Chapter Text
Demons from the past come back pretty easily. And if they’re determined enough, they will hunt you down through any means necessary.
-
John’s been going to town with the research. The walls are covered with information about Yellow Eyes, all sorts of weather charts, hieroglyphics, pictures, newspaper clippings, hand-written notes. There’s a shelf crammed with books. A stuffed deer head watches it all with blank disinterest.
John himself sits at a desk covered in papers, the Colt resting in front of him.
Sam leans against the kitchenette counter with Gabriel. Dean paces.
“So, this is it,” John says. “This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives, we been searching for this demon, right? Not a trace, just… nothing. Until about a year ago. For the first time, I picked up a trail.”
“And that’s when you took off,” Dean says.
“Yeah,” John says. “That’s right. The demon must have come out of hiding, or hibernation.”
Gabriel looks uneasy, but he might just be thinking.
Dean walks closer to John. “Alright, so what’s this trail you found?”
“It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California. Houses burned down to the ground. It’s going after families, just like it went after us.”
“Families with infants?” Sam asks.
“Yeah,” John confirms. “The night of the kid’s six-month birthday.”
Sam raises his eyebrows. New information. “I was six months old that night?”
“Exactly six months,” John says.
“So basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason,” Sam says. He scoffs without humor. “The same way it came for me? So Mom’s death… Gabriel… it’s all because of me?”
“We don’t know that, Sam,” Dean says.
“Oh, really?” Sam asks. “‘Cuz I’m pretty damn sure, Dean!”
Gabriel disappears from Sam’s side.
“For the last time, what happened to them was not your fault,” Dean says, frustrated.
“Right,” Sam shouts back. “It’s not my fault but it’s my problem.”
“No, it’s not your problem!” Dean shouts. “It’s our problem!”
“Okay.” John stands from the desk. “That’s enough.” He looks at his boys.
Everyone takes a breath and calms for a moment. Sam looks around and finds Gabriel missing.
“Gabe?” Sam asks, gently. “Wait, has anyone seen—”
Gabriel appears next to his boyfriend’s side. “I’m here, kiddo. Don’t worry about me.”
Sam takes Gabriel’s hand. “So why’s he doing it? What does he want?”
“Look, I wish I had more answers, I do,” John says. He gestures at his desk. “I’ve always been one step behind it. Look, I’ve never gotten there in time to save…” He looks down at the ground.
“Alright, so how do we find it? Before it hits again.” Dean leans against the desk, looking at John’s work.
“There’s signs,” John says. “It took me a while to see the pattern, but it’s there. In the days before these fires, signs crop up in an area. Cattle deaths. Temperature fluctuations. Electrical storms.” John hesitates, recalling a painful memory. “And then I went back and checked… and…”
“These things happened in Lawrence,” Dean says, a pit appearing in his stomach.
John nods. “A week before your mother died.” He looks to Sam. “And in Palo Alto, before...” John looks at Gabriel pointedly. “And these signs, they’re starting again.”
“Where?” Sam asks.
“Salvation, Iowa.”
Gabriel grips Sam’s hand tighter.
-
John’s truck and the Impala speed down a mist-covered road. Gray clouds cover the sky. The atmosphere is foreboding, especially as they pass the exit sign for Salvation on the other side of the road. Are you ready for Judgement Day?, the sign asks.
John pulls off to the side of the road to a small roadside park lined with trees, followed closely by the Impala. Everyone gets from their vehicles.
“God damn it!” John yells.
Gabriel tucks himself into Sam’s side, not at all cold in his jacket and Sam’s Stanford hoodie. Mostly, it’s an excuse to give Sam some contact. He has to ground his human.
“What is it?” Dean asks. He already has his pack out, fishing for a cigarette.
“Son of a bitch.” John smacks the bed of his truck.
“What is it?!” Dean asks.
“I just got a call from Caleb,” John says.
Dean lights his cigarette. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” John says. “Jim Murphy’s dead.”
“Pastor Jim?” Sam asks. “How?”
“His throat was slashed. He bled out. Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim’s place.” Pain marks John’s face. It isn’t rare that hunters die, but a friend of a Winchester…
“A demon,” Dean says. He runs a hand through his hair.
John nods.”
“Yellow Eyes?”
“I don’t know,” John says, breathless with emotion. “Could be he just got careless, he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we’re getting close.”
“What do we do?” Dean asks.
“Now, we act like every second counts,” John says. “There’s two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up, we cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that’s going to be six months old in the next week.”
“Dad, that could be dozens of kids,” Sam points out. “How do we know which one’s the right one?”
“We check ‘em all, that’s how,” John says. Signature Winchester Determination. “You got any better ideas?”
The words are thick in the air. Thick as the mist, thick as the drizzle of rain, thick as the unspoken words between them.
How things have changed since a year ago.
“No, sir,” Sam says.
“I’m gonna keep an eye on everything,” Gabriel says. “Make sure nothin’ puts you kiddos in a corner.”
John nods at them, and they all return to their cars. John leans on his trunk.
Dean turns back as he opens the door and stops. “Dad?”
“Yeah,” John says, replying to the unspoken words. “It’s Jim. You know, I can’t…” his face hardens. His sons watch him with concern. “This ends, now. I’m ending it. I don’t care what it takes.”
They get back into their cars. Gabriel kisses Sam’s temple and disappears.
-
John sits in front of the Salvation Children’s Hospital as a woman in a pink dress wheels herself out, looking hopeful. Good for her. He opens up the center console and shuffles through the fake IDs stored in it, picking out one and pinning it to the front of his jacket.
-
Sam sits in a filing room with blue tiled walls, a pale blond nurse bringing him another load of files.
“Here you go, officer,” she says.
“Thank you,” Sam says.
“You’re welcome.”
Sam returns to copying birth certificates into his notebook.
-
Dean’s lucky enough to be in the presence of a tanned receptionist with long dark hair, who looks up from her clipboard to him with a soft smile.
“Hi. Is there anything I can do for you?” she asks politely.
“Oh God, yes,” Dean says with a smile.
She smiles and looks back down.
“Only, I’m, uh… working right now, so…” Dean holds up his ID.
-
Gabriel prowls outside a few buildings before snapping to attention and disappearing.
-
Sam comes out of Salvation Medical Center, flipping through his notes. He clutches his head as he gets a vision. Visions come in flashes, with shocks of pain.
The Yellow Eyed demon is in a baby’s nursery. A mother looks out the window. There’s the sound of a train. Then the demon again.
“Hey, hey,” Gabriel says. He appears out of nowhere and holds Sam’s face in his hands and presses their foreheads together. “It’s okay, kiddo. It’ll be okay.”
“A train,” Sam breathes. He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a map, unfurling it.
-
Sam’s in a park, checking his map, Carhartt falling from one shoulder. Gabriel’s by his side, prepared for another vision.
It comes, the same vision flashing in front of him once more. Pain strikes through his head. Sam adjusts his jacket and rubs at his head.
“Aw, Sammoose,” Gabriel says, tenderly.
The house is in front of them, and he doesn’t know if he got there himself or if Gabriel guided him there. The woman from his vision pushes a stroller along the road, holding an umbrella. A car beeps at her. She waves back with a polite hi!, cheery and full of life.
Sam approaches them as the rain begins to lessen. “Hi,” he says. “Here, let us hold that for you. You look like you don’t need that anymore.”
“Oh. Thanks.” She closes her umbrella while Sam holds her stroller. He looks inside.
“She’s gorgeous,” Sam says. “Is she yours?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, wow, hi!” Sam says to the baby. Then Gabriel elbows him in the ribs. “Oh, sorry, I’m rude. I’m Sam. This is my husband, Gabriel. We just moved in, up the block.”
“Hi. I’m Monica. This is Rosie.”
“Hiya, Rosie,” Gabriel says to the baby. He smiles widely and wiggles his fingers in front of her. This baby has two futures, he knows. And for someone who’s tugged at the strings of fate before, he knows what he has to do to give her a normal life.
He just doesn’t know if the Winchesters will be able to.
“So, welcome to the neighborhood,” Monica says.
“Thanks,” Sam says. “She’s such a good baby!”
“I know. I mean she… she never cries. She just stares at everybody. Sometimes she looks at you and I swear it’s… it’s like she’s reading your mind.” Monica is all smiles.
Gabriel laughs and looks at the pensive baby. “That’s how one of my little siblings was when he was a baby,” he says. “Just sorta staring at everyone. Oh, he had these… just big blue eyes. He grew up and he still looks at everyone the same way.”
“What about you, Monica? Have you lived here long?”
“My husband and I, we bought our place just before Rosie was born.”
“And how old’s Rosie?” Sam asks.
“She’s six months today,” Monica says. “She’s big, right? Growing like a weed.”
Sam looks down at the baby. He has the same knowledge as Gabriel, or at least he thinks he does. This child, she can either be normal, or she can be like Sam. And Sam is willing to fight like hell to give this poor girl a life she would love instead of one torn to pieces by tragedy.
“Yeah,” Sam says. “Monica…”
“Yeah?” she asks.
“Just take care of yourself,” Gabriel pipes up. He smiles. “You know, we’re supposed to adopt a kiddo ourselves pretty soon. Maybe one day we’ll be exhausted parents together, huh?”
Monica smiles kindly at them. “We’ll see you around,” she says. She turns to her house, a red station wagon pulling into the drive. It honks. “There’s Daddy!” she says to Rosie.
A man walks from the car and greets both Monica and Rosie.
Sam’s vision punches him in the gut.
The bedroom clock stops. Nursery rhyme stops playing. The silence is oppressive, everything dark and gothic. Wind sweeps through. A black figure approaches the bed. Monica opens the door.
“What are you…?”
The demon turns to her. She’s pulled to the wall and up to the ceiling. Blood drips from her stomach.
“Rosie!”
Flames.
-
Sam sits at the motel table, rubbing at his temples. Gabriel leans against his side. Dean and John sit on the end of each bed, watching them both.
“A vision,” John says flatly.
“Yes,” Sam says, slowly. It’s pulling teeth, explaining things to John. “I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling.”
“And you think this is going to happen to this woman you met because…”
“Because these things happen exactly the way I see them,” Sam explains.
“It started out as nightmares. Then it started happening while he was awake.” Dean gets off the bed and walks to the counter to get more coffee, standing behind Sam and Gabriel.
Sam winces. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s like—I don’t know, the closer I get to anything to do with the demon, the stronger the visions get.”
“Alright,” John says. He turns to Dean. “When were you going to tell me about this?”
Sam and Dean stop, turning to look at John. Gabriel clenches his fists.
“We didn’t know what it meant,” Dean says.
“Alright, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you call me,” John commands.
Dean dumps the coffee back into the pot and slams the cup on the countertop. Then he strides to John with confidence. “Call you? Are you kidding me?” he asks, voice dangerous and angry. “Dad, I called you from Lawrence, alright? Sam called you when I was dying.” Dean gestures angrily to Gabriel. “We can just pray to feathers over here and he’ll show up. Getting you on the phone? I got a better chance of winning the lottery.”
Gabriel glares at John.
“You’re right,” John says, stepping down. “Although I’m not too crazy about this new tone of yours, you’re right. I’m sorry.”
“Look, guys, visions or no visions, fact is, we know the demon is coming tonight. And this family’s gonna go through the same hell we went through.” Sam pulls Gabriel close to him.
Gabriel nuzzles against his side.
“No, they’re not,” John says. “No one is. Ever again.”
Dean walks back to his coffee cup.
Sam’s phone rings. He answers it. “Hello?”
“Sam?”
“Who is this?” Sam asks.
“Think real hard,” the silky, holier-than-thou voice says. “It will come to you.”
“Meg,” Sam says.
Dean and John startle at the name and turn to Sam.
“Last time I saw you, Gabriel pushed you out a window.”
“Yeah,” Meg says. “That really hurt my feelings, by the way.”
“Just your feelings?” Gabriel asks.
“That was a seven-story drop,” Sam says.
“Lemme speak to your dad.”
Sam looks at John. “My dad,” he repeats. “I don’t know where my dad is.”
“It’s time for the grown-ups to talk, Sam. Let me speak to him now.”
Gabriel grits his teeth and takes the phone from Sam. “Let’s talk, then,” he says, loudly. “Since we’re the most grown-up here, aren’t we? Even though you’re just a baby.”
“Ah,” Meg says. “Vermin. I can nearly smell you through the phone.”
“Right back at you.” Gabriel snaps up a martini. “So tell me, whippersnapper. What I gotta do to put you in a corner? Kill you for real this time?” He holds the phone between his cheek and shoulder to stir his martini. “‘Cuz, you know, I’d love to see you dead more’n anything. Killin’ people’s one thing, but trying to force yourself on someone? Even demons have standards. What would Luci think of you—”
“Give the phone to John Winchester before I kill his friend.”
Gabriel rolls his eyes. “You’re a real charmer, did you know that? Patience is a virtue. Anyone ever teach you that where you’re from, or was dear old dad more of a fan of the vices?” He still hands the phone to John regardless.
“This is John,” John says, eyeing Gabriel suspiciously.
“Finally. A real adult.”
“I was here before you were a twinkle in your daddy’s gross eyes,” Gabriel announces loudly.
“Howdy, John. I’m Meg. I’m a friend of your boys,” Meg says. “I’m also the one who watched Jim Murphy choke on his own blood. Still there, John-boy?”
“I’m here,” John says.
“Well, that was yesterday. Today I’m in Lincoln. Visiting another old friend of yours. He wants to say hi.” She lowers the phone to him.
“John, whatever you do, don’t give—”
“Caleb?” John asks.
Sam and Dean go onto alert, ready to jump into action if they need to.
There’s nothing they can do. But they don’t know this.
“You listen to me,” John says. “He’s got nothing to do with anything. You let him go.”
“We know you have the Colt, John,” Meg says.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” John shakes his head.
“Oh, okay. Well, listen to this.” Over the phone, Meg slits Caleb’s throat, and holds the phone so John can hear him gasping, choking on his own blood.
“Caleb!” John yells.
“You hear that?” Meg asks, voice smooth and unbothered. “That’s the sound of your friend dying. Now let’s try this again. We’re going to keep doing what we’re doing. And your friends, anyone who has ever helped you, gave you shelter, anyone you ever loved… they’ll all die unless you give us that gun.”
Gabriel’s showing his teeth like an animal, gritted hard enough to draw blood if he had any.
John quietly thinks. Sam’s by his side, watching him. Dean strides to the door and lights up a cigarette.
“I’m waiting, Johnny. Better answer before the buzzer.”
“Dad, we have Gabriel,” Sam says. “He can—”
“Okay,” John says, quietly.
“Sorry?” Meg asks. “I didn’t quite get that.”
“I said okay, I’ll bring you the Colt,” John says.
“There’s a warehouse in Lincoln, on the corner of Wabash and Lake. You’re gonna meet me there,” Meg says.
“It’s gonna take me about a day’s drive to get there,” John argues without any venom. He sounds exhausted.
“Meet me there at midnight tonight,” Meg says.
“That’s impossible,” John says. “I can’t get there in time and I can’t just carry a gun on the plane.”
“Oh,” Meg says. “Well, I guess your friends die, don’t they? If you do decide to make it, come alone.” She hangs up.
Gabriel finishes his martini and snaps the empty glass away.
-
Sam’s hands are firmly tucked into the pockets of his Carhartt, one looped around Gabriel. “So, you think Meg is a demon?”
“Either that, or she’s possessed by one. It doesn’t really matter,” John says.
Sam looks at Gabriel. “You know what she is, don’t you? A demon, right?”
Gabriel nods. “Oh, she’s a demon, alright.”
“What do we do?” Dean asks. He’s smoked half the cigarette already.
“I’m going to Lincoln.”
“What?” Dean asks.
“It doesn’t look like we have a choice,” John argues. “If I don’t go, a lot of people die. Our friends die.”
“Dad, the demon is coming tonight. For Monica and her family,” Sam says. “That gun is all we got, you can’t just hand it over.”
“Who said anything about handing it over?” John asks, all trickstery. He’s where the boys get their jester’s attitude from. “Look, besides us and a couple’a vampires, no one’s really seen the gun. No one knows what it looks like.”
“So what, you’re just gonna pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?” Dean asks. He ashes his cigarette.
“Antique store,” John corrects.
“You’re going to hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?” Dean puts out his cigarette and lights another one. His hands tremble with rage.
“Look, as long as it’s close, she shouldn’t be able to tell the difference,” John reasons.
“Yeah, but for how long? What happens when she figures it out?” Dean asks.
“I just… I just need to buy a few hours, that’s all.”
“You mean for Dean and Gabriel and me,” Sam says, all measured deadpan. “You want us to stay here, and kill this demon by ourselves?”
“I want to stop losing people we love,” John says. “I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home.” He turns to look out the window, though it’s covered by a gauzy ivory curtain. The light frames him like a war hero. “I want… I want Mary alive.” His voice trembles. He faces his boys again, tears in his eyes. “It’s just… I want this to be over.” Pain floods his voice. “You have Gabriel. If anything goes wrong with you… then he’ll make sure Yellow Eyes dies.”
-
Sam and Gabriel stand with John at the back of his truck, checking weapons. They’re silent. Even Gabriel, who chatters nearly every second of every day, is completely silent. Inhumanly silent. He doesn’t make a single sound, as though he isn’t letting his body make any.
Even the weather is miserable, Still drizzling, and cold enough that their breath shows. Mud collects on the bottom of their shoes.
The Impala comes toward them. Dean gets out, already lighting his cigarette.
“You get it?” John asks.
Dean pulls a brown paper bag from his inside pocket and hands it to John. John pulls out an antique gun. “You know this is a trap, don’t you?” Dean asks. He takes a deep drag. “That’s why Meg wants you to come alone.”
“I can handle her,” John says. He turns the gun in his hands. “I got a whole arsenal loaded. Holy water, mandaic, amulets…”
“Dad…”
“What?” John asks.
“Promise me something.” Dean ashes his cigarette.
“What’s that?” John asks, but it’s less of a question than a demand.
“This thing goes south, just… get the hell out. Don’t get yourself killed, alright? You’re no good to us dead.” He glances at Sam, then looks back at John.
“Same goes for you,” John says.
Gabriel steps forward. “You know, I don’t have a father,” he confesses, his voice steady. “I haven’t for years. I don’t know where he went, and some of my siblings have devoted their whole lives to finding him. Life’s different when you lose your dad.” He gives John a heavy, hard look, weighted with lifetimes of knowledge. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“Gabriel,” John says, as an acknowledgement. He looks between Gabriel and Sam, then sighs. “Sam, I’m… I’m glad that you found someone who makes you happy. I’m not happy it’s an angel, or a man, but… if he makes you happy, and he helps you hunt…” He shakes his head. “You’re a good man, Gabriel. Keep Sam safe.”
He turns to Dean next.
“Dean,” he says. “Don’t smoke in my damn car.”
“Yes, sir,” Dean says, looking away, embarrassed by his bad habit.
“Keep your brother safe if Gabriel can’t. And…” He claps Dean on the shoulder. “You’re doing me proud, son.” He lets go of Dean’s shoulder, then clears his throat, pulling the real Colt from his pocket and comparing it to the false one. “Now, listen to me. They made the bullets special for this Colt. There’s only four of them left. Without them, this gun is useless. You make every shot count.”
“Yes, sir,” Sam says.
Gabriel raises his eyebrows, remembering John hasn’t seen the full extent of his archangel abilities. Well, neither have the boys, but at least they appreciate his ability to kill shit.
“Been waiting a long time for this fight,” John continues. “Now it’s here, I’m not gonna be in it. It’s up to you boys now. It’s your fight, you finish this. You finish what I started. Understand?”
Dean stares at him. Sam nods.
He hands Dean the Colt.
“We’ll see you soon, Dad,” Sam says, voice choked up with emotion.
“I’ll see you later,” John says. He gets in the truck and leaves.
Gabriel and the Winchester boys stand, watching him pull away into the distance. Cold, muddy water splashes in his wake.
“Later,” Dean says.
-
Johnny boy pulls up to a sketchy warehouse in his truck, then gets out with the antique gun, a rosary, and a flask of holy water, because there’s no point in going in unless you’re going in with guns blazing. He jogs along an alley and checks the pipes running along the walls.
-
Sam and Dean sit in the front seat of the Impala, Colt between them. Gabriel’s in the back, seemingly tuned into Angel Radio. The Winchesters watch Monica and her husband.
“You don’t think dad—”
“Sammy. Shut up.” Dean rolls down his window and lights a cigarette.
“Dad told you not to—”
“Sammy. Seriously.” Dean takes a deep drag of his cigarette. “Don’t you know when to shut up? And if you got a problem with the smokin’, why don’t you take it up with your boyfriend? He’s the one who gave them to me in the first place.”
“That’s childish,” Gabriel says. His voice is serious and flat. “I cut out the middleman ‘n saved five bucks. I won’t bother next time.”
“Thought you were on the radio, feathers.”
Gabriel glares at him through the rearview. “I’m tryin’ to save your daddy, actually, before he gets himself killed.” He snaps his fingers and Sam appears in the backseat next to him. “I need the moral support.”
Dean shuts up and watches Monica and her husband finish dinner.
“Maybe we could tell ‘em it was a gas leak,” Sam suggests. “Might get ‘em out of the house for a few hours.”
“Yeah, and how many times has that actually worked for us?” Dean asks.
“Yeah.” Sam pauses to think. He wraps his arm around Gabriel’s waist and lets Gabriel rest his head on his shoulder. “Is that my hoodie?”
“Mm-hmm,” Gabriel says.
“We could always tell ‘em the truth,” Sam suggests to Dean.
Dean turns around and looks at them both for a long moment, one eyebrow raised.
“Nah,” he and Sam say together.
“I’m trying to focus.” Gabriel’s eyes are still closed. From the outside looking in, it looks like he’s sleeping against his boyfriend’s shoulder, not potentially keeping his father-in-law alive.
Sam runs his fingers through Gabriel’s hair. “I know, I know,” Sam says. “I just… with what’s coming for these people…”
“Sam, we only got one move and you know it, alright? We gotta wait for that demon to show itself and then we get it before it gets them.” Dean ashes his cigarette.
The Winchester brothers both look at the house for a while. Dean finishes his cigarette. He lights another.
“I wonder how Dad’s doing,” Dean says.
“I’d feel a lot better if he were here backing us up.” Sam looks down at Gabriel. “Guess it’s better that Gabe’s watching him.”
Dean sighs.
-
John opens up the water tank on the roof, holds the rosary up. Says a little prayer in Latin, then he’s all done, so he drops the rosary into the water.
Smart move, really. But you don’t get this far by being dumb.
-
“This is weird,” Sam says.
“What?” Dean asks, now on his third cigarette.
“After all of these years, we’re finally here. It doesn’t seem real.”
“We just gotta keep our heads and do our job, like always,” Dean says.
“Yeah, but this isn’t like always.” Sam looks down at Gabriel and kisses the top of his head.
“True,” Dean agrees.
“Dean… ah… I wanna thank you.”
Dean raises his eyebrows. “For what?”
“For everything,” Sam says, thinking of their entire childhood. Well, really his childhood, because from what he knows, Dean didn’t have much of one. Dean’s childhood was spent making sure Sam could have a life. “You’ve always had my back, you know? Even when I couldn’t count on anyone, I could always count on you.” He looks down at Gabriel. From what he’s heard… Gabriel never really had someone he could always count on. Just himself and the sheer force of his personality. “Some people don’t have that.” He looks back at Dean. “Ah, uh… I don’t know, I just wanted to let you know. Just in case.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, are you kidding me?” Dean ashes his cigarette.
“What?” Sam asks.
“Don’t say ‘just in case something happens to you’. I don’t wanna hear that freaking speech, man, Nobody’s dying tonight.” He gestures wildly with his cigarette. “Not us, not that family, nobody. Except that demon. That evil son of a bitch ain’t getting any older than tonight, you understand me?”
-
Meg’s in the middle of the warehouse and turns to see good old John walking towards her. He stops just a few feet short.
“John, you made it. Too bad, really. I was hoping to kill more of your friends.”
“Sorry to disappoint,” John says. He doesn’t have much of a sense of humor in life or death situations. Dean must’ve gotten his from somewhere else.
“I can see where your boys get their good looks. Though I must admit, considering what they say about you, I thought you’d be… taller.”
John just stares at her.
Contrary to popular belief, kids, you don’t have to be tall to kick ass.
“Well, aren’t you the chatty one. Though if I wanted to chat, I’d probably have asked for the vermin.” Med tilts her head. “You wanna get to business? Fine. Why don’t you just hand over the gun.”
It’s a pity that Meg ended up being a demon. The vessel’s a pretty girl. Probably had a family that loved her, friends who enjoyed her presence. Could’ve had a long, happy life.
Demons always get in the way of things.
“If I give you the gun, how do I get out of here?” John asks.
“If you’re as good as they say you are, I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
“Maybe I’ll just shoot you,” John threatens darkly.
“You wanna shoot me, baby? Go ahead. There’s more where I came from.”
A male demon walks from the shadows. He’s fine-looking, too, if you’re curious, but he doesn’t have the sheer amount of stage presence that Meg does. Say what you will about her. She att least knows how to command attention.
“Who the hell’s that?” John asks.
“He’s not nearly as much fun as I am, I can tell you that. So I suggest you give us the gun.”
John stares at the other demon for a few long seconds, then back at Meg, hesitant.
We know where the boys get their acting abilities from, don’t we?
“Now!” Meg barks.
John hands the gun to her.
She checks it out, suspicious as ever. “This is the Colt?” she asks.
John nods.
Meg hands the gun to the other demon, which is like signing your death warrant in your own blood. “What do you think?”
He looks at it, points it at the ceiling, cocks it, and then shoots Meg in the side. Blood blooms against her white shirt.
Well, trying to kill your boss is a great way to get fired if you fuck up.
Meg staggers back. “You shot me!” she yells. “I can’t believe you just shot me!”
“It’s a fake,” the other demon deadpans.
Well, looks like Johnny boy’s in some trouble, isn’t he?
-
Gabriel’s brow furrows. He grits his teeth and leans further into Sam’s side.
-
“You’re dead, John. Your boys are dead.”
John backs away. If he can’t shoot his way through a situation, he can charm and scheme and lie. “I’ve never used the gun. How could I know it wouldn’t work?”
“I'm so not in the mood for this. I’ve just been shot!” Meg advances after him like a cat after a mouse.
“Well, then, I guess you’re lucky the gun wasn’t real.”
Oh, that John Winchester. He’s pretty funny, isn’t he?
“That’s funny, John,” Meg says, voice lyrical, but just as intense. “We’re going to strip the skin from your bones, but that was funny.”
A noise sounds, distracting Meg, and good old John takes that moment to run into the other room and lock the door behind him. He goes down a hatch into the alley from earlier. You know the one. With the pipes? Yeah.
Meg and the other demon follow him.
John reaches the other end, turns on a tap, and water just sprays all over the floor. It’s a real flood. The other demon pauses, then continues, now in front of Meg, but his feet steam. He jumps backwards and yells.
Funny. Very funny.
“Holy water, John,” Meg says. Her voice echoes. “Real cute.”
John has the gall to smile before he takes off.
Well, that must be where Sam gets his cute little cocky grin from.
-
Dean’s on his phone and his fourth cigarette. “Dad’s not answering,” he says.
“Maybe Meg was late. Maybe cell reception’s bad,” Sam suggests. He looks down at Gabriel. “Gabe, what—”
“Yeah, well…” Dean re-dials.
The radio buzzes with static.
“Dean, wait. Listen.” Sam leans forward and turns the dial on the radio all the way up. Static comes and goes. The wind picks up and howls around the car. The lights inside the house flicker.
Gabriel’s eyes pop open. “Showtime.”
The Winchesters jump from the car.
-
John’s truck, tires slashed.
Fuck.
-
Dean uses a credit card and slides the lock on the front door open. The Winchesters enter the house silently. They approach the lounge, Sam and Gabriel leading. Dean’s confronted by Monica’s husband, who comes at him swinging with a baseball bat. He misses and smashes a lamp.
“Get out of my house!”
Dean grapples with him, grabbing his arm and successfully disarming him.
“Get out of my house!” he repeats.
“Please, please,” Sam begs. “Mister Holden, please.”
Dean takes control of the situation, throwing Holden against the wall with the bat across his throat. “Be quiet and listen to me,” he says, sharply. “Be quiet and listen. We are trying to help you.”
“Charlie?” Monica asks from upstairs. “Is everything okay down there?”
“Monica, get the baby!” Charlie yells.
“Don’t go in the nursery!” Sam yells.
“You stay away from her!” Charlie says. He struggles against Dean.
Dean, always the pragmatic pacifist, backhands him, knocking him unconscious against the wall, and puts him over his shoulder. Classic fireman's lift.
-
Monica’s pinned against the ceiling by an invisible force. Sam and Gabriel burst into the room.
Yellow Eyes, the dark figure himself. The cause of all of Sam’s issues.
Gabriel’s breathing heavy, for once. Sam’s frozen.
“Rosie!” Monica yells from the ceiling.
Sam raises the Colt and pulls the trigger. The demon disappears into a puff of dark black smoke, and Monica falls to the floor. “Where the hell did it go?!”
“My baby!” Monica stands, and tries to run forward to the crib, but Sam holds her back. “My baby!” she yells, fighting against him.
“No, wait!” Sam says.
“My baby!” Monica fights as hard as she can against Sam.
Sam looks at Gabriel, whose face has gone hard, and he looks like he’s concentrating on something.
“I should kill you,” Gabriel whispers.
Dean dashes past them to the crib. “Take her and go!” He makes sure the baby’s still actually there, amazed that this is going so well.
“Rosie!” Monica yells.
“Come on,” Sam begs her.
“My baby!” Monica protests.
“Dean’s got her.” Sam forces her from the room with all six feet four of him.
Dean wraps the blankets around Rosie and pulls her up. And then the crib bursts into flames. He races out of the room. “Gabe, dude, c’mon!” He grabs a fistful of Gabriel’s hoodie and pulls him along.
Gabriel seems to come back to himself and snaps them from the house.
-
John stops at a dead end, gasping. He grabs for his phone, but he’s pinned against the wall and loses his grip. The male demon stands in front of John. He smiles.
Fuck.
-
The nursery window explodes, flames and broken glass shooting from it. The doorway is full of smoke. Sam and Monica run from it, coughing.
Charlie staggers up from the grass. “You get away from my family.”
“No, Charlie, don’t. They saved us,” Monica says.
Dean and Gabriel appear, holding Rosie.
Monica begins crying. “I mean, they saved us.” She takes the baby from Dean. Her husband puts his arms around both of them. They’re all terrified, but safe. For now. Tomorrow morning, they will learn about the terrors of the world. “Thank you,” Monica tells the Winchesters and Gabriel.
Sam and Dean turn back to the burning house.
The nursery window. There’s the demon, silhouetted in the burning nursery, completely still in the carnage it’s caused.
But another life hasn’t been ruined.
“It’s still in there!” Sam starts charging in.
Gabriel grabs him. “No,” he whispers.
“Sam.” Dean grabs his other side. “Sam, no.”
“Dean, Gabe—lemme go. It’s still in there. We gotta—”
“No,” Dean says. It’s burning to the ground. It’s suicide.”
“I don’t care!” Sam yells. His eyes burn with anger, and fear, and other emotions. It’s the thing that ruined his life. Took his mom. Tried to take Gabriel. He has to kill it before other kids end up like him. It’s his duty. His sacred duty.
“I do!” Dean yells.
The demon disappears. Gabriel gives him the finger.
-
Dean’s pacing around the motel room, holding the phone to his ear, smoking a cigarette. Sam sits on the bed with Gabriel.
“Come on, Dad, answer your phone, damn it,” Dean says, frustrated. He hangs up when he gets voicemail again. “Something’s wrong.”
Sam’s staring at the wall, angry. He’s not touching Gabriel at all.
“You hear me?” Dean asks. “Something’s wrong,” he repeats.
“If you had just let me go in there, I could’ve ended all this.” Sam’s voice is deadpan and low. “Both of you.”
“Sam, the only thing you would have ended was your life.” Dean puts out his cigarette.
“You don’t know that,” Sam argues.
“I do,” Gabriel argues back. His hair is fluffed up and his sleeves are rolled all the way up past his elbows.
“You could’ve saved me then!” Sam argues.
Gabriel stands and walks away from him.
“So what, you’re just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?” Dean asks, walking toward the bed.
“Yeah,” Sam says, standing from the bed. Gabriel looks at him, eyes hard. “Yeah, you’re damn right I am.”
“Well, that’s not going to happen, not as long as I’m around.” Dean stands in front of his brother. “And what about your boyfriend? Huh? Someone who loves you.”
“We’ve been searching for this demon our whole lives,” Sam says. “It’s the only thing we’ve ever cared about.”
“Sam, I wanna waste it,” Dean says, raising his voice. “I do. Okay? But it’s not worth dying over.”
“What?” Sam asks.
“I mean it. If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed, then I hope we never find the damn thing.” His eyes are open and full of fire.
“That thing killed mom. That thing tried killing Gabriel.”
“And you want yourself dead so you can’t even enjoy me being alive!” Gabriel says from across the room. He snaps next to Sam. “You can’t just run into a situation all suicidal ‘cuz you got an archangel in your life now. I can’t protect you from everything in the world, Sam.” He pushes Sam’s chest. “D’you get it? Yellow Eyes—he isn’t gonna stop until he gets what he wants. And you don’t want to know what he wants.”
“What does he want, then?” Sam demands.
Gabriel looks at Sam and shakes his head. “Something terrible,” he says. “Really, cupcake. He—He’s planning something terrible.”
Sam crosses his arms. “You can’t tell me?”
“I don’t have all the details yet, okay?” Gabriel scrubs at his face. “I don’t know. Something with the kids. I’ve been asking around on Angel Radio. But no one really knows.” He shoves his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. “But you can’t die. Not yet. It’s not your time.”
“How do you know when my time is?” It’s not a question. Sam looks exhausted and ragged.
“Because I know things,” Gabriel says. “Archangel.” He looks up at Sam, face gravely serious. He looks older than his vessel has looked to the Winchesters before. “You’re gonna live a long, happy life.” He looks at Dean. “Both of you. That’s your fate. And as much as I love meddling with fate, I’m not gonna get either of you chucklefucks kill yourselves doing some stupid shit like running into a burning building to fight a demon.” He glares at Sam. “So if you’re mad at me for that, fine. Whatever. I don’t care.”
Sam’s shoulders drop. He grabs Gabriel and holds him close.
“Sam, look,” Dean says, quietly. “The four of us… that’s all we have. And it’s all I have. Sometimes I feel like I’m barely holding it together, man… and without you or Gabriel or dad…”
“Dad,” Sam says. He lets go of Gabriel and walks across the room. His eyes are full of unshed, nervous tears. “He should have called by now. Try him again.”
Dean takes a deep breath, then raises his phone to his face.
-
On a bench, John’s phone rings. Meg picks it up. She looks at the screen, smiles, and answers it. “You boys really screwed up this time,” she says.
“Where is he?” Dean grits through his teeth.
“You’re never going to see your father again.”