Chapter three
Chapter Three
Moments later Bobby limped into the room, bracing himself along the wall as he came. Despair began to creep into his senses as he glanced around the smoldering remains of the cabin. There was no sign of Sam, Ruby, or the demon Lilith. Tears threatened to form as he made his way painfully towards the young hunter kneeling on the floor.
Dean barely heard him come. Free at last, he knelt inside the circle. Ruby's knife lay useless on the wooden planks beside him. His head was buried in his hands and great, wracking sobs shook his entire frame. In between cries, Bobby could hear him whisper brokenly, “I'm sorry....” over and over, repetitive motions beginning to take hold as the cries escalated.
“Dean?” Bobby knelt by the young man, heart clenching in sorrow, nerves taut with worry. “Dean, what happened?”
Slowly Dean raised his head to meet his friend's gaze. The tortured, frantic look his eyes said it all.
I failed.
~*~
The girl's hands were slowly going limp at her sides, her vision mostly black with a few bright white spots, and the terror had finally begun to recede as she let out her last breath. Her muddled mind wanted only for the pain to stop, not caring that her death was the only escape from the man that had been brutalizing her for the last several hours.
Finally releasing his hold on the dead girl's throat, the man sat up, wiping one hand over his eyes to clear the sweat streaming from his limp, tangled brown hair. He was powerfully muscled, and as he climbed to his feet he thought with relish of how easily he had overpowered the pretty young thing that lay on his living room floor. Yeah, it had been an entertaining afternoon. Sleepy thoughts threatened to cloud his mind as he reached for his bottle of beer, turning his back on his latest victim's body.
She had been a good find, perfectly fitting his M.O. of athletic dark-haired twenty-somethings. She had even put up a fight for the first few rounds, but eventually he won out; he always did. He was already bored with her when he saw the light go out in her eyes. Now he just wanted to rest.
Which was probably why he didn't see the demon smoke, why he didn't hear the slight gasp of breath; why he didn't see the dead girl's body rise up from the ground.
The last thing he ever heard was a cool, calm voice in his ear, whispering as the small hands reached up and snapped his neck with surprising power. “You really shouldn't have done that.”
Satisfied, Ruby walked away from the man's corpse. “Sorry you didn't make it, sweetheart,” she whispered to the girl's reflection in the living room mirror. “I put the bastard down for you.” Ruby winced at the appearance of the ravaged body. At least the paleness of death was fading, color coming back into the girl's skin as blood and oxygen flowed smoothly once more through her veins.
Giving a cursory glance around the room, she found the girls jeans and T-shirt, still crumpled carelessly against the wall where the man had thrown them. Scooping them up, Ruby headed for the shower. She hated to take the time, but she had a long way to travel and walking through town bruised, bloodied and naked just wasn't really an option. She cursed under her breath as the hot water contacted the cuts all across her new body.
I don't have time for this. She thought. Hastily she scrubbed her wounds, blinking against the pain. She wasn't sure how long she had been gone, or where exactly she was, but there was only one thought on her mind.
Sam. I have to get back to Sam.
~*~
Bobby was driving the Impala along the winding country road like a man fleeing his worst nightmare. Pausing occasionally to shift his eyes towards the broken young man in the passenger's seat, he supposed that in a way, he was. How could I have been so stupid? What the hell was I thinking, taking the boys in there? There would be all the time in the world for regret, but for now, he needed to concentrate on keeping himself and Dean alive. They wouldn't be able to help Sam if they got themselves killed. Lilith, of course, it had to be her. Who else would it be? He tried to ignore the terror creeping up his spine.
Lilith was the Night Witch, the plague-bringer and destroyer of children, the pale maiden who seduced men to their deaths, the fall of Adam, the Dark Wind and a succubus. And she had Dean's brother. Dean had barely spoken since Bobby dragged him out of the falling cabin and into the waiting car, but what he had managed to piece together had not been good. Now Dean thrashed in his restless sleep, his mind carrying on the fight that his body was too weak to continue. “Sam .. no,” he moaned. “No, this isn't you, please ...” Bobby's heart began to crack as he listened to the tortured boy's cries. He knew that Dean needed rest, but he couldn't bear to listen anymore.
“Dean.” He reached out a hand to the struggling man's shoulder, trying to wake him as gently as possible. “Dean, wake up, son.” Dean gave a violent start as he snapped awake. He looked like he didn't know where he was. For a moment, a flicker of hope flashed behind his eyes, but reality quickly sank in and it was replaced by despair.
"Bobby," Dean choked on the name. His hands were shaking, and he flicked his gaze rapidly from his friend to the road and back. "Bobby, what happened in there?" Fragments of words spun through Dean's mind like a whirlwind. This, like everything else, was all about Sam. "How did I miss it?" He whispered. And you were kind enough to bring him right to our door. His eyes widened as he realized his monumental mistake. There is no good and evil, Dean. He looked down at his hands, realized that they were coated in Sam's dry blood."God, I'm ... Bobby ..." There was no need for the warning, the color in his face was warning enough. Bobby had already brought the Impala to a screeching halt on the side of the road.
The door swung open and Dean was out, dropping to his knees and retching hard as the acid in his stomach made a break for the pavement. Even after he was done, he still couldn't catch his breath. Dimly he became aware that Bobby was kneeling beside him, lifting him by the shoulders and guiding him back to the car. "I'm sorry son, but we've gotta keep movin," he said. Bobby handed Dean a flask from his jacket pocket. "Here, it's just holy water, but you need to drink somethin." Dean's hands shook uncontrollably as he took the flask.
Within seconds they were back on the road. Dean took a sip of the water. It cooled his parched throat, easing the pain from all the smoke he had breathed. He fought down his panic with sheer willpower. Think, Dean, come on. A plan. They needed a plan. "Where we headed?" His throat hurt, and his whole body ached from the struggle with Lilith. He was so tired, but his brain was going a hundred miles a second. There would be no rest, not until he found Sam.
"Back to my place." Bobby replied. At Dean's incredulous look, he added, "At least we know it's secure. We can try to figure out what happened ..." God, was his voice actually breaking? Come on, Singer, pull yourself together. Those boys need you. "to Sam." He finished quietly.
Dean sat up a little straighter in his seat. Bobby could almost feel it the second Dean's panic and fear turned to rage. "What happened? What happened to ... a friggin' demon turned him, that's what happened!" He began to breathe rapidly, and he clutched the Impala's dashboard like he was holding on for dear life. "I ... I thought," he gasped out, and Bobby looked to check him, he sounded like he was in that much pain. "I thought it was over, you know?" The anger was spent and Dean turned tear-filled eyes towards his friend, pleading. "I thought he was safe."
Bobby didn't really trust himself to say the right thing; Dean was just too fragile. Instead he just nodded, listening. Let him work it out, he thought. He's smart. He can do this. Dean continued, his voice growing stronger as he focused his thoughts, searching for the answer the same way he pursued everything; with a fierce determination.
"I thought ..." This, like everything else, was all about Sam. "I thought when yellow-eyes died, the plans he had died with him," he whispered, realization dawning. "We were so caught up in the deal, in staying alive, God, how could I ignore it like that? How could I let my guard down like that!" Dean was dangerously close to yelling again, and this time, Bobby cut him off.
"Dean. Listen. No one knew, alright? We can't spend time blamin’ ourselves, you hear me?" He looked straight at Dean to emphasize his point. "Nobody's gonna help Sam now but us. Now, I'm gonna find out what the hell happened in there, and I'm going after him. Are you gonna be able to hold it together or not?"
He hated to be so harsh, but he knew Dean, better than almost anyone. The only way to get the kid to focus all that volatile energy - and to keep him from doing something stupid - was to imply that Sam's safety depended on Dean being calm and focused. Dean's eyes glittered with hurt and indignation, but the spark, the feral intelligence, was back.
Dean didn't respond, he just took another sip of water and leaned his head against the window. The water seemed to soothe him, and as the miles ticked by, his spent body dragged his tortured mind to sleep.
~*~
By the time they reached the salvage yard, Dean had been awake for a few minutes and gotten his head together enough to realize that they were both hurt, exhausted, and needed desperately to tend to their basic human needs. After the events at the Gate a year before, Bobby, Sam and Dean had secured the perimeter of the house by lining the entire yard with an iron fence. When the gate was latched, it was solid. They were safe, at least for the time being.
Still, Dean skipped the offered sandwich and bottle of water. He took a quick shower and settled in with whisky instead, tearing through Bobby's library right away. Dean had missed the initial research phase of the planning because ... well, because I was dead, dammit. He needed to fill in the blanks. "Tell me what you found out about Lilith."
Bobby sighed, leaned back in the easy chair and tried to take a bite of his sandwich with the hand that wasn't holding the ice pack to his aching skull. "Well, for starters, she shows up in lore from several cultures. But the common thread is, she's usually described as a temptress of some kind. She seduces men and makes them sire her children."
Dean choked on his whisky. "What?"
"Some cultures think of her like a succubus. She makes women infertile, kills their children, and then has her own with the men to replace them. She's old magic, Dean. Real old."
~*~
And they traveled, and it seemed like he had traveled this way before, this floating, shimmering sensation, flashes of one plane to the next until finally they came to rest near a field, and Sam didn't know where they were. He only knew that she was leading him, and that he trusted her implicitly, and that she had fought for him, fought for his return, and would never do him harm.
Leading him into the forest, she knelt before him, bowing her head in reverence. He tilted his head in confusion. It all seemed so familiar, and yet... he didn't know what to do. Sensing his hesitation, she craned her graceful neck to look up, up into his eyes. Her voice was rich and warm as she whispered, "Join with me."
~*~
"But she's a demon, right?" Dean asked weakly. Mental images that he really didn't want were running through his mind. He reached out to the coffee table in front of him, touching Ruby's knife again, just making sure it was still there. As long as she was a demon, he could kill her.
"Yeah she's a demon, one of the first." Bobby replied.
"What?" God, I sound like a broken record.
"There are references, pretty vague ones, to her in the Dead Sea Scrolls, the Zohar, and a bunch of others. If you take 'em as a whole, basically, Lilith seduced Adam, got herself kicked out of the garden, and to get back at the world she started spawning demonic children with Cain. They call her the plague, come to destroy the world."
Dean shook his head. "Bobby, that doesn't make any sense. If she was just after guys, why would she need Sam so bad? I mean, there's a bigger thing here, something we're missing, there has to be." He tried to keep his thoughts clear, but shehasSamshehasSam just kept repeating itself, over and over. "I mean," he stopped for another swallow of the whisky, "his eyes were white, like hers. And he had ... powers, Bobby. Demon powers."
Bobby frowned. "But he wasn't possessed?" Dean shook his head. "Dean, are you sure?" Bobby knew that Sam should have been protected against possession, but with an evil this ancient ... he just couldn't be sure.
"Yes, I'm sure! It was Sam, only ... he was just ... different." Dean's hand trembled and he threw back another shot of whisky. "He said that there wasn't good and evil, and that he couldn't let me hurt her, and ..." Dean's stomach lurched painfully, "and he called her his family." He finished, spitting out the words like they were the reason he felt so sick.
"He said the war was about making things right." Dean turned pleading eyes towards the older hunter. The broken whisper was back, his voice barely loud enough for Bobby to hear. "What the hell does that mean?"
~*~
From the edges of the field came demons, cloaked and hooded. Demons like the ones he had seen in his vision; demons who had once served Samael and called him their king. Still kneeling at his feet, Lilith took both of his hands in her own. For a fleeting moment, Sam felt like he shouldn't be there, but when he looked into her wide, white eyes, he couldn't remember why.
The cloaked figures encircled them, forming a loose ring of dark shapes among the trees. Lilith spoke again, and he heard her voice in his mind, in his very soul. "Samael. Join with me."
~*~
Bobby leaned forward, his mouth twisting into a frown. "He called her family?"
"Yes! Family, ok?" Dean said, his voice thick with tension and betrayal. "What did she do, put some sort of spell on him?" Bobby threw the ice pack onto the floor and stood up, startling Dean. He marched straight to the bookshelf. Pulling rows of books away and discarding them carelessly on the floor, he reached back to the second row and pulled out an old, faded book. "What?" Dean asked. When he received no immediate response from the now very occupied elder hunter, he raised his voice and asked again, "Bobby! What?"
"Dean..." Bobby's voice sounded like shattered glass. Dean froze, held his breath. He tried to ready himself for the worst possible news. Bobby's hands actually shook as he read the inscription in the book. He read it twice, three times. They still didn't have any solid proof, but the elder hunter knew. "Son, I ..." He saw the fear in Dean's eyes. How do I say this? John, did you know this?
"Um, Dean, just listen to me now, just hear me out." Dean nodded curtly, signaling Bobby to go on, but Bobby saw the color drain out of his face and the way the rise and fall of his chest was suddenly very shallow. "Some sources, like the Kabbalah," he waved the book in his hands, "make references to Lilith. They say that after she left the garden, she became the devil's bride." He paused, waiting to see a reaction.
"What devil? Another demon?" Dean asked.
Ok, not the reaction I was hoping for. "The devil, Dean. The original. Lilith was married to Samael." Bobby wasn't sure how much more to say. He didn't know how much more pale Dean could get. Gritting his teeth, he plowed on. Dean deserved the truth.
"Samael and Lilith were breeding demonic children, let’s-end-the-world types. God killed Samael and banished Lilith to keep it from happening. Dean," he whispered, "You said yourself, some demons reckon he's coming back someday." he said, his voice almost pleading now, "What if Gordon was right?" The wells of tears springing up in his eyes finally slipped free. He hated to say it, hated to even think it, but ... "What if Sam really is the Antichrist?"
Dean gaped. How the hell are you supposed to get ready for news like that.
~*~
One demon stepped forward, bowing low. Lilith regarded the newcomer openly. "Rise, Priestess. Join us." The demon stepped forward, pulling back her hood. Sam's newfound senses ran over her, touching the edges of her powers, tasting her essence. He knew her.
"Meg," he growled. Lilith's small hands tightened quickly around his wrists, stilling him. Meg would not meet his gaze, instead she pulled from her robe a small knife. Sam flexed against Lilith's hold, but her gaze held him, her steady voice calming him.
"Don't be afraid," she murmured. "With the return of your power will come your memories. Everything will be clear to you in time." He latched onto her voice, the radiant calm that she exuded. He still had questions for her, pieces of the puzzle that he didn't yet understand. But he trusted her. "She means you no harm, she has come to wed us. Like her father did before her."
Sam blinked. Azazel. Azazel had been in his vision. Azazel had helped to bring him back to life. He shut his eyes tightly, concentrating. No, Dean had brought him back to life. Hadn’t he?
Assuming Sam's acceptance, Lilith extended her pale arm towards Meg, still holding Sam's wrist in her hand. Meg began to chant, an ancient language of demons, and the words made Sam's skin burn with power. The blade cut down into Lilith's wrist, then Sam's. He gasped as he felt the sting of the blade, the warm rush of blood, felt the power exit his body. Holding them gently together, Meg caught the dripping flow of their intermingled blood in a shining goblet.
She offered the goblet to Lilith as Lilith rose from her knees. Lilith accepted the goblet. Locking eyes with Sam, she drank, and the bright red stained her full lips, her white eyes glittered in the moonlight. She held the goblet out to him with both hands, her eyes never leaving his. He took it, felt the weight in his grip. This was everything he had ever dreamed of, his reunion with his bride, and yet ... he didn’t, wait, what was …
No. His own voice whispered to him, speaking of potential, of unstoppable power. This is who I was born to be. He drank deeply from the cup, cementing the union. Lilith smiled a lithe, dangerous smile. Sam could feel her power running through his veins, linking him as close to her as though the power was his own. Hungrily he reached for her, and when their lips met the circle of demons watching cheered with delight. After a long moment, he broke away, regarding the servants of his inner circle.
"Leave us," he said. They had a lot of catching up to do.
~*~
Dean was pacing frantically now. "I mean, it all makes sense. Mind control, telekinesis, killing with a touch? Super strength? Those are all demon powers, Bobby! What if it wasn't about finding a leader for the army that came out of the Gate? What if it was about finding the one person who could handle the power - his power?"
Bobby didn't know what to say. He just watched Dean pace back and forth, and wondered if this was what losing your mind felt like. His numb mind focused sharply when Dean abruptly stopped pacing. "What if ..." Dean's green eyes were wide in disbelief and fear. "What if the whole point of opening the Gate was to let her out?" He sank into the easy chair, trembling. "They all died, every single one of them, they all burned out." He whispered. "Sam was the only one strong enough. And now they'll raise an army." Dean's eyes shone with unshed tears. "God," he rasped, "it's the end of the world." Bobby just turned toward the kitchen, shaking his head in dismay.
"I'm gettin' another bottle of whisky."
~*~
It should have been strange, Sam thought. Strange to hold this creature in his arms again. Strange to him that he had spent the last 25 years not knowing who he was. But none of it was strange; it all made perfect sense. He watched silently as she slept, her alabaster skin glowing in the pale moonlight, her dark hair forming gentle tendrils that clung to him, silently holding him in their soft embrace. Lilith. Their forbidden love had split the Heavens in two.
She stirred, waking, and he kissed her softly. It was becoming difficult to remember where he had been. His human life seemed like a dream. He remembered fire, and death. Lilith's opal eyes regarded him openly. This love would never be lost in flame. This love, this perfect creature, was born of flame. Sam smiled. He would never fear fire again.
Chapter four