Hunting Humanity VII | By : greenwizard11 Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1262 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Supernatural universe. No money is being made from this story. |
Dean went to bed and when he entered the room he heard Liam crying. He rushed to his lover’s side and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey! What?”
“My dad was right, I’m just a freak. Somehow he knew, and he did what he had to do.”
Dean lightly stroked his cheek. “No, don’t even start thinking like that. You are not a freak. You’re a little different, yes, but why does that have to be bad?”
“Dean, half the time I don’t even know what’s going on.”
“And you’re handling it better than I would. Look, one of the things I really admire about you is your strength. Your dad, he had no right to do what he did. But you made it through all that. And then when you became a vampire… You didn’t ball up in a corner and feel sorry for yourself. No, you up and decided you were going to fix it. It took you a long time. A lot of people told you it wasn’t possible. But you never gave in. You soldiered on and refused to give up. Now look at you.”
“Now I’m a demon killing freak.”
“No!” Dean wiped away a tear and then his hand touched Liam’s shoulder and lightly trailed down his arm. “You are an absolutely gorgeous and talented hunter with extremely helpful gifts. What you have are gifts. It’s no different than someone actually being a real psychic, or a prophet. Do you think Kevin is a freak that deserves to be tortured?”
“No. I think he’s kinda unlucky to have that kind of pressure put on him.”
“That may be. But you… I fell in love with you because you are unlike anything I have ever seen before. I’ve dealt with vampires. As you even saw, there was a small nest that lived off animals that Sam talked me into letting go a long time ago. Them, they just accepted their fate and tried to survive in the most harmless way possible. The determination I saw in you though… Like I just said, you refused to accept it, even after all that time. You remember how Benny said that when you’re changed your sire becomes like a god to you? You got pissed off at yours. Now, you were smart enough to not rock the boat long enough to learn the rules from him, but then you killed him. Benny even said that would take strength that not even he had. You… Sometimes I think all that fight in you gets you in trouble, like every time we’ve had to deal with law enforcement. But you don’t know the meaning of the word surrender.”
Liam sniffed and wiped his nose before a small grin appeared on his lips. “I guess I do sometimes cut my nose off to spite my face.”
“Yeah, you do. But I wouldn’t have you any other way.”
Liam reached up to cup Dean’s cheek. “You sure do have a high opinion of me. I still worry that one day you’ll wake up and realize you’re straight and I’m not worth the time of day.”
“As long as you’re alive I don’t think that will ever happen. Realizing I had feelings for you, at first it was a system shock. But it’s been what, almost six years? I’ve sat and thought about it, and I really think you’re just an exception to the rule. If god forbid something should ever happen to you, I’d probably go back to women. I mean, at this point, if the right guy ever came along I might be open to it, but it would be seriously hard to replace you.”
“Dean, I know we’re dealing with this last trial and all. And believe me, I know how important is, and that we can’t stop. But maybe after it’s over, will you marry me?”
Dean smiled down at him. “If that is what you want, that’s what you’ll have. Of course I’ll marry you. Do you feel better now?”
Liam nodded and pulled Dean down into a deep and passionate kiss. Dean returned it eagerly, and broke contact only long enough to remove his shirt. Then he climbed on top of his lover and started nibbling at his neck just under his jaw.
The next morning after breakfast they all started going through the files on demon possession to see if there was anything about curing one. Sam and Liam were seated at a table while Dean brought out an arm full of records. “Please tell me that's everything,” Sam said as his brother dumped the pile on the table.
“No, not even close. You see, the Men of Letters kept files on every demonic possession for the last three hundred years. I mean, we've got Borden, Lizzy, all the way to Crane, Ichabod. How you feeling?”
“Honestly, um... My, uh, my whole body hurts. I feel nauseous and like I'm starving at the same time, and everything smells like rotting meat.”
“I've had that hangover. Jaeger, man. Maybe you should, uh, take a break, get some air.”
“Dean, the only thing that's gonna make me feel better is finishing this.”
“Alright. Well, I'll go get you some grub, keep your strength up.”
Just as Dean was leaving Castiel came in. “Morning.” Dean didn’t acknowledge him. “I like this bunker. It's orderly.”
“Oh, give us a few months. Dean wants to get a ping pong table.”
“I've heard of that. It's a game, right?” He groaned as he sat down.
“Are you okay?” Sam asked.
“My wound isn't healing as quickly as I'd hoped... But I am getting better. And you're getting worse.”
“Well, two trials down, one to go.”
“And the final test, do you know what it is?”
“I have to cure a demon.”
Dean returned with a plate that he sat in in front of Sam. “Soup's on. There we go.” He sipped the open beer. “I think this is, uh... Oh, it's still good.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “A half drunk beer, jerky, and three peanut butter cups?”
“Yeah, we're running a little low. I'll make a run.”
“Dean, I can go with you?” Castiel asked. Dean didn’t answer. “Dean, I'm sorry.”
“For what?” Dean eyed him.
“For everything.”
“Everything? Like, uh... ignoring us? Or like bolting off with the Angel Tablet, then losing it because you didn't trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah. Nah, that's not gonna cut it. Not this time. So you can take your little apology and you cram it up your ass.”
Castiel looked at him with sad eyes. “Dean, I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“Yeah, you always do.”
Sam cleared his throat. “Hey, uh, do we have a room 7B?”
Sam, Dean, and Liam went to go find the room. It was filled with more files. “Dude, go easy on Cas, okay. He's one of the good guys,” Sam said to his brother as they entered the room.
“Dude, if anybody else, I mean anybody, pulled that kind of crap, I would stab them in their neck on principle. Why should I give him a free pass?”
“Because it's Cas.”
“Would you stab me in the neck?” Liam asked, looking a little worried.
“I would hope that you’re a little smarter than he’s been lately. What are we supposed to be looking for down here?”
Sam looked around. “Um, anything on case 1138. It was a class five infernal event; St. Louis, March 8, 1957.”
“Class five infernal event?” Dean raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah. See, the Letters have this whole rating system. ‘The Exorcist’ would have been a class two.”
“Alright, so, what makes this puppet show so special?”
“It was weird.”
“Weird how?”
Sam shrugged. “No clue. One of the files just had a note written in the margin about room 7B and the word weird with three exclamation points.”
“Here it is,” Liam called out when he found the file.
Dean was checking out two shelves. “Check this out.” He pulled the shelves back to reveal a room that had a giant devil’s trap on the floor and manacles on the walls.
Liam walked in and examined the manacles and his thumb traced over the etchings on them. “This is some serious spell work.”
Dean grinned. “So we have a dungeon. Finally! What do you got there?”
Liam pulled out an old film from the envelope he was holding. “Movie night.”
They managed to find a projector and a screen to watch what was on the film. It started off with a young priest on some stairs. Then they went into a room that looked like the dungeon they found with a demon chained in the center of the floor. The men watched as an older priest did an exorcism. At the end he sliced the palm of his hand and put it to the demon’s mouth. There was a flash of bright light and the woman lay dead, her chest open and heart missing. The filming stopped.
“Well, that was weird... With three exclamation points,” Dean commented.
Sam nodded in agreement. “That wasn't a normal exorcism. They changed the words.”
“I believe lustra is Latin for wash or cleanse,” Castiel commented.
“Oh, yeah, because that was the most freaky thing was the vocabulary,” Dean gave the angel a look. “What about the bloody high five or the chest burster? Anything else on the film, like director's commentary, sequel, maybe?”
Sam looked at the notes. “Yeah, listen to this. The older priest, Max Thompson, bit the dust in '58, but the younger one is still alive and still in St. Louis.”
“Think this kind of weird is worth the drive?”
“Dean, everything in those folders, the possessions, the deals, all of it, we've seen that before, but that... That was all new. Yeah, it's worth the drive.”
“Alright. Let's roll,” Dean stood up. Castiel stood up as well. “Not you.”
“Sam is more damaged than I am,” the angel argued.
“Yeah, well, you know, even banged up, Sammy comes through.”
“Dean, I just want to help.”
“We don't need your help. Just stay here and get better.”
They got in the car and tracked down Father Simon. They told him why they were there. “Father Thompson had some unorthodox ideas, which is why the Men of Letters were interested. A demon is a human soul, twisted and corrupted by its time in hell. Father Thompson believed that you could wash that taint away and restore their humanity.”
“So, what, they just stay in whatever schmuck they're possessing and get a ticket upstairs?” Dean asked.
“I wish I knew.”
“Okay, but this ritual... Can cure a demon?” Sam asked.
“I suppose, if it worked, but that night, something went terribly wrong. The Demon escaped into the world, and that poor old woman... It was horrible. I know father Thompson kept trying. There were other possessions, experiments, but I couldn't face that, not again. And then, a few months later... He was dead.”
“How'd that happen?” Dean asked.
“Something tore him apart.”
“Did he keep any, uh,” Sam started coughing. “Did he keep records or, uh… Do you have a bathroom, maybe?” Father Simon pointed toward the back of the church. “Thanks.” Sam got up and headed back.
“Is he all right?” Father Simon asked, looking concerned.
Dean shook his head. “Uh, no, padre. He's...pretty damn far from all right. That's why we're here.”
“I don't understand.”
“Well, short story is, uh, Sammy there is gonna take whatever shredded your friend and every other black eyed bitch out there, and he's gonna get rid of them for good.”
“He is? In his condition?”
“Father, over the past couple of months, I've seen him do crap that I didn't even think was possible. I mean, sure, he's miserable and he's hurting, but you know what? There's not a doubt in my mind that he's gonna cross that finish line, not one. So, will you help us?”
“I'll get Father Thompson's things for you.”
“Thank you. Babe, go check on Sam.”
They took everything back to the bunker and started looking through it. Sam came in to where Dean was sitting. “I can't find Cas. You think he blew town?”
“Sounds like him. So it turns out that, uh, Father Thompson recorded all of his demon cure tests. This one here, this was the last one, two days before he died.”
Dean started the recording, and the priest was talking about administering doses. “Do we know what padre was dosing number one dad up with?”
Sam nodded. “Uh, yeah, his own purified blood.”
“Purified how?”
“Before he started, Father Thompson went to confession.”
They continued listening, and at the end the demon seemed human once again. Sam blinked. “Did he just cure a demon?”
Dean shrugged. “Maybe. Could we take this hoodoo on a test drive?”
“Um, I mean, I have the exorcism right here. All we need is the blood, consecrated ground, and a demon. So, what? We summon a demon, trap it...”
“Sounds like a plan,” Dean nodded.
They were getting ready to prepare the consecrated ground when Sam’s phone rang with the number 666 showing up. Sam answered. “Hello, boy,” Crowley’s voice was on the other end.
“Crowley. How'd you get this number?”
“Ah, first things first, what are you wearing?”
Dean took the phone. “Oh, okay, hanging up now. Hang up.”
“Fine. This isn't a social call. I was wondering. You lads been reading the papers, say, Denver Times from yesterday? No? Well, you should. It's side splitting. What the hell, I'm sexting you an address. Check it out. Then we'll talk. Cheerio.”
Dean looked up the mentioned article. “Here it is. Victim’s name is Tommy Collins. Tommy. Why do I know that name?”
“Well, Tommy Collins, we saved him from a wendigo like forever ago,” Sam answered.
“Okay, and, what, you think that Crowley blew his head off? Well, what are we dealing with here? Some sort of demon-wendigo team-up?”
“Uh, no clue.” Sam’s phone beeped. “It's a text message from Crowley, an address in Prosperity, Indiana.”
“Prosperity? Didn't we work a case there? Yeah, yeah, the one with the witches and the baked goods. So what? He's going after somebody there now?”
“I don't know. We got to check it out.”
“Well, you know it's a trap.”
“Of course it's a trap. But a trap means demons, and we could use one right now.”
They drove out to the address and went in guns drawn. The place was quiet, but they found a burnt body in the oven. “Is that...Jenny?” Sam asked, a little horrified.
Dean sighed. “You were a great gal, Jenny Klein.”
Sam’s phone rang again. “What the hell are you doing, Crowley?”
“Oh, Moosie, isn't it obvious? I'm killing everyone you've ever saved, the damsels in distress, the innocent whippersnappers, the would be vampire chow, all of them.”
Dean shook his head. “How do you even know…?”
“I have my sources and a cracking research team. When you boys hit a town, you tend to leave a mess. Now, you're probably wondering why my droogs aren't in there giving you the bum's rush, so let's brass these tacks, shall we? I'm gonna gut one person every twelve hours until you bring me the Demon Tablet and stop this whole trials nonsense.”
“We don't have the tablet. Kevin took it and...” Sam seemed upset.
“I took Kevin. Then someone took him back. Word from the cloud is that it wasn't heaven. So either the cutest little Prophet in the world is with you two lads, or you better find him tout bloody suite because time, she is a wasting. About now, you're thinking of ways to stop me. You won't be able to, but you'll try because that's what you do. You try. So, time for an object lesson. Indianapolis, the Ivy Motel, room 116. You have fifty seven minutes.”
They raced to the motel and knocked on the door. Sarah Blake answered the door, and seemed very surprised to see them. “What's going on?”
They gave her a quick explanation. “So a demon named Crowley is gonna kill me in sixteen minutes.”
“No, he's not,” Sam assured her.
Dean left to grab some stuff and he returned. “Sarah, long time. What you doing in Indy?”
“I was scouting an estate sale for my dad.”
Sam put a hand on her shoulder. “Look, we're gonna put Devil's Traps everywhere, the windows, the door. We've got holy water, an exorcism ready to play on a loop, and anything that comes through that door, it's meat. Look, I know this is insane, but insane is kind of what we do. We'll keep you safe.”
“Okay,” she gave a little nod.
“Okay? That's it?” Dean seemed surprised.
“You've done it before.”
Dean and Liam set to work demon proofing the room. Sam sat beside Sarah and noticed her playing with a wedding band. “That’s new.”
“Yeah, I... His name is Ian. He works search and rescue. Guess I have a type. Our daughter, Bess, she'll be one in a month.”
“That's, uh, great. I mean it. I'm really, uh... I'm really happy for you.”
“Thanks, Sam. And what about you?”
He showed his own wedding ring. “Her name is Natalie. Three kids if you can believe it. A son who is four, another who is two, and a daughter who is almost two months old.”
“Wow, that seems like quite a crew.”
“It is. Unfortunately most of the time I’m out doing what we do, so I don’t get to spend near enough time with them. They get dumped on their mother all the time. It’s uh, it has its problems.”
The phone rang again and it was Crowley. Dean answered. “Five... Four... Trios... Zwei... ...uno.”
Sarah fell to the floor gagging like she couldn’t breathe. Sam knelt by her. “Hey! Can you hear me? Sarah!”
“She's dying, and there's nothing you can do about it,” Crowley’s voice came over the line.
“You son of a bitch!” Dean shouted.
“Son of a witch, actually. My mommy taught me a few tricks.”
Realization dawned on Sam. “It's a spell. Find the hex bag!”
They all frantically started tearing the room apart while Crowley kept talking. “I thought of sending in a few of my bruisers, really letting them go to town. But then, well, trial one was kill a hellhound. Trial two was rescue a soul from the pit. So, from here on, I'm gonna keep everything hell related, demons, et cetera, away from you. Safe side and all that, plus, I just thought it seemed fitting. From what I understand, Sammy took that bird's breath away. What's the line? Saving people, hunting things, the family business. Well, I think the people you save, they're how you justify your pathetic little lives. The alcoholism, the collateral damage, the pain you've caused; the one thing that allows you to sleep at night, the one thing is knowing that these folks are out there, still out there happy and healthy because of you, you great, big, bloody heroes!”
“You're gonna be okay,” Sam tried to comfort Sarah while they kept searching.
“Sarah? They're your life's work, and I'm going to rip it apart piece by piece because I can, because you can't stop me, and because when they're all gone, what will you have left?”
“No, please, no,” Sam teared up a little as Sarah died.
“You want to keep those people alive. I want complete and utter surrender. The tablet, the trials, you'll give them up, or we'll keep doing this dance. Your choice, my darlings.” Crowley hung up.
Dean threw the phone across the room and it broke, the hex bag tumbling out onto the floor. Liam pulled Sam into a hug while Dean started cleaning up.
They went back to the bunker and Dean looked to his brother. “You okay?”
“What do you think?”
“Look, I know it's bad right now, okay, but we stick to the plan. We shut down hell.”
“How exactly?”
“We get a demon.”
“You heard Crowley. He's not gonna let one near us, and without a demon, all we can do is sit back and watch people we know, people we saved, die like Sarah.”
“So what are you saying?”
“I'm saying... Maybe this isn't one we can win. Maybe we should just take the deal.”
Liam leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. “Sam, there’s gotta be a way. While I know I can be a little too stubborn at times, after this dick move, it seems like the thing to do is bite back hard. I mean, maybe I could… I don’t know, give me some time to think about it. But I will come up with something.”
Sam gave him a small smile. “Now that’s the hobbit we all know and love. I know better than to bet against you.”
“Okay then,” Liam gave a nod.
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