The Witch and the Wolfen, Sam/Dean, 7/10
¤ ¤ ¤
Master Post | Prologue + Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5
Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 + Epilogue || ART
Chapter 7 - Fire of Unknown Origin
The next day was uneventful. Dean scented a deer nearby, but Sam said they had plenty of meat in the fridge right now, so he let it go. Only an hour out from the Bunker, they smelled smoke. Dean climbed an old-growth oak at the top of a rise to take a look around.
“So, what do you see?” Sam yelled from the base of the tree.
“Looks like the fire is coming from Lawrence. Black, oily smoke, more smoke than a regular house fire. Must be from the industrial side of town?” Dean climbed back down. “Can we help?” Dean jumped the last few feet to the ground and brushed his clothes off.
“I know a couple of rain spells. I could cast one from here, and we could follow up in person.”
“I think anything we could do would be a help.”
Sam nodded and unpacked his supplies, including his copper bowl, some candles, and a rolled pack of herbs and supplies that looked like a tool belt. While Sam sorted through his magical supplied, Dean tethered Cas a short ways away where there was a rich patch of grass.
“I need a feather.” Sam looked up at Dean. “Please.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m a wolfen, not a damn eagle. Do I shoot one down?”
“I guess. Unless you stumble across a nest. I just need a feather. Any species will do. A creature of the air.”
“Okay, on it.”
By the time Dean came back with the requested feathers-several, in fact, from a discarded robins’ nest he’d spotted on the ground-Sam was already kneeling cross legged in front of his altar, covered with a small blanket and his copper bowl, half full of water, in the center with a candle to the left and right of the bowl. Four small wooden bowls sat, one at each corner on the altar - one with a small pile of salt, one with a small bundle of twigs, and one with water.
Dean passed the feathers to Sam. “Thanks.” Sam placed them in the empty bowl.
He murmured something, and the two candles lit up. Then he poured a handful of water into his palm and let it sprinkle down into the copper bowl as he closed his eyes and began to chant.
Non enim ignis aerem pluvia necesse est caderepluet vitam
Over and over he chanted. His tattoos began to move, and the water in the copper bowl began to swirl, turning a rich blue. Slowly, ribbons of blue smoke curled out of the bowl.
As more and more smokey ribbons rose, they formed a sphere overhead. It reminded Dean of an oversized soap bubble. Images of clouds began to form inside it. It was like seeing an image on Sam’s television but this time the images were inside the hovering bubble. Clouds began to rush by inside the bubble. They grew larger and darker by the second and were soon joined by lightning and wind cracking and roaring inside. More lightning cracked, some bolts so strong they looked like they might break out of the sphere’s at any moment.
Sam did a throwing gesture, and the blue storm sphere immediately began to move towards Lawrence. Suddenly it stopped as if a great hand had grabbed it flung it back toward him. Sam threw up his arms, halting the sphere from crashing to the ground. A struggle ensued, with Sam trying to push the sphere toward the town and the opposing force trying to stop him. Outside the sphere, the wind rose, howling around them like a wraith storm, Sam chanting at the top of his lungs as the sphere bobbled overhead.
Dean didn’t have a whole lot of experience watching Sam do spell work, but something was obviously going wrong, something was fighting Sam. He didn’t want to touch Sam in case that affected the spell; he could only stand there, helpless, until Sam got things under control again.
Rain began to fall, soaking them both to the bone. Then the lightning breached the sphere, hitting Sam in the chest. Somehow, he was able to absorb the strike and stay upright, but in the blowback, Dean was flung back through the air, narrowly missing a tree and slammed to the ground. He staggered to his feet relatively unhurt by the blast.
Still conscious, Sam grimaced in pain and crossed his arms, chanting through the blowing wind. Darkness began to gather around him and then he suddenly flung his arms wide and sent a terrific blast of lightning back into the sphere, hopefully knocking the unknown force back. Sam continued to chant, the Latin shifting and a purple glow grew around him. Sam made a gathering gesture, pulling all the purple energy around him into a ball. Once it had grown to something even larger than the weather sphere, he threw it at it with a primal scream. The purple energy surrounded the sphere, snapping and crackling in the sky, and then there was a sudden boom and blast of air, this time knocking both Dean and Sam to the ground.
When Dean got to his feet again, the sphere was back to its previous blue. The lightning and thunder had dissipated, and inside it rain began to fall.
Once the rain was falling hard and fast inside the sphere, Sam once again pushed it toward Lawrence. This time nothing interfered, and the spell sphere moved toward the town uninterrupted. Sam stopped chanting and slumped in exhaustion.
Dean followed the sphere’s passage for as far as he could see until it disappeared in the distance.
By that time thick black plumes of smoke were visible above the tree line even from ground level. Suddenly clouds formed over the town. Dean watched in fascination as the clouds thickened and grew darker, and finally, the grey shadow of rain could be made out even from all these miles away.
He turned back to Sam. “You did it.” But Sam was unconscious on the ground.
Dean rushed over and pulled Sam into his arms. The witch was ice cold. Dean flinched and shoved his jacket under Sam’s head to form a pillow while he rushed to their pack and dug out a bedroll to cover Sam up. Sam was completely unresponsive. All his energy must have been used to cast the spell.
Dean hurried to make a small fire and then grabbed the other bedroll and lay down beside Sam, pulling the man into his arms again as he covered them both.
“Don’t you worry, Sammy. I’ll get you warmed up in no time.” Dean lay there desperately sifting through ideas of what else he could do; then it hit him. Nothing in the world was warmer than wolfen fur. He tore off his clothes, boots barely discarded before he shifted. His wolfen hearing was barely able to pick out the beat of his heart. Dean lay down and pulled Sam into his chest, next to his fur, and then used his teeth to pull the bedroll up over the rest of Sam.
Sam’s body slowly warmed but his heartbeat was still faint. Dean feared he had so drained himself of energy he might die. Then Dean remembered the bond. He concentrated on it and tried to feel his connection to Sam, tried to funnel some of his energy into his mate.
He wasn’t sure if it was working, but after several long minutes, Sam’s eyelids moved and soon fluttered open. He looked up at Dean, a dazed look on his face.
[Hey, there you are.] Dean nuzzled him. [Everything okay?] He licked at Sam’s jaw.
Too exhausted to speak, Sam thought his answer. [There was someone there, fighting me when I tried to do the spell. They didn’t want me to succeed. It took everything I had to fight them off and finish it. That lightning strike damaged my heart. I’m healing it now, but if you hadn’t shared some of your life force with me, I think I might have died.]
Dean stared at Sam in shock. Heart damage! It was one thing to suspect something, quite another to have it confirmed. Who would be trying to hurt Sam? And holy crow, he actually had shared his energy through the bond.
“We should get going, help the people in Lawrence.” Sam tried to sit up, then slumped back in exhaustion.
Dean stayed resolutely put. [I think this little witch needs some rest. Besides, you’ve got the rain flowing. It’ll probably turn to snow shortly, but the fire will go out on its own now. And if there is something in Lawrence actively trying to kill you, I think we need a plan before we go in there, guns blazing.]
Sam huffed out a disappointed breath. [Suppose.]
[Let’s just have a little nap here, before we make it to the Bunker. We can figure out what we’re going to do first thing in the morning.] He leaned in to see Sam’s face.
Sam was already asleep.
¤ ¤ ¤
It was late in the afternoon before Sam showed any signs of moving. Dean knew there was no chance the witch could make the hour-long trek to the Bunker in his current state. And the travois wasn’t an option along this rocky approach. Sam needed to be kept warm since his body didn’t have enough energy to generate its own heat right now.
[Hey.] Sam lay curled into Dean’s warmth.
[Hey back. Listen, I managed to track down Cas. He was more than a little spooked by the lightshow you put on. I’m going to put you on his back and carry you home. I don't want us to be caught out in the open, in case your spellcasting equivalent on the dark side decides to pay us another visit.]
Sam just lay there for a moment, processing.
[Makes sense.]
[Okay, but tell me if it’s too much. Even if we can just get inside the Bunker’s shield radius, that will be a lot safer.]
Sam swallowed and nodded.
Dean extracted himself and then shifted, covering Sam and tucking the edges of the bedroll in tight.
[Would it be wimpy to say I want my heated blanket back?]
[Very wimpy!] Dean smiled, then suddenly realized he was talking to Sam in human form. [I can do this as a human, too?]
[Mmm.] Sam mumbled, too exhausted to do more.
Dean chuckled, stripping off any excess supplies they didn’t need off Cas. He could come back and pick these up later. Sam was the focus right now. He dismantled Sam’s altar carefully. Sam directing him in his head what to move first.
With grim determination, Dean pushed some more of his energy toward his mate, hoping he wasn’t sending too much. Then he hoisted Sam up onto Cas’s back. He used ropes to tie Sam to the pack harness. Cas for his part was obliging, and gentle.
[I’m sorry Dean. I’m just so exhausted.]
[Just hang on, that’s all you have to do.]
Now that Dean’s new tattoo kept Sam’s camouflaging spell from acting on him, Dean knew exactly where he was in the woods and where the Bunker was. Dean didn’t try to win any races; he just wanted to get to the Bunker with Sam in one piece.
Temperatures got colder but they still had an hour or so of sun left when Dean felt them reach the shield. He felt a moment’s resistance, before his ears popped as he walked through. He paused for a minute to assess their situation. Sam was unconscious again, but now they were relatively safe and on flatter ground. At this slow pace they had another half an hour until they reached the Bunker, and there was still a good two feet of snow on the ground, making travel difficult. Dean figured it was worth it to keep going, to have Sam rest in a warm bed tonight.
The sun had just set when Dean stood in front of the gate to the Bunker. He had to shift to punch in the pass code. He left Sam bundled by the gate on Cas’s back and went ahead to open the door. Fortunately, Sam had coded him in to the system and given him his own key. He led Cas to his stall with Sam slumped over him, and then rushed to the Bunker’s hospital where he’d noticed a wheelchair when he returned his scooter.
When he returned Sam was still out cold. He thanked his lucky stars for his wolfen strength as he transferred the tall witch from Cas, into the chair.
Sam’s room was much the same as Dean’s. The only major difference was the three bookcases filled to the brim with all kinds of texts, along with a well-used desk with a working laptop lying on it.
Dean laid his mate gently on the bed and found a thick set of flannel pajamas in his dresser. He piled all Sam’s cold damp clothing in a heap on the floor before changing him into the flannels and tucking him into bed. He covered him with an extra blanket from the closet.
[Still so cold.] Sam’s teeth chattered.
Dean debated briefly the benefits of going to get Sam some food, versus being his wolfen heating blanket, but blanket won out in the end.
As Dean stepped onto the bed in wolfen form to curl around Sam he said [I hope I don’t break this thing!]
Sam smiled, eyes still shut tight. [Much better.]
[Night, Sam]
[Night, Dean]
¤ ¤ ¤
Dean realized he’d been a bit optimistic thinking Sam would just bounce back overnight. In the morning he still looked pale and weak. At least his body temperature was normal, so some progress. Dean felt safe to leave the bed briefly to make breakfast, scrambled eggs and sausage and a thermos of coffee. He brought it all to the room on a tray.
Sam could barely stay awake long enough to swallow a few mouthfuls of eggs before he pushed Dean’s hand away. [Tired...]
Dean didn’t try to push it, just continued to funnel energy into his mate and hope it helped. He did realize he was actually starving himself, though. He inhaled the whole tray of food and still went back to the kitchen for the rest of the pie Sam had made and some leftover chicken. He thanked the stars for the preservation magic that kept everything in the fridge fresh. He definitely needed Sam to teach him that one. He continued to graze. He just couldn’t get enough in him.
As he snacked on leftover lasagna Sam had cooked, he wandered over to the giant wall of windows and looked out. In the far distant corner of the glass, he could just barely make out Lawrence. No smoke today, so Sam had definitely put the fire out. He could only wonder at the damage left behind.
The lasagna seemed to dent his raging hunger. So after cleaning up, he headed down to check on Cas. Last night he didn’t even have time to take off Cas’s pack, and make sure he had water and hay before he rushed Sam to his room.
With the curry comb he gave Cas a nice long rub and an extra helping of oats by way of apology. “He’ll be okay, boy. Just you wait and see. He’s a tough one, your witch.”
Cas nudged at Dean’s pocket. “Ha, you’re so onto me, eh?” Dean chuckled as he brought an apple out of his pocket. “Here you go. Enjoy.”
He carried their packs upstairs and stowed supplies where they belonged. He also put together a huge load of laundry. Sam had shown him where the washer and dryers were, and after adding in the clothes in Sam’s room, he set all the machines going. Sam was still fast asleep. Dean didn’t really want to wake him, at least not until supper.
Dean never thought of himself as particularly domestic. Sure, he’d washed his fair share of flannels and underwear in the nearest brook, but doing laundry in one of Sam’s magical machines was another whole level of soothing. The air was warm and a little moist, the clean scent of soap in the air. There was nothing more satisfying than to pull washed clothes fresh out of the dryer. Dean started to hum as he folded and separated everything.
Dean carried Sam’s fresh laundry into his room, still humming something from a symphony he had listened to a few days ago.
Sam mumbled something in his sleep. Dean climbed in to bed behind his mate and pulled him in close. [I’m here Sam. Not going anywhere.]
As he watched Sam’s troubled sleep, all the incidents from the last few days fell into place. He came to one undeniable conclusion: this was all because of him. and Lucifer was somehow involved. He could feel it in his gut, but there was no way in hell he was going to risk his mate in a showdown with Lucifer. He’d find a way to defeat him himself. He just had to keep Sam here. where he was safe.
Dean didn’t know when he drifted off to sleep, but when he opened his eyes, Sam was watching him. A smile curled Dean’s lips. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“So you’re back with us. What was all that?”
“I was so tired. I’ve never had a battle with another witch before. They fought so hard and so dirty… maybe it was a demon? Whoever they were, they almost had me, Dean.”
“Any chance this was Lucifer?”
“This was definitely a witch, and a strong one at that.”
Sam’s answer gave Dean pause, but didn’t exclude Lucifer from somehow being involved. He shook his head. “Well, I’m glad we won. listen, you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starved, and I found another whole tray of that lasagna you made. Or I could make you something lighter? Some more fluffy eggs and toast.”
Sam nodded, jerkily. “That sounds more my speed.”
“Want to come upstairs?”
“I'd love to, but I don’t think I can manage it.”
“That’s okay, we have the technology.” Dean grinned as he knelt up and grabbed Sam and his blankets and rose to standing.
“Dean!” Sam squeaked in embarrassment as Dean gently transferred him to the wheelchair.
“S’okay, this is how I got you here.” Dean grinned and pushed Sam’s chair out of the room. When they came to the elevator Sam was closest to the floor buttons, “If you could do the honors?”
Sam’s finger trembled as he reached out to hit the button. Dean kissed him on the top of the head. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”
He set Sam down on the sofa, but before Dean could stand, Sam smiled and pulled him down by the collar of his flannel and kissed him soundly.
“That was really sweet.”
“I know, I’m adorable.” Dean could feel his cheeks redden as he went to pop the lasagna in the oven and make Sam the promised scrambled eggs. Sam’s hand shook too much to eat on his own, so Dean fed him. When Sam had had enough, he waved a hand. Dean was pleased he’d managed to eat almost all three eggs.
“Good job, Sam. Feeling any better?”
“Yeah, some. But I don’t think I’ll be hitting the trail any time soon.”
The oven binged.
“Oh, that’s me.” Dean went to get his supper. He set the whole tray on the coffee table. He looked up at Sam who had an exhausted, but amused look on his face. “I know, I’m being a pig, but honest to God, I can’t get full, Sam.” Dean piled his plate with lasagna and sat back.
“It’s the bond. I know you’re still siphoning energy my way and I thank you for it, but you can stop. I am getting better. Just slower than I ever anticipated. I’m worried what will happen in Lawrence while I’m laid up.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that, too. What if I went into town on my own and did some scouting?”
“It’s Too dangerous. If there’s a witch that strong in Lawrence, everyone is in danger. You need to wait for me.”
“Right now we’re working blind. And I’ve thought about this. I’m shielded up the wazoo now. I’m healthier than I’ve been in years, and I know the layout of the town. I even scouted some of those warehouses when I came to check you out.”
Sam was shaking his head, but Dean grabbed his hands and stared into his eyes. “No, listen, I can sneak into town, and in wolfen form I don’t have to be close to hear what they’re saying. Their witch might be hurt, too. Right now we’re in the perfect position to take them by surprise.”
“I don’t know Dean. Can’t we give it a few days? I’ll be better by then.”
“We can. We just can’t be sure if something is happening to the townspeople. Every second counts.”
“Damn.” Sam looked stricken. Dean knew Sam was imagining the worst.
“I hate it when you’re right. But you have to promise me, the least sign of trouble and you get your ass back here.” Sam waved his hands in defeat, obviously exhausted by the whole discussion, and sagged on the sofa.
Dean took him back to bed and tucked him in. “Want a couple of aspirin, just to stay ahead of the headache?” Sam nodded gratefully, swallowing down the tablets with no question.
Sam reached for Dean’s hand, letting their fingers entwine. “Join me?”
Dean kissed Sam’s hand and slipped in behind him on the bed. He waited until his mate’s breathing had relaxed and Sam was good and warm before he slipped out of bed and returned to the top floor to clean up.
Too wound up to sleep himself, he put together what he needed for tomorrow’s trip to town. To get an early start, he even left Cas with enough feed to last a week. Still not weary, he ended up watching “Die Hard.” He thought Bruce Willis could teach the world a thing or two.
Yippee ki yay motherfuckers, he thought as he tucked himself in beside his mate.
The next morning Dean slipped out of the bed and looked down at his still sleeping mate. The small dose of sleeping tablets he’d given Sam last night would ensure he got a good long sleep with less time to worry about him while he was gone.
He wrote Sam a short note and gave his mate a farewell kiss. “Back soon, love. Sweet dreams.”
Dean packed his clothing and boots away and attached them to his harness. Then took the elevator down to the lobby and stripped and shrugged the harness on. “Sam, you’re missing a perfectly good ten yard streak here.” Dean laughed before closing the Bunker door behind him and shifting. [I’ll be back in no time.]
He turned his attention toward Lawrence, and with pure wolfen strength powered through the high snow drifts and set off.
¤ ¤ ¤
Dean arrived on the edge of town late that night. It was close to the first quarter moon so there was still a lot of ambient light, not ideal for stealthy travel. As Dean moved deeper into town, the first thing he noticed was the quiet. Lawrence was never rowdy, but at even nine o’clock at night you could hear people talking or music playing and see the odd lamp lit. Instead, there was nothing. No sound, no light, no movement at all.
On the bright side, he didn’t smell any pack, or not yet. Normally if a wolfen was within range, he’d smell him, but tonight, nothing. All he could smell was ashes and residue from the fire.
He’d tried to talk with Sam through the link late in the afternoon. His mate should have waked up by then, but their link must only stretch so far because he couldn’t hear him. He was on his own.
He travelled paralle to the main street, peeking in through back windows or listening at walls. He couldn’t hear any movement or chatter. When he got to Roxy’s he’d hoped this pattern would change, but it was deadly quiet as well. The door on the barn next door was open, and all the horses were gone.
Whatever had happened, it wasn’t good.
He decided to take a chance and actually go into Roxy’s. He shifted, changed into his clothing, and carefully crept in through the kitchen. The stove was cold, and it didn’t smell like anything had been cooked in there for a couple of days. Peeking through the door to the bar, he couldn’t hear or smell anyone. The place was deserted.
Where did all the people go?
Dean stripped and repacked and shifted back to his wolf form. He didn’t think he’d get any different results going door to door. The next logical place to look was the warehouse district to check out the fire. Maybe it had released toxic chemicals that drove everyone out of town. He slipped through the shadows, heading toward the pre-Fall industrial area of town. He missed talking things over with Sam, but the weirdness of the whole thing only confirmed his gut instinct to keep his mate safe at the Bunker.
The reek from the fire guided him. It had been an old machine parts warehouse, and when the plastic and rubber gaskets on the parts caught fire, they’d released all manner of chemicals. Dean padded along the side of the building and looked for anything unusual. Thanks to his wolfen eyesight, he could see nearly as well at night in this form as he could in the day. There was no one inside the nearly collapsed building.
Dean paused to regroup. He thought maybe checking out the other warehouses in the area might be a good idea. Maybe people took shelter there? But after scouting the area, he found nothing and no one. Even at the best of times in Lawrence some drunk would be camped out in a room in one of the warehouses. Tonight? Silence.
The only other group shelter he could think of was the high school. He’d only walked by it, but remembered it having a huge gymnasium, and he’d heard the locals talk about having pickup games there. He knew he was grasping at straws, but without Sam here to do a locating spell or something, he was at a loss.
Still keeping to the back roads and shadows he carefully made his way to the high school, backtracking sometimes to make sure he wasn’t being followed. It began to snow, not a wraith storm, just regular fat flakes falling. At first, they melted almost immediately when they hit his fur, but as the storm picked up, he sprouted a fluffy white layer. Fresh powder was good, though. It would bury his tracks if anyone did pick up his trail. The soft crunch of the snow as he padded along seemed overloud in the silence. He sniffed around the path leading to the front entrance of the school and picked up the scent of several humans.
He moved around to the back of the school on the athletic side, and was able to find an unlocked door near the gym. He picked up more fresh scents of several humans as well as the distinctive stink of a few demons as he entered. He debated leaving right away, but he still didn’t know anything. Until he got at least a few answers, he decided to press on.
He didn’t know the layout of the high school, but he knew from outside that there was a second level. Maybe he could find his way to a gym balcony, if it had one. He debated briefly shifting to human, but his wolfen was actually quieter, and he would have the bulk and teeth and claws to defend himself if he came up against something unfriendly.
Taking the stairs, he could pick up the faint scent of humans who had been there recently, though he didn’t come across any. He moved silently through the second floor, keeping an eye out for an access door to the gym. One was actually already open, so he didn’t have to risk the creak of a door or kicking it in. Abundant caution had him crawl through the door on his belly. Looking down past four or five rows of seats he could see the balcony’s front railing was a low concrete wall, topped with a steel hand rail. He slipped down the stairs to the front row, keeping low so he wouldn’t be seen. The only light was the quarter moon filtering through the high windows of the gym.
He crouched there for some time. Still no sound, though he could smell the presence of many humans. Taking a deep breath, Dean peeked over the railing to check out the gym floor and recoiled in surprise, flattening himself against the concrete wall and squeezing his eyes tightly shut. It was a trap, it had always been a trap. Standing in a circle on the gym floor were all one hundred-odd residents of Lawrence, all staring up at the balcony, at him in the darkness, with black eyes. And in the center of the ring sat Lucifer.
On instinct Dean bolted for the balcony doors, but three huge, black-clad demons crowded through them, blocking his way. He could make the jump easily to the floor, but then the Exit doors opened and a whole legion of demons flowed inside. He didn’t understand. There were hundreds here, but he couldn’t scent any of them - not even the three demons in front of him.
Lucifer slow clapped, his voice booming prenaturally through the gym. “And he returns to me as predicted.”
Dean didn’t waste any time answering. He turned and threw himself at the trio guarding the balcony doors. He hadn’t forgotten how strong demons were, but he wasn’t going to just give up. He caught one of them by the neck, killing it instantly. The demon smoked out while the other two tried to pile on him. They were big and heavy, but with a few swipes of his claws, Dean was able to roll and dislodge them. He vaulted through the balcony doors and charged down the hall, claws skittering on the tile. He knew the stairwells were useless, probably packed with demons too, so when he barreled round a corner and saw a row of windows facing outside, he didn’t even hesitate. He jumped.
He expected to fall two stories, but instead only dropped one onto the flat roof of a projection off the main building. A hail of broken glass landed with him; his fur protecting him from the worst of it. He continued to move. He saw a good spot near the front entrance and jumped down, landing on the top of a derelict car and leaping to the ground.
He needed to make it through the parking lot to the trees. There was no saving these people. Not by him anyway. He was leaping over an abandoned vehicle when he saw them…. A wolfen pack charging out of the wood line, twenty of them. As big or bigger than Dean. All of them with black or dark brown coats and glowing gold eyes. All carrying no scent whatsoever on the breeze and all heading directly toward him.
Dean skidded to a stop and looked around. Maybe he could go back through town. He turned to run, but the townsfolk from Lawrence had filed out of the gym, now forming a line across the parking lot, cutting off his escape. He knew he could take them out, but he’d be killing innocent hosts. He decided to try barreling through them, no claws or teeth. He had just made it through the three deep line, when suddenly Roxy, or the body who used to be Roxy, was standing in front of him.
“Give it up, Winchester, we have you surrounded.”
Lucifer’s voice from her lips sent shivers up his spine.
Dean veered to the side, but on the icy ground ended up taking Roxy out like a bowling pin. She went flying, and he smashed into an abandoned car. By the time he regained his footing, ten pair of gold eyes were staring at him. He tried to push through them, biting and clawing, but their sheer numbers kept him pinned down.
As the wolfen circled him, black-clad demons closed in, two with gold lassos. Giddily, Dean wondered if Wonder Woman knew the demons were co-opting her schtick. One lasso caught his front leg, the another around his back paw. He growled, biting at the metal rope to try and pull it free of the demon’s grasp. While he was distracted, a third, normal rope caught round his neck and then they were pulling him in three different directions, hauling him to the snowy ground.
Even with the ropes, it took almost twenty of them to take his legs out from under him. Dean took some bitter satisfaction in that. Once he was down, they just stood there. Dean wondered what they were waiting for as he twisted and fought against the ropes, but then he felt it. The lassos didn’t glow or burn, but he could feel himself going numb. Slowly but steadily they were sapping his strength. Every minute they had him bound he was getting weaker and weaker.
He lay there in horror as he felt himself begin to turn. No matter what he did, how hard he concentrated, he couldn’t stop his wolfen from shifting. In shocked horror he found himself suddenly very human and very naked on the icy pavement of the school parking lot. He screamed in rage and tried to lash out, but their hold was too strong. Then the demons moved in, leaving the regular rope around his neck and binding his hands behind his back with one of he gold ones. One rifled through his knapsack and pulled out pants and boots.
A demon grabbed him by the hair and stared at him with a cruel smile. “You can either cooperate and put these on, or we put them on for you.” Dean knew exactly which way the demon would prefer. He grunted in assent, hoping to find an opening, but they took no chances; they kept the lassos on his ankles, and fed the rope through his pants before he pulled them on. Once he had his boots on, they used the second gold one to hobble him.
They hauled him to his feet and dragged him back into the gym. He could walk, but with the ropes sucking energy from him like a vampire and the lassos binding his feet, it was more of a weary prison shuffle. One of the demons grabbed his knapsack and brought it with them.
Inside, Lucifer sat waiting.
“Oh, Dean. You do like to make things hard on yourself, don’t you?” Lucifer waved his captors over. “Bring him here. I want to get this over quickly.”
The demons held Dean’s bound arms and forced him to his knees in front of the Morningstar.
“I hear you won’t feel a thing.” Lucifer’s quiet voice seemed to fill the gym. He reached out, placed his hand on the middle of Dean’s chest, and closed his eyes.
Dean struggled, tried to jackknife out of the demons’ grip, but their hands on his arms were like steel. He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see the smug satisfaction in Lucifer’s eyes.
He waited. And waited.
Nothing happened.
“What’s going on here? Why aren’t you me?” Lucifer shoved his hand onto Dean’s chest again and closed his eyes in concentration.
Dean still felt nothing.
Lucifer grabbed Dean by the chin. “What did you do? How are you keeping me out?”
Dean shook his head.
“Meg, get over here!” Lucifer snarled. His eyes glowed amber.
Dean’s eyes widened at the insanity of the situation. All this time, running from Lucifer, and here, he couldn’t even take him.
He began to laugh and once he started, he couldn’t stop. Lucifer turned on him, smashing him in the face with a closed fist. Dean was crushed to the floor by the force of the punch, and still through bloodied teeth, he kept laughing.
Lucifer snarled at the closest demon.
“Gag that bitch.”
The demons rushed to shove a piece of cloth in his mouth, but Dean’s shoulders still heaved as the laughing jag ran its course.
He was still lying on the gym floor when a slim, good-looking young woman walked confidently out of the crowd of demons.
“So this is the human we were trying to lure out, my Lord?”
“Yes, the same. But why am I being kept out of my vessel?”
She looked down at Dean with a cool, calculating look. “I don’t know, my Lord. He should be like any other human.”
“I know that, but he’s not. Could this have something to do with that witch that interfered with our fire? And gave you that lovely burn?”
Meg sniffed and turned, and Dean could see that one side of her face was blackened by fire. His Sam did that!
“Curious. It should have worked like usual. I will have to study him further.”
“Well do so, get it done,” Lucifer spat out petulantly.
“Back at my lab, sire. I have no tools or books here. It was supposed to be the simple capture of a wolfen.”
“Everywhere I go, incompetence.” Lucifer rose out of his chair and circled Dean. He ran his hands over the tattoo on his back. “Looks like you got a recharge. Tingles. Is this what is keeping me out? Because we can have that skin flayed off. I can always heal that later.”
“That is certainly an option, sire, but I would like to look into it.”
“Maybe the witch that put out the fire is helping him. He must be good, he beat you.” Lucifer eyed Meg with disdain.
“I was taken by surprise,.” Meg replied sulkily.
“Excuses, excuses. I want solutions, and I want my new meatsuit, or there will be repercussions.”
“Yes, sire. I’ll examine him in detail as soon as we’re back.”
Lucifer pointed at a demon hovering nearby, “You, cage this creature up and bring him back home with us. And see he doesn’t escape, or you’ll be thinking about hell from a very different perspective.” Lucifer stalked out of the gym.
“Someone bring my car!”
A black Lincoln pulled up outside the gym doors in seconds. and Lucifer paused as he got in. “We’ll see you later, Meg. And Meg, don’t disappoint me.”
“Yes, sire.”
Another demon stepped out of the group, “Sire, what should we do with the townspeople?”
Lucifer looked around, a sly, calculating look on his face. “Let them go. If Winchester attempts to escape, we can always come back here and butcher all of them.”
Dean shivered as the Morningstar’s car disappeared down the road. He had no idea how he was still alive and still himself. He thought maybe Sam and his new tattoos had something to do with this. His mind boggled, Lucifer had access to all these working cars? With these he could take Dean almost anywhere, far beyond Sam’s reach. He should have waited for Sam.
He squashed that thought quickly. He’d done what he'd done to keep Sam safe. There were no takebacks. If he became Lucifer’s meatsuit, then the farther away from Sam he was, the better. He hoped Sam never even found out what the Morningstar looked like.
Meg threw herself in Lucifer’s chair and tapped her dagger-like fingernails on the arm rest as she stared at Dean critically. “Just how are you keeping him out, wolfen?”
Dean shrugged from his place on the floor.
Meg wagged her hand, and two demons pulled him to his knees. “Remove his gag.”
“Answer me.”
“And I would tell you, why?” Dean smirked.
Meg sighed dramatically and with no warning the demon standing beside his two handlers punched him in the gut. Dean crumpled to the floor again in pain. Not only were the lassos draining his power, they were making him weaker, more susceptible to being hurt. He swallowed hard.
“Not the answer I’m looking for.”
Dean stared at her saying nothing, simply spat a bloody gob at her feet.
“Good boy,” Meg sneered. “We’ll have you trained up in no time.”
His wranglers hauled him back up on his knees, and Dean knelt there in silence. He was wondering where they might take him. Lucifer had caught him and his father near an abandoned detention center. He’d never taken them anywhere other than there. Could he have another base?
He was shivering by the time several demons returned with a steel cage on a dolly. Now that the adrenaline rush was wearing off, he could feel himself getting colder by the second. He was sure it didn’t help that the lassos were still siphoning his energy.
“Put him in,” The demon who punched him said to his two wranglers. He was shoved bodily into the ice cold metal enclosure. Then they rolled the contraption outside, muscled it into the back of a cube van, and covered it with a tarp.
“Hey, hey, I’m going to freeze to death in here!” Dean shouted, hurling himself at the side of the enclosure to get their attention before they closed the van’s back doors.
Meg approached the vehicle and nodded to a demon. “Get him some blankets and water and something to eat. I don’t want him dying on me before I can examine him. Tell the driver to check on him regularly. I am holding him personally responsible.”
“That’s the spirit!” Dean snarked.
A demon returned with an armful of blankets and quilts and other supplies. They unlocked the cage door long enough to throw the things in at him. He gathered everything up as they slammed the van door closed. He carefully arranged the blankets around him and under him on the solid metal floor and curled up. He was too tired to eat, but he lined up his rations so he would know what he had in the dark interior. With the lassos wrapped around his skin, all he wanted was to sleep. Who knew when he’d next get a chance? The movement of the van lulled him to sleep. He dreamed of Sam. And, strangely, of ravens watching over him.
¤ ¤ ¤
^^ Comments always appreciated | Master Post | Chapter 6 | Chapter 8