Crossroad Blues. // Dean //

Sam Winchester
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Crossroad Blues. // Dean // Nov 25, 2014 23:41:46 GMT -5

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Post by Sam Winchester on Nov 25, 2014 23:41:46 GMT -5

ooc; SEASON TWO. EPISODE EIGHT.

"Well...you officially are on the Feds list now." Sam spun his laptop around so that Dean could see the picture of his own face posted. They'd made a clean breakaway from Baltimore a few weeks ago which he was sure was baffling a few cops at this very moment. "Will they ever once just use a good picture" Dean complained good-naturedly, dunking a fry in ketchup and chewing on it. "It's not funny Dean" Sam reprimanded instantly. "It makes the job harder. We have to be a lot more careful if they start posting your mug shot every where." Dean swallowed and took a sip of beer. "Yeah, well what do they have on you? Accessory...aiding and abetting...anything?" Sam had already looked but there was nothing. "I'm sure they just haven't gotten around to posting it yet" he muttered, trying not to sound jealous or petty. It was ridiculous that he felt either one. But it didn't work. Dean grinned mockingly. "You're jealous." Sam snapped his laptop closed irritably. "Shut up." Dean's grin widened. Chuckling, he leaned back in his chair and produced a newspaper which had been sitting on the chair next to his. "Alright, you good harmless innocent civilian, you...care to work a job?"

Sam gave a grouchy sigh. "What do you have?" Still chuckling, he unfolded the paper and lay it out flat so that the headline was glaring up at them. "Sean Boyden" Dean announced in a grim tone, vastly opposite from the one he'd been using a few minutes ago. "A prodigy architect who jumped from the top of a high-rise...that he designed." Sam wrinkled his nose.

"Ouch."

Last Edit: Nov 26, 2014 9:13:24 GMT -5 by Sam Winchester

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Crossroad Blues. // Dean // Nov 26, 2014 14:15:28 GMT -5

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Post by Dean Winchester on Nov 26, 2014 14:15:28 GMT -5

Dean gave a mildly uninterested shrug. A guy deciding his life was too hard and swan diving off a building was not what motivated him to check the case out. And Sam stumbled upon that key fact next by asking, "so why is this a job?" "Because of this." He pointed to a much lower area of the article. "Boyden was rumored to have been freaking out in the day prior to his death because of a big black dog that was following him." Sam raised an eyebrow. "You don't think...could it be an actual black dog?" Black dogs were rare and the lore on them was all over the place. They were supposed to be death omens.

Dean took the paper back with another shrug. "Dunno." Another pause and then, "let's go."
~~~

"I'm sorry, what did you say you were writing again?" Sean Boyden's old partner stood in his kitchen, looking curiously between the brothers, clearly wondering if he'd made a wrong choice in allowing them entrance. "A tribute for Mr. Boyden" Dean answered promptly. "Architecture Digest." He tapped on his notepad with his pen officially.

Sean's partner shook his head, massaging his temples. A gesture that did not slip past either brother unnoticed. "Is there something wrong" Dean asked at once. Sean's partner gave a somewhat bitter laugh. "No...it's just...tributes...Sean always got the tributes...I mean, the guy killed himself, leaving me and his family behind and he's still getting them..." Sam and Dean swapped an interested look, neither daring to interrupt in case he wasn't done ranting. Which he wasn't. "I guess he deserved them and all...he was a visionary...the greatest architect I'd ever known...but it wasn't like he was always like that. Heck, ten years ago, he was a bartender at some place called Lloyd's...couldn't even design a pup tent. I was the better architect. And then suddenly...overnight..." He shrugged and exhaled slowly. The brothers exchanged another look. Dean closed his notepad.

"You don't say."

Last Edit: Nov 28, 2014 10:31:22 GMT -5 by Dean Winchester

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Crossroad Blues. // Dean // Nov 28, 2014 22:02:25 GMT -5

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Post by Sam Winchester on Nov 28, 2014 22:02:25 GMT -5

The brothers thanked Sean's partner for his help and left. "So now what" Sam questioned as they approached the Impala. While it still didn't sound like much more than a suicide, he did have to admit that Boyden seemed to have everything to live for. And there was still the black dog issue to deal with. Dean seemed to be on the same page with that one, as apparent by his remark of "I guess we head to the animal control place...check out all local black dog sightings or complaints." Sam nodded, sliding into the passenger-seat and fastening his seat belt. "Let's go then."
~~~

Forty-five minutes later, Sam was growing restless. Dean had gone into the local animal control headquarters half an hour ago. When he finally reappeared, Sam rolled his eyes. "You were gone long enough. What were you doing in there?" Almost as soon as he asked the question, he wasn't sure he wanted the answer. Dean grinned, sliding into the car. "The receptionist's name is Carly. She's a Pices, she loves sushi, she"- "Dean" Sam cut him off with another eye roll. "Did you actually get any work done?" Dean presented a crisp sheet of paper, full of black printed lines. "Names and addresses of everyone who submitted a complaint about anything vaguely big, black or doglike in the last month" he announced. "Oh and this...whatever it is. I have no idea." He held up a yellow post-it note with a shrug. Sam reached over and plucked it from his brother's hand to study it. He couldn't help chuckling. "You mean Carly's myspace address?" The girl had written it on the post-it followed by quite a few hearts and smiley faces. "Yeah, what is that?" Sam knew Dean was genuinely asking. He'd been sheltered from the world of technology his whole life being on the road and all. Any and all computer work he did dealt with cases and even then, he mostly let Sam do it. Sam had taken that hiatus for his four years of Stanford. He was much more attune to social media things. Instead of answering, he simply returned the post-it and kept chuckling, shaking his head in amusement. Dean started up the car. "Seriously, what is it?" Trust Dean to be hit on and not know he was being hit on. "Don't worry about it Dean" Sam assured him.

They had more pressing issues to deal with.

Last Edit: Nov 29, 2014 11:30:06 GMT -5 by Sam Winchester

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Crossroad Blues. // Dean // Nov 29, 2014 12:30:31 GMT -5

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Post by Dean Winchester on Nov 29, 2014 12:30:31 GMT -5

Two hours later, they had knocked on about half the doors on the list, posing as animal control members, trying to pin down this mysterious black dog Sean had supposedly seen before dying. "Next up" Sam announced, scanning the list as Dean parked the car in front of a lavish white brick home. "Dr. Silvia Perlman." Dean cut the engine and they made their way up the front steps. "I swear, if this is another freaking pomeranian barking in the neighbor's yard..." Dean muttered, lifting one hand to knock three times. "May I help you?" The woman who opened the door smiled kindly. "Uh, yes, we're looking for Dr. Perlman...we're from animal control." Dean flipped open his badge professionally and held it up to eye level. Sam did the same. The woman looked puzzled. "Someone from animal control stopped by yesterday morning." "We're just doing a follow up" Sam lied smoothly while the boys snapped closed their badges and tucked them out of sight. "Are you the doctor" Dean questioned. "No, I'm Dr. Perlman's maid" she clarified. "And I'm sorry but the doctor isn't here. She packed up and left a few days ago." The brothers exchanged a look. Dean raised a curious eyebrow. "Did she say where she was going?"

The maid shook her head apologetically. "No. She didn't say how long she'd be gone for either." There was a brief pause and then she backed up to allow them entrance. "Did you finally catch that stray dog?" Dean began poking around the kitchen subtly. Sam kept the maid's attention off of this by answering her question and then posing one of his own. "No, not yet. Now...you didn't happen to see the dog too did you?" The maid gave another apologetic shake of her head. "No. I didn't even hear it to be honest. At first, I thought maybe she was making it up, but...well, the doctor isn't like that." Dean, from next to the refrigerator where he was inspecting the clump of pictures magneted to one side, piped up with, "I heard she was chief of staff at the hospital...what is she, like 42, 43? That's pretty young for that kind of job." "Youngest in the history of the place" the maid acknowledged with a proud smile. "It was out of the blue too. About ten years ago. She was thrilled."

"An overnight success ten years ago" Sam reiterated, glancing towards his brother. Dean removed one of the pictures from the refrigerator on his way back over to the island counter that Sam and the maid were surrounding. "Yeah, we know a guy like that" he mentioned casually before holding up the picture for Sam's benefit and flipping it around to reveal that the location it had been snapped at was written down.

Lloyd's bar.

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Crossroad Blues. // Dean // Nov 29, 2014 13:48:22 GMT -5

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Post by Sam Winchester on Nov 29, 2014 13:48:22 GMT -5

Lloyd's Bar was not hard to find. It was the only bar in town. "So what's the plan then" Sam questioned as they exited the car and made their way towards the log cabin-type building. "Just head in and ask if anyone remembers Sean or the doctor?" Dean shrugged. It didn't seem like a solid plausible plan in the slightest. Even if the two of them were recognized by the other patrons, what then? Even if they managed to figure out for certain this was a black dog issue, what then?? If the lore on just what they were supposed to be was crazy, the lore on killing them was practically none existent. But as it turned out, they didn't even need to enter the bar for answers.

"Hey Sam, check this out." Dean had detoured to a patch of small yellow flowers planted in a square of grass which bordered the dirt pathway they were standing on. Sam knelt beside his brother, running the petals of one flower between his fingers. "That's yarrow, isn't it" he half-asked, half-declared. Dean released the flower he'd been observing, straightened up and dusted off his hands. "Used in some summoning rituals, yeah." The boys backed up a few paces, looking down at the dirt at their feet. For the first time, it became apparent that they were standing on one end of what turned into quite a large crossroads.

Sam moved closer to its center, glancing left and right. "You think people have been summoning demons? This IS a crossroads." Dean shook his head grimly. "Crossroads are where pacts are made Sammy. They're not just summoning them...they're making deals with the damn things." Sam felt his heart sink. "So these people are seeing dogs...but not black dogs...they're seeing hellhounds. Demonic pitbulls." He'd read up on them years ago.

He didn't remember much, but the parts he remembered were not good.

Last Edit: Nov 29, 2014 14:34:28 GMT -5 by Sam Winchester

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Crossroad Blues. // Dean // Nov 29, 2014 15:26:25 GMT -5

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Post by Dean Winchester on Nov 29, 2014 15:26:25 GMT -5

"Great" Dean muttered. "So whatever demon made the deals ten years ago is probably back collecting." "Or they sent their dog to do it for them" Sam amended. "Well I know one thing...that doctor lady...where ever she's running...she's not running fast enough." Dean did a complete 360 degree turn, taking in every viewpoint from where he was standing. "This seem about dead center to you" he asked after completing the turn. Sam did a quick double check with his own eyes and nodded. Dean lowered himself to one knee and began uprooting handfuls of dirt. "You have to put your picture in to work the ritual right? So let's see who's responsible for summoning the bastard, shall we?" After a few seconds, his fingers hit something solid. "Got it." He pulled the tin box free, shook the remnants of dirt from its lid and opened it. Inside was a black cat bone, a vial of what had to be graveyard dirt, and a frayed 10 year old picture of an african american man. "Bingo."
~~~

Ten quick minutes later they were exiting the bar, an identity in hand. George Darrow. A regular at Lloyd's for several years. His apartment wasn't far from the bar and the boys found it with no trouble. "What exactly do we plan on doing here" Dean wanted to know as they climbed the stairs. "Saving George? I mean, it's not like we know how to do that. And besides, it's not like the guy is squeaky clean. He made the deal. No one twisted his arm." "That doesn't mean he deserves to die Dean" Sam countered in shock. Dean didn't say anything. Instead, he pointed at the base of the door they had just approached. Lining the crack between the door and floor was a line of black dust, strongly resembling pepper. He squat and took a pinch of it up in two fingers, feeling its texture. It was then that the door was flung open and the same man from the picture, just ten years older, was staring down at him. His eyes travelled from Dean up to Sam and then back down again. "What the hell are you doing?" Dean straightened up, dusting off his hands. "I think you reached for the wrong shaker there pal. See, usually, when you want to keep something evil out, you use salt, not pepper."

George eyed them skeptically. "Who are you people? What do you want?" "To help" Sam replied genuinely. "We know all about the deal you made ten years ago" Dean added, less genuinely, though not as frosty as a few minutes ago when discussing it with Sam. George sighed heavily, backing into his apartment, allowing the boys entrance after him. "It was stupid. But I was weak" he said softly, looking out a window. "Who doesn't want to be great? Who doesn't want their life to mean something?" Sam's expression was still soft, comforting. Dean's was still tight. George went on miserably. "Of course, I should have asked for fame. I asked for talent." "Was it worth it" Dean asked instantly. "Of course not." George crossed to his open liquor cabinet and poured himself a glass of scotch, downing it in seconds. "The worst part of it all was that damn thing wasn't done once I finished my deal. It stayed in town for a week, just signing more contracts..." He poured more scotch. "I tried to warn people but who's going to listen to an old drunk?" He gave a bitter laugh.

Dean didn't give George time to wallow in his self pity. "Who were the others" he demanded. George took another swig of scotch and swallowed. "There were the architect and doctor lady...I kept up with them in the papers..." "Who else? Think George" Sam pressed gently. George frowned in deep concentration. "One other...Hudson...Evan Hudson. Nice guy. Don't know what he asked for." There was a heavy silence. Finally, Sam asked slowly "hey George...what was that stuff in front of your door?" "Goofa Dust" he answered promptly, followed by a short laugh when their faces remained blank. "You boys think you know something about something but you don't know about Goofa Dust??" "Well, we know a little about a lot of things" Dean corrected, moving to the window, shifting aside the curtain and peering out. "Just enough to make us dangerous." He let go of the curtain, watching it flutter black into place. "It keeps out monsters. It's hudu. My grandmother taught me" George explained, dropping dejectedly into a chair. "I know you boys are trying to help, but I'm resigned to my fate. I'm just trying to stall until I finish my last painting. So leave me alone. Go help someone who wants saving."
~~~

"Evan Hudson?" George had given them a pouch of Goofa Dust, they had looked up Evan's address, and they stood on his front porch a few minutes later. A reedy man with thinning blond hair and a general look of uneasiness looked back at them. "Yes?" Dean got straight to the point. "You ever been to a bar called Lloyd's? Would have been about ten years ago." Evan slammed the door in their faces and they could hear his footsteps slamming into the floor hard as he ran as fast as possible up a flight of stairs. Sam gave his brother a "well that was productive" look. "Oh come on" Dean shouted, throwing up his hands. "We're not demons!" He lifted one foot and brought it crashing into the front door, bringing the whole thing to the ground in one motion. Stepping over the wreckage, the Winchesters moved briskly through the house.

It wasn't hard to find Evan. His terror made him clumsy and loud, knocking things over in attempts to hide. As they entered the study to find him with his back to the wall, he whimpered, "Please don't hurt me." Dean rolled his eyes. Sam approached calmly, hands up, palms out. "We aren't here to hurt you." "Then why are you here?" He shrunk back against the wall, protecting himself as best he could. "We know about the deal you made and we're trying to help" Dean announced shortly, getting a little tired of having to repeat himself and bend over backwards to help save people from their own messes. Evan deflated a little. "Oh." Dean smiled dryly. "Yeah. We just don't know why you did it. So...what'd you ask for Ev? Bowling a perfect game, never need viagra, what?" Sam shot him a warning look. "Dean, stop."

Evan turned away from the brothers, his thin shoulders heaving. "My wife" he finally said unsteadily. "I get it" Dean patronized, with a fake smile of sympathy. "She didn't know you existed so you signed over your soul and bang, true love and happy endings, right? You couldn't come up with one better way to get her attention?? That was a deal with a demon! What were you thinking??" "Dean!" Sam put a hand on his brother's shoulder, pulling him back a step or two, straightening him up out of attack stance. "That's enough." Evan turned to face them, wringing out his hands. "No, he's right, it's my fault. I made the deal. No one put a gun to my head." His eyes glazed over. "I mean, at first when the woman approached me and told me I could have anything I wanted...I thought she was nuts. But I don't know...I was desperate." The way he was talking didn't sound too much like a horny guy who had wished for a hot chick to notice him. It sounded deeper. Dean shrugged his brother's hand from his arm and stepped closer again, his tone far less hostile. "Desperate?"

Evan's glazed eyes teared up. "Julie was dying" he finally admitted. "Cancer. They'd stopped treatment." He let his hands drop to his side, suddenly defensive for the first time. "I love her. I'd have died for her on the spot. So yeah, ten years sounded pretty damn good. And I made the deal. I'd do it again." Dean tilted his head to one side. "You did this for her" he questioned in a way that, had Evan known Dean better, he would have picked up on the trap he was laying. "Yeah." He nodded firmly. "Of course." Dean righted his head, giving it a shake. "I don't think so Evan. I think you did it for yourself. So you wouldn't have to live without her." He took another slow step towards her. "Well guess what. Now, she's going to have to live without you. How do you think that will make her feel??" He was getting fired up again. For a reason that had nothing to do with the man standing before him. But he took it out on him anyway. "How do you think she'll feel knowing it cost you your soul?!" Evan's eyes were very wide. He backed into the desk, knocking a paperweight to the floor. "I...I didn't..." "Think" Dean finished. "Exactly."

Pivoting on one heel, he jerked his head towards Sam and then the door, indicating he wanted to talk to him alone. Once in the hallway, he faced his brother. "You stick with Evan. Spread some of George's Goofa dust around. Keep that hellhound at bay." Sam raised a puzzled eyebrow. "What are you doing to do?" "I'm going to summon that demon. Trap it. Make it release Evan from his contract." Before he was able to make an exit, Sam's voice rang out. "No." Dean swivelled his head around slowly to pin his brother with an incredulous stare. "No" he repeated, baffled. "You're not allowed to say no, Sammy...not unless you have a better idea." He raised an eyebrow, waiting. Sam held his ground. "I'm not letting you do that Dean." The older Winchester took a step back towards his brother. "Why not?" "Because I don't like where your head is at right now, that's why not" Sam countered flatly, crossing his arms. "You've been acting really weird ever since we found out this was about crossroads demons and I think I know why." "I don't have time for this." Dean turned once again to leave and once again Sam's voice cut through him like ice. "Dad." There was a strained pause. Dean kept his back to Sam, but didn't make another attempt to leave yet. He half wanted to hear Sam's half-baked theory and was half-terrified of it, knowing how good Sam was at pinpointing what was bothering him deep down. "You think he made one of these deals" Sam continued calmly. "Hell, I've been thinking it too." Dean swallowed hard, his face a blank slate as he faced his brother again. "It fits" he answered hoarsely. "We knew the yellow-eyed demon was involved somehow. What if this was it. Dad traded his soul for my life?"

Sam shook his head imploringly. "He might have. But Dean, there's nothing you can do about it. At least not now. So let's figure out another plan." In the distance, there was a faint howl, followed by Evan's panicked shout of, "it's coming! Guys, it's coming!!" Dean reached into his pocket, surfaced with the pouch of Goofa Dust and tossed it to Sam, who caught it with one hand out of thin air. Dean pointed at him.

"Just keep him alive!"

Last Edit: Nov 29, 2014 20:18:26 GMT -5 by Dean Winchester

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Crossroad Blues. // Dean // Nov 30, 2014 21:36:34 GMT -5

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Post by Sam Winchester on Nov 30, 2014 21:36:34 GMT -5

Sam ground his teeth together in frustration as Dean took off in the opposite direction. Evan's shout reached a new level of desperation. "Sam?? Dean??! Help!" Sam exhaled sharply, pivoted on one heel and sprint back into the study. Evan was cowering in the corner, shaking more than a leaf in a hurricane. "Where is it" Sam demanded, spinning around in a complete circle, unable to see or hear anything. "By the door!" Evan pointed at the locked set of back doors. Sam opened the pouch in his hand and began spreading Goofa Dust as fast as he could, in front of every door and window. Evan straightened up, seeming at least a tad calmer now that Sam was in the room with him. "What is that stuff?" Sam finished with the entrances and began forming a large circle in the center of the floor. "Goofa Dust. Keeps back monsters like that hellhound out there." Evan cracked half a smile, as if he wasn't sure a full one was advisable. "You...you're kidding right?" Sam straightened up, tossing the empty pouch aside. "No." His face remained straight. "Believe me or don't believe me, I don't really care. Just whatever you do, stay inside this circle." He took Evan by the shoulders gently and urged him into the dead center of the newly formed Goofa Dust circle.

No sooner had this occurred than Evan tensed up. And Sam had heard it this time too. Growling, snorting, and deep barks on the other side of the locked doors, which started shaking with a great deal of force as though several large bodies were slamming into it at once. "Just stay in the circle" Sam ordered, his own posture stiff as a board, muttering grimly to himself.

"Come on Dean."

Last Edit: Dec 1, 2014 9:49:50 GMT -5 by Sam Winchester

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Crossroad Blues. // Dean // Nov 30, 2014 23:47:12 GMT -5

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Post by Dean Winchester on Nov 30, 2014 23:47:12 GMT -5

Dean drove like a bat out of hell back to Lloyd's, where he parked his car over a hastily thrown together decoy devil's trap before creating a second one in an opportune location, praying his plan was going to work. With this out of the way, he quickly tossed together a box of the necessary ingredients, capping it off with a picture from one of his many fake badges. He closed the lid, placed the box where George's had been, and covered it with dirt. As he was straightening up, an alluring voice from behind him purred, "well well well...Dean Winchester." Dean turned slowly. An attractive woman in a slinky black dress barely reaching mid-calf stood no more than a few feet away, arms crossed, watching him with interest. Dean raised an eyebrow. "You know me?" She sauntered closer with a lazy smile, her eyes turning red for a brief moment. "I get the newsletter" she quipped before getting down to business. "What can I do for you?" Dean glanced left and right, ensuring no one else was around before saying in a low voice, "maybe we should do this in my car...nice and private."

"Sounds good to me." The demon strolled alongside him as they approached the Impala. "I was hoping we could strike a deal" Dean started carefully. She chuckled. "That's what I do." Dean nodded his understanding. "I want Evan Hudson released from his contract." The demon shifted her gaze to Dean as they walked, narrowing her eyes. "Sorry darling...that's not negotiable." Dean held his ground. "Evan Hudson and his wife live a long life. And I'll make it worth your while" Dean promised. "What are you offering?" Dean stopped walking, facing her head on. "Me."

She laughed appreciatively. "Well. Things just got interesting. You would sacrifice your life for someone else's...like father like son." Dean's jaw tightened as she went on teasingly. "You do know about your Daddy's deal right? His life for yours. Oh, I didn't handle the deal myself but I wish I did." She circled him. "Now let's cut the crap about Evan Hudson. That's not what you summoned me for. Not really." Landing in front of him again, she placed both hands on her hips. Dean opened the passenger-side door of the Impala and waved her in. "After you then." "Such a gentleman" she mocked, taking another step and freezing. Her eyes had landed on the outskirts of the decoy devil's trap. Slamming the door without warning and nearly catching Dean's fingers in it, she advanced on him in fury. "A devil's trap??!! Why you little...I should rip you limb from limb." Dean's back was forced up against the base of the water tower. "Go ahead then" he dared her, his jaw still tight, eyes hollow.

For another minute, the demon seemed to consider making good on her threat, but then she exhaled slowly and took a step back. "No. No I don't think so." "And why not?" Dean's breath came out in wisps from the chilly air. The demon sneered. "Because your suffering is too much fun to watch. Your suffering is the whole point." She gave him a snide once over. "You blew it Dean. I could have given you what you really need." Dean moved around the leg of the watertower he had been backed into, moving under it instead. "Yeah? And what's that?" The demon's sneer widened. "Your father. Alive again." Dean's heartrate sped up. "What are you talking about?" She advanced on him again lazily. "I could have brought him back. Just the way he was. The Winchester boys together again." Dean's elevated heartrate slammed into his ribs. "What about me?" Another step closer. "I could give you ten years. Ten long years. Look" she went on softly, drawing closer still. "You're supposed to be dead. Your Dad's supposed to be alive. I'd just be putting things straight again. And you'd get a bonus of ten extra years. What do you say?"

Dean took a step backwards, silently measuring how many more steps she would need to take to be directly under his second devil's trap. "Do you think you could..." A final step. "Throw in a set of steak knives" he finished jauntily. The demon shook her head with disdain. "You know, this whole smart-ass defense mechanism thing you've got going on is getting"- She stopped. She'd tried to move closer to Dean, who was now outside the watertower once again, but was unable to leave its confines thanks to the devil's trap carved into its roof. Her eyes roved upwards, flashing red. "You've got to be kidding me" she growled. Now it was Dean's turn to smirk. He removed his father's leather journal from within his jacket, opened to the marked page and removed the rosary within. "You're going on a little trip down south" he remarked flatly. "Unless you release Evan from his contract. Now." When she said nothing, he began reading the latin verses written before him. The demon began to twitch and whimper in pain. "Forget about Evan" she gasped. "Think about your father." "Release Evan and I'll release you" Dean repeated firmly, moving closer, before continuing his latin. "WAIT" she cried out at last. "I'll do it!"

She flung herself at Dean and planted her lips against his, taking him completely by surprise. When she backed up, he simply stared. "What the hell was that?" "Sealing the deal with a kiss. It's how it's done." Dean made a face. "Usually I like to be warned before I'm violated with demon tongue." "Evan Hudson is free of his contract. He and his wife will live to ripe old ages. I promise." Dean stepped backwards out of the realm of the devil's trap, fingering the rosary still in one hand. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" She glared at him. "When I make a deal, I stick to it. My word is my bond. It's the rules." Her eyes travelled down to the rosary and journal which Dean still had not put away. He considered finishing the exorcism here and now, but as if reading his mind, the demon hissed, "you double cross me Winchester, and send me back to hell...well sooner or later, I'll climb back out and skinning Evan Hudson will be the first thing I do."

Dean waited another beat of silence before closing his Dad's journal, tucking it under one arm and pocketing the rosary. Next, he climbed the side of the watertower easily, and broke off a piece of the wooden siding, effectively putting a split straight through the trap. He jumped down from the tower, landing gracefully on both feet, coming face to face with the now free demon whose confident demeanor was returning. "I gotta tell you...you would have never made that deal if you knew how badly your poor Daddy was suffering at this very minute." "Shut up" Dean warned her, sliding his Dad's journal back into an inner jacket pocket, his shoulders stiffening. She ignored him. "See, people talk about hell, but it's just a word they throw out there. They have no idea what it's really like. And John Winchester...he's VIP. If you could hear his screams...begging his boys to help him..."

"SHUT UP!"

Last Edit: Nov 30, 2014 23:57:05 GMT -5 by Dean Winchester

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Crossroad Blues. // Dean // Dec 1, 2014 9:49:26 GMT -5

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Post by Sam Winchester on Dec 1, 2014 9:49:26 GMT -5

The barking and growling and shaking doors continued for quite a few more minutes before everything just stopped. Sam remained in the circle next to Evan, unsure if it was truly over or not. Unless Dean had encountered a particularly stupid, submissive demon who just immediately agreed to his terms...which Sam seriously doubted, he had expected it to take longer. Hence his reluctance to declare it over. And, almost as if on cue, the room's only vent suddenly blasted its cover free, gusts of air from outdoors pouring in. And although Sam could not see the actual physical dog itself, he could definitely see the scratch marks its claws were digging into the wooden floor as it approached their circle. And he could also see the air from the vent creating a nice wind that whipped up all the papers and lightweight objects in the study...including the Goofa Dust circle they were using for protection.

Sam watched in horror as the circle became smaller and smaller until finally the last of the dust blew harmlessly under the desk. "Circle's broken" Sam called over the dog's renewed growls and the howl of curtains snapping around, nearly breaking free from their hooks. "Run!" And run they did. Straight through the house to the first closet they reached. Sam practically threw Evan inside first before getting in himself, slamming the door and pressing his back against it. For a few brief moments of struggle, he felt himself nearly been thrown from his feet at the force the hellhound was using, trying to get at them. And then...

Everything stopped.

Panting, Sam pushed off of the door and glanced at Evan. "Can you still hear it?" He was wondering if maybe the beast had resorted to only letting the person tagged for death being able to see and hear it. They seemed to be able to turn that power on and off. Evan shook his head, looking as though he hardly dared to breath. "No." Sam heaved a deep sigh of relief.

NOW it was over.

Last Edit: Dec 1, 2014 9:51:34 GMT -5 by Sam Winchester

Dean Winchester
Hunter.

Our lives are weird, man.

Posts: 2,165

Crossroad Blues. // Dean // Dec 1, 2014 10:17:03 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Dean Winchester on Dec 1, 2014 10:17:03 GMT -5

Dean had lunged at the demon, not really thinking through what his plan of attack was, seeing as how he couldn't hurt or kill it. All he knew was that he wanted it to stop talking. And whether the demon was scared of him or had simply gotten bored of tormenting him, she tipped her head back, smoking out. With a mass exodus of black smoke, the no longer possessed human girl collapsed to the ground. It only took a few seconds for her eyes to flutter open weakly. "What...what am I doing here?" Her panicked eyes took in the deserted area, the watertower, and Dean. He could see her reaching the premature conclusion that he'd kidnapped her and was planning to attack her. So he made a hasty exit.
~~~

"Demons lie all the time Dean" Sam pointed out as they left Evan and his destroyed house in the dust. "Maybe she was lying. Maybe"- "Do you really think that Sam" Dean interrupted flatly. He'd known she was telling the truth from the minute the words left her mouth. He could just feel it. His Dad was burning in hell...being tortured...and it was all his fault. Sam didn't answer. He didn't have to.

"He shouldn't have done it" Dean finally exploded. "He did it to save your life" Sam reminded him gently. "And how I am supposed to live with that" Dean challenged gruffly. "I mean...he spent the last twenty some-odd years hunting the damn thing...he should have gone down fighting...not making deals with it. That's not the way his legacy was supposed to go..." "How many people do you think Dad saved" Sam questioned to which Dean snapped, "that's not the point Sam." Sam held his ground, speaking calmly and soothingly. "Evan Hudson is alive right now because of what Dad taught us. The people he's saved...and the people we've saved because he trained us...THAT's his legacy. So we have to keep going. For him." There was a long stretch of silence before Sam finally tried again, with a question that was clearly eating at him. "Hey Dean...when you were trapping that demon...you were just saying whatever you thought would reel her in right? You never seriously considered making that deal, did you?"

Dean turned up the music and said nothing.

[THE END.]

We hunt monsters....you know who does that? Crazy people!

Post by Sam Winchester on Nov 25, 2014 23:41:46 GMT -5

Post by Dean Winchester on Nov 26, 2014 14:15:28 GMT -5

Post by Sam Winchester on Nov 28, 2014 22:02:25 GMT -5

Post by Dean Winchester on Nov 29, 2014 12:30:31 GMT -5

Post by Sam Winchester on Nov 29, 2014 13:48:22 GMT -5

Post by Dean Winchester on Nov 29, 2014 15:26:25 GMT -5

Post by Sam Winchester on Nov 30, 2014 21:36:34 GMT -5

Post by Dean Winchester on Nov 30, 2014 23:47:12 GMT -5

Post by Sam Winchester on Dec 1, 2014 9:49:26 GMT -5

Post by Dean Winchester on Dec 1, 2014 10:17:03 GMT -5

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