scream. It was stabbing her with a knife.”
“What was the warehouse like?”
“Just...a warehouse! It was dark, and I couldn’t see that much....there were crates, packing boxes.”
“Did it say anything on the boxes?”
“Is this really necessary?” Adam said tightly.
“She wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t,” said Jane.
“Um...no,” Ben shook his head. “Just letters....wait.” A flash of memory. A wooden crate. Behind the image of the demon. And printed on it: “It said: cap.”
“Cap?”
“C-A-P.”
“Does that mean anything to you?” Tara asked.
Ben’s mouth fell open. “C-A-P! CAP LLC is a company. Was a packing and assembly in Indiana. My - my uncle worked there for a little while. It went bust, and the warehouses were abandoned. It’s in Indiana! It’s at my home!”
“I would suggest you have your answer,” Tara said quietly. “The demon is letting you know its location. It’s summoning you.”
“Then why didn’t it just - show itself at my house?”
“I doubt it has the power for that degree of image manipulation. What you saw was probably - close to what really happened. I’m sorry,” she added.
Ben felt numb.
“Thank you for your help,” Adam said, getting up. He had that cool tone that he got when he was angry but there was no logical target for the anger.
“For what it’s worth, you’re quite welcome.” Tara rose. “Any friend of Bobby Singer’s, as the hunter adage has it.”
The boys looked to Bobby, who looked implacable.
“I’m going to bed,” said Ben abruptly. He pushed his chair back and stood up.
“Good idea,” said Tara. “Call if there’s anything else I can do...or if it...messages you again.”
“Which reminds me - got a book you might be interested in, Ms. Wakefield,” Bobby tugged at his cap.
“I hope this isn’t any form of payment. If it wasn’t for you, my brother and sister-in-law would be dead right now.”
“Call it a mutual exchange of useful information.” Tara smiled and the older people disappeared into the study.
"Be careful, okay?” Jane said nervously to the boys. “Don’t just - go running after it. That’s what it wants, so it’s probably got some trap planned for you.”
“I’ve been in traps before,” said Adam shortly. “I’ve turned traps on the trappers,” This was about as impolite as Ben had ever seen him.
“On a demon?” Jane asked.
Adam frowned, and said nothing.
Part Four
Verse: The Libation Bearers
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: reading_is_in
Characters: Ben/Adam, Bobby.
Genre: Drama
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All recognized characters from ‘Supernatural’ are property of Eric Kripke/CW. This fan fiction is not for profit.
Summary: Follows Events in Sun and Shadows. The year is 2019. Adam and Ben are making some kind of life together. But the demon, to coin a phrase, is still out there, and Ben's dreams start to take a strange turn.
Warnings: Major characters...are dead, later gore, more angst than you can shake a very angsty stick at.
The rest of the afternoon was desultory - by the time they got home, Bobby had already received the call from Jane’s mother’s cell, and she’d told him she’d be there around seven-thirty. There was nothing to be done until then - the boys lifted some weights to keep in training, and Ben went for a run, alone. A moment of apprehension crossed Adam’s face, but he didn’t say anything. Outside of hunting, despite being the elder, he had never told Ben what to do or not, what was safe and what was dangerous.
June was on the downturn into July, and seven-thirty found all four of the house residents them sitting out on the porch. Adam sat in the shade, sharpening a steel knife with rhythmic strokes, Bobby in his recliner positioned to absorb the evening sun. Tara lay next to him with her tail tucked under and her head on her front paws. The dog had absorbed the mood of apprehension: every so often, she raised her head to look around, and thumped her tail on the decking as though in reassurance. Ben sat on the step with his chin in his hand, turned towards the gates. He was working to keep his mind blank and not anticipate anything. The vision - or whatever it was - lurked at the corners of his consciousness, blood and black eyes threatening to close in if he relaxed his constant effort.
At seven-thirty-eight a car’s rumble became audible in the distance. A dust cloud gave way to a red Toyota, and as it entered the yard, Ben could see Jane in the front passenger seat. There was something a little bit awkward about just sitting there, so Ben and Adam stood up to greet their guests, offering handshakes:
“Tara Wakefield,” the older woman introduced herself with a residual English accent, and the boys gave their real names. Of course the dog pricked up her ears upon hearing her own name, looked inquisitive, and started trotting towards the guests -
“Um,” - this was rather embarrassing. “She’s Tara too. I mean, that’s her name.” Ben indicated the dog.
“A good choice,” human Tara approved, petted the dog’s face and said, “for a wise animal.”
Ben wondered if psychic ability extended to animals, as the two Taras seemed to commune with each other a moment.
“Hello Mr. Singer,” said Jane politely. She had changed out of her work clothes. Tara spoke a few words with Bobby, then turned back to the boys:
“Let’s go inside. I’m afraid this won’ t be particularly pleasant, for you or me, Ben.”
They arranged themselves around the kitchen table. Bobby set out iced tea but no-one really drank it. Adam sat close to Ben, then made to get up again:
“Do you the need the - curtains drawn? Or anything?”
“Not particularly,” Tara addressed Ben: “Would that make you feel more comfortable?”
“I don’t know,” Ben said
Adam got up and drew the curtains. Jane was busy setting out herbs in a little a dish. She drew a match and lit them. A heady scent filled the dull kitchen.
“Just try to relax,” Tara said, “and recall the moments just before your vision.”
Ben saw himself in the mini-mart again, reaching out his hand.
Tara touched his face. His eyes closed.
Blank.
He saw static.
“Nothing,” said Tara, sighed and sat back. Ben opened his eyes. To his shock, the kitchen was
noticeably darker and most of the iced tea was gone. It felt like a minute had passed at most.
“All that for nothing!” Adam exclaimed.
“How - long-”
“A little more than an hour,” Jane said quietly.
“That’s how long it takes for a thorough determination,” Tara sighed and sat back in her chair. “Ben Braedon, congratulations: you are not a psychic.”
“I’m not?” Ben stupid and disorientated. He’d never lost time like that.
“Not even a hint of it,” Tara shook her head.
“But then how-...”
“I’d suggest the demon is one. A particularly powerful psychic with an element of thought-control. That wasn’t a vision - it was a message intended and sent directly to you.”
“But - why? What’s the point of it?” Ben heard the anguish in his own voice. Did that mean all his nightmares had also been orchestrated? Adam squeezed his fingers under the table, and Ben squeezed back, too hard.
“I have no idea. Was there anything in the message like an instruction?”
“No. It probably just wants to torture me.” ‘Oh God’. This meant the demon could torment him forever - replay his family’s death in front of his eyes whenever it wanted to.
“I don’t know...even for a powerful psychic, that kind of projection takes a lot of effort. I think if all it wanted to torment you, it would find an easier way.”
“Maybe it doesn’t know where he is,” Adam suggested.
“Think hard,” Tara urged. “I know you don’t want to. But - was there anything in the vision besides the, um, murder?”
“I don’t know,” Ben buried his face in his hands. “It was just - in a warehouse - it was dark, and I heard my mom scream. It was stabbing her with a knife.”
“What was the warehouse like?”
“Just...a warehouse! It was dark, and I couldn’t see that much....there were crates, packing boxes.”
“Did it say anything on the boxes?”
“Is this really necessary?” Adam said tightly.
“She wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t,” said Jane.
“Um...no,” Ben shook his head. “Just letters....wait.” A flash of memory. A wooden crate. Behind the image of the demon. And printed on it: “It said: cap.”
“Cap?”
“C-A-P.”
“Does that mean anything to you?” Tara asked.
Ben’s mouth fell open. “C-A-P! CAP LLC is a company. Was a packing and assembly in Indiana. My - my uncle worked there for a little while. It went bust, and the warehouses were abandoned. It’s in Indiana! It’s at my home!”
“I would suggest you have your answer,” Tara said quietly. “The demon is letting you know its location. It’s summoning you.”
“Then why didn’t it just - show itself at my house?”
“I doubt it has the power for that degree of image manipulation. What you saw was probably - close to what really happened. I’m sorry,” she added.
Ben felt numb.
“Thank you for your help,” Adam said, getting up. He had that cool tone that he got when he was angry but there was no logical target for the anger.
“For what it’s worth, you’re quite welcome.” Tara rose. “Any friend of Bobby Singer’s, as the hunter adage has it.”
The boys looked to Bobby, who looked implacable.
“I’m going to bed,” said Ben abruptly. He pushed his chair back and stood up.
“Good idea,” said Tara. “Call if there’s anything else I can do...or if it...messages you again.”
“Which reminds me - got a book you might be interested in, Ms. Wakefield,” Bobby tugged at his cap.
“I hope this isn’t any form of payment. If it wasn’t for you, my brother and sister-in-law would be dead right now.”
“Call it a mutual exchange of useful information.” Tara smiled and the older people disappeared into the study.
"Be careful, okay?” Jane said nervously to the boys. “Don’t just - go running after it. That’s what it wants, so it’s probably got some trap planned for you.”
“I’ve been in traps before,” said Adam shortly. “I’ve turned traps on the trappers,” This was about as impolite as Ben had ever seen him.
“On a demon?” Jane asked.
Adam frowned, and said nothing.
Part Four