The Breaking Point (Closed RP for Sam and the yellow-eyed demon)
Dean: Because I am an awesome brother. What did you dream about?
Sam: Lollipops and candycanes.'>
"Everto, ego voco vos."
Candlelight flickered off of the stone walls, lending them a dark shine. The white of salt stood out harshly against the floor, like a wound, five deep gashes forming a star, the graceful curve of a circle surrounding it. Smoke wafted gently in some unseen breeze, parting to allow the boy to cross, filling the space behind him with a gray curtain.
"Quod redimio vos per meus mos."
Sam paced along the outside of his circle. Dirt from a grave was scattered as he chanted, the musky smell of earth mixing with the scent of smoke and burning herbs and adding to the cloying, claustrophobic feel of the room. A book was gripped tightly in his hands, long fingers wrapping around the leather cover as if by clinging to it, he could be sure that this went according to plan.
"Ut vos es accersitus, iam videor!"
The final words left his lips and hung on the air. Heart pounding, Sam froze, waiting. The summoning ritual had been one he'd found in a book. He hadn't dared to use their dad's journal - not only would Dean certainly notice the loss of it, but if something should go wrong, it might fall into the wrong hands. But he'd checked the incantations a thousand times against notes in the journal before he'd started. This would work. It had to work.
He hoped.
The smoke stilled, suddenly, as if it'd become at once a living thing and was starting at some as of yet unseen danger. Then, with violent force, it was sucked into the center of the circle, the air clearing with a loud pop. Then a shape began to form. A man. It solidified into the body the yellow-eyed demon was currently possessing. Eyes snapping open, the demon glowered for a second before recognizing Sam. A smile replaced it's scowl; though the frown was preferable to the pee-your-pants nightmare of a grin.
"Sammy." His name was hissed out with a quiet sigh of pleasure. Like the name of a lover breathed from a corpse's lips.
"Don't call me that," he grit out, eyes narrowing. "No one gets to call me that."
"Except Dean."
"You're not Dean."
"I could be."
The threat hung in the air and Sam very nearly forgot himself and charged over the circle. But holding his control with tenuous threads, he clenched his fist and stood, for a second, gathering himself. "Shut up." An order barked out, Sam sounding much like his older brother. "I want to make a deal."
The demon's eyes lit up hungrily. "Oh, Sammy," he said the name carefully, deliberately, and smiled at Sam's furrowed brow. "Don't you know better? You don't need to make deals. You can have the whole enchilada. Just say the word."
"I just want one deal, scumbag. Then you can go back to reading 'One-Liners for Villains' and I'll go back to figuring out how to kick your ass straight back to hell."
The demon cocked its head, considering. Then he nodded. "What do you want, Sam my boy?"
"Whatever you're doing to Dean. With Rachel. I want you to stop."
"She made a deal..."
"Then unmake it."
"Can't do that, Sammy. Wouldn't be gentlemanly of me. Pretty lady makes a deal...well, it's only right I honor that." The demon was getting far too much pleasure out of this. "Why the concern? She got a good bargain out of me. Experienced, that one. Is Dean," he paused, savoring it, "not taking it well?"
Understatement of the year. Dean barely left his hut anymore. His brother was hurting, Sam could see it, and it all came back to this son of a bitch using people to torture Dean. Sam couldn't give a fuck about Rachel. But his brother... Well, he'd walk through hell itself for Dean. And right now, whatever foul little deal Rachel'd made with the demon was killing Dean. That wasn't the only problem, not by a long shot, but it was one Sam could fix. Start there, deal with the rest later.
"Unmake it," Sam repeated, face blank, eyes hard.
"Can't do it," the demon replied jovially. "But..." Oh, how many humans had fallen for the false hoped offered in that one word?
"What?" He snapped at it, eager to take the bait.
"We can make a new deal. Erase Rachel's, substitute you. For a price."
Sam, even in his eager desperation, was no newbie at this. "What was her deal?"
"She stayed away from him, any and all contact with him, unless he summoned her. I did the same." The demon's eyes watched Sam avidly, judging his reaction. "If she broke the deal, I got to sit outside dear Dean-o's window and sing to him in your mother's voice until he went mad."
Horror, sour and thick, slammed through Sam. Dear God, Rachel, what the hell... But he understood it. Even as he mentally rolled his eyes at the stupidity, he got it. She'd been trying to protect Dean. Sam could hardly fault her for that. But it had outlived its usefulness; Sam was fairly certain that at this point, his brother would rather just face the demon head on than have all this lurking in shadows shit. Dean wasn't exactly a subtle man.
"I'm not taking on her side of that," Sam stipulated. And the demon could see its victory. Nothing left now but the semantics.
"Fine. A higher price, then, to cover both her end and yours."
Wary brown eyes watched the demon pace. "Not my soul."
The demon waved that off. "Please. I already all but have your soul. No, I want something a bit more immediate." He paused, then turned slowly back to Sam. "Twenty-four hours. I want twenty-four hours, you can keep your soul, but I want the body."
Sam decided to let the 'all but have your soul' thing go for the moment. It wasn't true, couldn't be true, he wouldn't let it be true. Besides, there were more pressing matters. "You want to possess me?"
"Yes."
His first instinct was a 'hell no' followed by sending the demon back to wherever it'd been before. But Sam hesitated, wavering. The frustrating, helpless terror of being possessed was not something he wanted to repeat. But he was doing it for Dean. To try and muscle together his brother's shreds of sanity. And it was only twenty-four hours. Swallowing back the tide of nausea at the mere thought of what he was about to agree to, Sam narrowed his eyes at the demon. "You have exactly twenty-four hours. Not a minute more. And it starts twenty-four hours from the moment we make the deal." That would give him time to prepare. To get as far away from here, and Dean, as possible. "You possess my body, but you don't touch my soul. And you don't harm my body in any way. No killing it, no breaking my bones, nothing. In exchange, you absolve the deal you made with Rachel. Including the punishment for breaking it."
The demon had scoffed slightly, muttering, "As if I'd damage the merchandise," but otherwise was agreeable to the conditions. Save one. "And you don't get to tell anyone. Not Dean, not that nosy little red-headed professor, not the doctor with the wavy hair. None of them. No note, no explanation." He smiled. "Deal?"
For a moment, he wavered. Then, setting his jaw, Sam met the demon's eyes unflinchingly. "Deal."
There was a hot, painful burning sensation as the demon mark seared into the skin on Sam's left wrist. With a loud bang, the demon disappeared, the candles blowing out at his departure. Letting out a breath Sam hadn't realized he'd been holding, he scrubbed his face with one shaky hand.
"Voco has nisus. EGO solvo vos tergum quo vos venit."
The ending incantation was whispered, breaking the summoning and making sure the demon couldn't lurk. Then Sam broke the circle with his toe and headed out the door. He had to hurry. He had one day to put as much distance between Hogwarts and himself as possible.
Oh, this was going to end well.
Sam: Lollipops and candycanes.'>
"Everto, ego voco vos."
Candlelight flickered off of the stone walls, lending them a dark shine. The white of salt stood out harshly against the floor, like a wound, five deep gashes forming a star, the graceful curve of a circle surrounding it. Smoke wafted gently in some unseen breeze, parting to allow the boy to cross, filling the space behind him with a gray curtain.
"Quod redimio vos per meus mos."
Sam paced along the outside of his circle. Dirt from a grave was scattered as he chanted, the musky smell of earth mixing with the scent of smoke and burning herbs and adding to the cloying, claustrophobic feel of the room. A book was gripped tightly in his hands, long fingers wrapping around the leather cover as if by clinging to it, he could be sure that this went according to plan.
"Ut vos es accersitus, iam videor!"
The final words left his lips and hung on the air. Heart pounding, Sam froze, waiting. The summoning ritual had been one he'd found in a book. He hadn't dared to use their dad's journal - not only would Dean certainly notice the loss of it, but if something should go wrong, it might fall into the wrong hands. But he'd checked the incantations a thousand times against notes in the journal before he'd started. This would work. It had to work.
He hoped.
The smoke stilled, suddenly, as if it'd become at once a living thing and was starting at some as of yet unseen danger. Then, with violent force, it was sucked into the center of the circle, the air clearing with a loud pop. Then a shape began to form. A man. It solidified into the body the yellow-eyed demon was currently possessing. Eyes snapping open, the demon glowered for a second before recognizing Sam. A smile replaced it's scowl; though the frown was preferable to the pee-your-pants nightmare of a grin.
"Sammy." His name was hissed out with a quiet sigh of pleasure. Like the name of a lover breathed from a corpse's lips.
"Don't call me that," he grit out, eyes narrowing. "No one gets to call me that."
"Except Dean."
"You're not Dean."
"I could be."
The threat hung in the air and Sam very nearly forgot himself and charged over the circle. But holding his control with tenuous threads, he clenched his fist and stood, for a second, gathering himself. "Shut up." An order barked out, Sam sounding much like his older brother. "I want to make a deal."
The demon's eyes lit up hungrily. "Oh, Sammy," he said the name carefully, deliberately, and smiled at Sam's furrowed brow. "Don't you know better? You don't need to make deals. You can have the whole enchilada. Just say the word."
"I just want one deal, scumbag. Then you can go back to reading 'One-Liners for Villains' and I'll go back to figuring out how to kick your ass straight back to hell."
The demon cocked its head, considering. Then he nodded. "What do you want, Sam my boy?"
"Whatever you're doing to Dean. With Rachel. I want you to stop."
"She made a deal..."
"Then unmake it."
"Can't do that, Sammy. Wouldn't be gentlemanly of me. Pretty lady makes a deal...well, it's only right I honor that." The demon was getting far too much pleasure out of this. "Why the concern? She got a good bargain out of me. Experienced, that one. Is Dean," he paused, savoring it, "not taking it well?"
Understatement of the year. Dean barely left his hut anymore. His brother was hurting, Sam could see it, and it all came back to this son of a bitch using people to torture Dean. Sam couldn't give a fuck about Rachel. But his brother... Well, he'd walk through hell itself for Dean. And right now, whatever foul little deal Rachel'd made with the demon was killing Dean. That wasn't the only problem, not by a long shot, but it was one Sam could fix. Start there, deal with the rest later.
"Unmake it," Sam repeated, face blank, eyes hard.
"Can't do it," the demon replied jovially. "But..." Oh, how many humans had fallen for the false hoped offered in that one word?
"What?" He snapped at it, eager to take the bait.
"We can make a new deal. Erase Rachel's, substitute you. For a price."
Sam, even in his eager desperation, was no newbie at this. "What was her deal?"
"She stayed away from him, any and all contact with him, unless he summoned her. I did the same." The demon's eyes watched Sam avidly, judging his reaction. "If she broke the deal, I got to sit outside dear Dean-o's window and sing to him in your mother's voice until he went mad."
Horror, sour and thick, slammed through Sam. Dear God, Rachel, what the hell... But he understood it. Even as he mentally rolled his eyes at the stupidity, he got it. She'd been trying to protect Dean. Sam could hardly fault her for that. But it had outlived its usefulness; Sam was fairly certain that at this point, his brother would rather just face the demon head on than have all this lurking in shadows shit. Dean wasn't exactly a subtle man.
"I'm not taking on her side of that," Sam stipulated. And the demon could see its victory. Nothing left now but the semantics.
"Fine. A higher price, then, to cover both her end and yours."
Wary brown eyes watched the demon pace. "Not my soul."
The demon waved that off. "Please. I already all but have your soul. No, I want something a bit more immediate." He paused, then turned slowly back to Sam. "Twenty-four hours. I want twenty-four hours, you can keep your soul, but I want the body."
Sam decided to let the 'all but have your soul' thing go for the moment. It wasn't true, couldn't be true, he wouldn't let it be true. Besides, there were more pressing matters. "You want to possess me?"
"Yes."
His first instinct was a 'hell no' followed by sending the demon back to wherever it'd been before. But Sam hesitated, wavering. The frustrating, helpless terror of being possessed was not something he wanted to repeat. But he was doing it for Dean. To try and muscle together his brother's shreds of sanity. And it was only twenty-four hours. Swallowing back the tide of nausea at the mere thought of what he was about to agree to, Sam narrowed his eyes at the demon. "You have exactly twenty-four hours. Not a minute more. And it starts twenty-four hours from the moment we make the deal." That would give him time to prepare. To get as far away from here, and Dean, as possible. "You possess my body, but you don't touch my soul. And you don't harm my body in any way. No killing it, no breaking my bones, nothing. In exchange, you absolve the deal you made with Rachel. Including the punishment for breaking it."
The demon had scoffed slightly, muttering, "As if I'd damage the merchandise," but otherwise was agreeable to the conditions. Save one. "And you don't get to tell anyone. Not Dean, not that nosy little red-headed professor, not the doctor with the wavy hair. None of them. No note, no explanation." He smiled. "Deal?"
For a moment, he wavered. Then, setting his jaw, Sam met the demon's eyes unflinchingly. "Deal."
There was a hot, painful burning sensation as the demon mark seared into the skin on Sam's left wrist. With a loud bang, the demon disappeared, the candles blowing out at his departure. Letting out a breath Sam hadn't realized he'd been holding, he scrubbed his face with one shaky hand.
"Voco has nisus. EGO solvo vos tergum quo vos venit."
The ending incantation was whispered, breaking the summoning and making sure the demon couldn't lurk. Then Sam broke the circle with his toe and headed out the door. He had to hurry. He had one day to put as much distance between Hogwarts and himself as possible.
Oh, this was going to end well.