Chapter eleven
Chapter Eleven
Dean’s mind was fuzzy like it was wrapped in cotton balls, and his arms were completely asleep above his head. The tips of his boots barely touched the concrete floor of the cell, and it was getting hard just to breathe. The sway of his body as it hung was dizzying, and the manacles holding his wrists to the chain on the wall were tight enough to bruise.
It may have been just hours, or it may have been days, he had no way to tell in the inky dark. At least he was in solitary - no bars. He didn’t want to have to see the brutish face of the demon guarding his cell anymore. They’d gotten plenty acquainted during the scuffle.
Dimly his ears picked up another voice speaking softly to the guard. It sounded female. He wryly wondered if Meg was here to torture him some more - after all, they had already played with whips and chains, now all that was missing was the hot wax and whipped cream …
The female demon stepped into his cell swiftly and closed the door behind her, setting down what looked like a food tray in the corner. Shadows covered her face in the dim light, but Dean felt his knees go weak with relief at the familiar, annoyed tone of her voice.
“Hey dumbass. You ready to fly this chicken coop?”
“Ruby, I don’t care how disgusting you look, you come over here and I’m gonna kiss the crap outta you.” He exclaimed.
“Oooh, promise?”He heard her soft snort of laughter and grinned at the dripping sarcasm in her words.
He struggled to hold his weight as Ruby began fiddling with the heavy padlocks holding the chain off the floor.
“We gotta get you out of here, now.” Ruby whispered. “What happened? I thought you’d be safe.”She grunted in frustration as the chain refused to budge.
“It’s Sam. He’s … changed. I can’t get through to him anymore. And the bitch, she’s -“ Dean gagged. He couldn’t help it. It was so, so wrong. So wrong to picture a child with Sammy’s smile and feel proud, even though it was going to be a monster.
“Dean, what?”Ruby paused to pin him with her stare.
“She - she’s pregnant.” Even in the shadows Dean could see Ruby’s face lose the rest of its color.
“He’s turned,” she spoke quickly. “Samael’s power is imprinted with his essence. The more Sam uses it, the less human he becomes. If you can’t get through to him then it means Samael is back. For good this time.” She cursed, reaching into her pocket for a different lock pick as her words sank slowly into Dean’s numb mind.
“Hurry!” he hissed.
“Shutup, you think it was easy getting in here?” The chains came free with a clank and Dean fell hard as his legs gave out from lack of use. Unable to fully stand right away, he hauled himself up into a crouch and rubbed his sore wrists carefully. He stifled a groan at the fire burning all down his back. He was beyond stiff; he could feel every cut pulling against his skin.
Ruby’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothin’ we can’t handle.” He lied.
“Liar. Let me see.” She demanded, walking around to kneel at his shoulder. Resigning himself to a more subtle kind of torture, he winced and bit down hard on the inside of his cheek as he lifted what was left of his tattered t-shirt over his head and discarded it in a bloody heap on the floor.
She hissed. He felt the sting of even the lightest pressure as her fingers explored his skin, assessing the damage. “Damn. These need stitches.” She blew out a sigh, casting a wary glance towards the door. “No time now - we have to go.”
“Couldn’t agree more.” he answered. Adrenaline was starting to flow now that his blood was properly circulating again. He’d just have to count on it to see him through for a few more hours. “So what’s the plan?”
“We take ‘em both out.”Ruby said. Her tone left no room for argument.
“What? No.” he protested weakly. He couldn’t shake the image of Sam in his mind. The dark power, his unfeeling dismissal. Sam would never turn him over to be tortured or worse. Sam would never let that whore own him.
The thing he’d seen in their old house hadn’t been Sam. It hadn’t been Sam at all.
“Dean, Lawrence is burning. Everyone in this town is dead already. You want this to spread? There’s a Gate here, you know. Apocalypse zero, right here. I’m sorry, Dean - but there’s no way out of this one.” She held out a hand to him, prompting him to get up.
Dean eyed her carefully. All of the cards were falling into place. The Tower had foretold the opening of a Devil’s Gate. And she was right; Lilith had to go. And so did the chi … whatever it was she was carrying inside her. Demonic children, take-over-the-world types, reminded Bobby’s voice in his head. Dean’s skin crawled with revulsion at the thought.
Again he was surprised that the revulsion wasn’t directed towards the child, but towards the thought of killing it.
But there was also the Wheel, and it said they still had a chance. And Dean was the ace in the hole. If you can’t save him, Dean … you have to kill him.
Dean grabbed Ruby’s hand and levered himself up slowly.
“Yeah, ok. Let’s go.”
They didn’t have time to argue right now. But there was no way in hell that Dean was going to kill his brother.
Or any part of him.
~*~
As it turned out, the demon guarding his cell was just as weak as Dean had previously expected, and he leaned heavily against the door frame with a satisfied smile on his face while Ruby took her knife and slit its throat.
She relieved the dead man’s body of his jacket and helped Dean put it on, draping it carefully over the open wounds on his back. He grimaced and broke into a sweat, but somehow he stayed standing.
When they cleared the building, Dean felt his breath hitch.
Lawrence looked like a battleground.
A dim yellow haze of sulfur blanketed the city. There were no lights shining through windows, no sound of the happy chatter of people walking down the sidewalks. In the dark Dean could make out vague shapes of bodies littering the streets, and the pervading reek of death was everywhere. Even the quiet hulking masses of parked cars looked too still. Nerves stretching tight, Dean whispered, “Where is everybody?”
“Heading to the Gate.” She said. “Tonight’s the night, I guess. Good thing, too, or I’d have never made it in to get you.”
“I don’t have the sword.” Dean admitted. He waited for her to rip him a new one, but she just looked confused.
“Sword?”
Crap. “Uh - long story. It’s kind of … Michael’s.” He admitted, waiting for the game of twenty questions, but for once she seemed stunned into silence.
After staring at him for a long, uncomfortable moment, she responded with, “It should be wherever you left it. I don’t think any of Sam’s people would be able to touch it.”
“Huh.” Honestly, he hadn’t thought of that.
“Where’d you leave it?”
Dean winced. “Our old house. C’mon, let’s jack a car.”
“You go ahead. I’ll meet you.”
He pulled up short. “No. We stick together on this one.” For one, he didn’t trust her. And for two, he wasn’t sure if he could make it on his own. He grimaced. Number one wasn’t going very well in hand with number two.
But she shook her head. “Someone needs to stall them from opening the gate, and you’re only gonna slow me down. Just - get there as fast as you can, alright?”
He nodded stiffly, giving up the fight. He didn’t have the energy, anyway. Moving painfully slow, he headed for the nearest car.
~*~
“Oh, thank God,” Dean breathed, running his hand over the untouched metal of the Impala. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” A quick glance revealed no damage. “Be right back, baby.”
He took the stairs two at a time, wincing with every step. By the time he reached the second floor he was shaking weakly and his back was on fire. He stumbled into the closet and retrieved the sword from its hiding place, also reclaiming his cell phone from the floor where he had dropped it.
The instant his hand closed around the hilt, the bright golden glow surged through him and he felt strength returning to his torn body. “Awesome,” he whispered. “That’s what I’m talking about.” He flexed slowly, relishing the relief.
He’d have to be mindful of his injuries to avoid making them worse, but the majority of the pain had dulled, washed away in the steady thrum of the sword’s power.
He shucked the dead man’s bloody jacket and dug through Jenny’s dresser instead. In the back of the bottom drawer, he found a few old T-shirts that must have belonged to her husband. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. He suspected that the heat of the sword would keep him warm.
He pulled one on and headed back to the Impala. Sitting back down was bliss. He sank gratefully into the soft leather, put the key in the ignition, and brought the engine roaring to life.
The sky was cold and black, the scent of ashes and ruin thick in the chilled November air. Dean pushed the pedal through the floorboard and steered his ride to Stull.
~*~
Ruby crouched low atop the gentle sloping rise of ground around the edges of the cemetery. The Stull Gate was a thing of legend, and she’d never believed it, but then again, she’d never put much stock in Samael’s existence either, and now here she was, staring down at them both.
Demons weren’t supposed to get shivers down their spines or feel dread at anything other than the name of God, but the scene in front of her was proving that theory wrong as well.
Samael stood with his bride in the center of a multitude. Every human that had survived the hostile takeover of Lawrence was present, possessed by a legion of demons the likes of which she’d never seen. They were more than the bottom feeders that wreaked causal havoc around the country, getting their kicks from manipulation and mind games.
They were warriors.
She reached back to her waistband and pulled the Colt free. Dean would have killed her if he knew she’d found it. He said he was with her on this, but unreadable as he could be, she’d been there for the aftermath of his deal. She’d watched him struggle with Sam; she knew how responsible he felt for his brother. She knew he’d been lying to her.
But she knew Sam, too, knew he’d never let anyone hurt his brother.
And that’s how she knew he was lost.
She watched carefully as Samael began to speak. The warriors in one body sank to their knees, muscles taunt with anticipation. His voice projected deep into the night, and she heard it not only with her ears, but in her mind as well. His dark presence was a living, breathing thing.
Lilith stood beside him, the dark Queen of all Hell, and she looked proud and regal, holding the Book firmly in her hands. Ruby frowned. She didn’t see any evidence of a pregnancy, but she couldn’t think that Dean would lie about something like that. The demon that normally trailed Lilith - the Priestess - seemed to be absent. Ruby cast the observation aside. Tonight, no one stood with Samael. He was there to bring his legions to earth.
“You came to me leaderless.” he began. “You were hidden, hunted. Slaves to the wills of others, outnumbered and weak.”
The crowed nodded in affirmation, trembling at the deep bass waves power that washed over them. He was their Messiah, their chosen one. They would, and very well may, follow him to the depths of Hell if that was where he chose to go.
“It was written, and to him was given the key to the bottomless pit.” He smiled darkly, eyes canted low. “Well, tonight, I will show you that I am the key.”A low rumble began to spread through the crowd, murmurs of soldiers gearing up for war.
Ruby swallowed hard. She could see what Dean would refuse to accept; the creature in front of her was not Sam Winchester. He was an ancient, powerful warrior who had brought war against the forces of God Himself; and lost.
His rebirth had been planned since the moment Michael’s sword had first pierced his cold, dark heart. Sam Winchester had been chosen well. His abilities combined with the power of Samael would make him invincible.
Ruby had the certain feeling that this time he wasn’t going to lose.
“This night, I will free our brothers and sisters from the Pit, where they have suffered! And tomorrow, this world will know that the time of their kind is over.”
The crowd surged to their feet, and the guttural roars of the demons were deafening. They blocked her view from where she lay. She could feel Samael’s power begin to surge, reaching, spreading deep into the ground below.
She could see Dean now, not far behind her, peering over a gravestone at the scene below. His face was deathly pale, and his mouth a tight, thin line, but his eyes were steel and deadly determination. She couldn’t sense him where he lay, and she drew a deep breath to steady herself, taking some small comfort in the fact that, at least until he was ready to fight, he’d be safe.
It was now or never. She was a demon first, and a hunter second. She was still evil in form, and she would never be able to touch the sword; even if she wanted to. She couldn’t kill Samael.
But maybe she could give Sam Winchester a fighting chance. She’d just have to trust that Dean could finish what she’d started.
Ruby stood tall, took careful aim, and pulled the trigger.
~*~
Dean was crouched low several yards behind Ruby’s position, and he struggled to see over the gentle slope of the hill’s crest. He didn’t exactly have to see to feel the power in the air, to hear the dark, demonic voice coming from his brother’s mouth. Sammy, his heart ached at the sound. Sammy, please, come on, fight.
A low rumble ripped through the ground below, and he knew at once that Samael was reaching for the Gate. Dimly he saw Ruby shift and look behind to see him, and he met her gaze without flinching.
He choked back a startled yell as she stood, took aim, and fired the Colt directly into the crowd below.
Dean felt himself rushing forward as the bullet hit home. Even from far away, the killing light was blinding. Samael flinched roughly and turned away from his captive audience to look at his bride.
Silence fell across the field as, in slow motion, Lilith fell to the ground at his feet, the great Book tumbling roughly out of her small hand to rest in a heap in the short, withering grass.
Dean slid to a stop beside Ruby. He gripped the sword tightly, drawing strength from its closeness, gaping at the sight below.
He knew the instant Lilith died.
A wave of warmth washed through him like oxygen, liquefying his weakened muscles and dropping him to his knees. Heady euphoria enveloped him, and bright lights flickered at the edges of his vision. He breathed deeply, and an ethereal rush flowed inside him, filling up the empty spaces.
He blinked and sought out Ruby’s face. The demon inside was hidden from his sight, and she smiled down at him with startling blue eyes that were filled with tears. Instinctively he knew what it meant.
Dean had his soul back.
Tension filled the basin below, slowly building as the crowd began to realize what had happened. Samael was kneeling over Lilith’s body, and for one instant, the silence held.
But then he blinked, looked straight across the field to Ruby, and screamed.
Dean covered his face and ducked low into the grass as the white-hot blaze of the devil’s power washed over and around him, diverted by his grip on the sword. The power engulfed Ruby and she fell roughly down beside him in the grass, writhing as invisible tendrils bit into her, flaying deep wounds into her skin.
“Ruby!” He rolled low against the ground to her side and pulled himself into a crouch, dragging her back from the hill’s edge, hiding them both from sight.
“Dean, get ready,” she cried, grappling for his arms to push him away. He shoved her hands aside and pulled her jacket open to assess the damage. He flinched roughly.
“God, you … dammit, why didn’t you tell me you found the Colt!” The lacerations were getting deeper, and Dean shut his eyes, he couldn’t watch this, she was being torn apart right in front of him, and there was nothing he could do.
“Not important,” she gasped. “gone now,” she added, gesturing uselessly towards the melting hunk of metal beside them in the dirt. He looked then, and his eyes shifted from the remains of the Colt to the sword.
It wasn’t important. He was losing her, and he didn’t know what to do. He looked helplessly into her blue, blue eyes.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t give up, Dean. You h .. have to st…” Her voice was barely audible as she began to fade. “Stop him,” she finished.
“How?” he pleaded, leaning in close.
"It was ... a spell," Pain filled her eyes. "I used a spell, to keep you from remembering, didn't - dammit - didn't want you to ..." her chest heaved with the effort of breathing.
"Didn't want me to what?" he prompted, holding pressure over the gaping wounds. Her blood was everywhere, the human blood slick against his skin, the demon blood burning his hands with sulfur.
"To go, t … to go crazy." she gasped.
Dean's eyes filled with horror. "What are you saying? Why would I ..."
"Your ... pain," she gasped. "he .. not HIM, not, but .. Sam ... SAM can f - feel your pain, DEAN," she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down close. "Say ... the words, and you'll .. AHH," she cried out as she felt through her pocket for a scrap of paper and held it up to him, "you'll remember ..."
"Remember what? RUBY!" he shook her a little too roughly, harsh desperation to hear what she had to say outweighing his need to keep her with him.
Her eyes were fixing on the middle distance, and her last breath was a sigh of words as she slowly slipped away. "Remember ... Hell."
Dean gripped the paper in his bloodstained fingers, his mind spinning as he silently read the words. What he remembered in his nightmares was enough. Fear awakened deep inside him, relentless and invasive, threatening to weaken his resolve.
But he remembered Salvation, he remembered Sam’s voice after he’d seen those images. I won’t let you go back there, Dean. I won’t. Maybe … maybe if he could relive it, really remember it for Sam to see, maybe it would be enough.
Dean unsheathed the angel’s sword and gripped it firmly. He felt Heaven’s heat flow through his arm, granting him strength. Resolutely he walked to the hill’s crest.
His brother was waiting for him in the midst of the battlefield, and it was high time they had a talk.
Chapter twelve