Supernatural: Measure of A Man Part II(Season 1)

Basement of the House1

Dean came awake with a start, his hand instinctively reaching for the weapon that had remained tucked into his waistband when pain and darkness had harshly introduced themselves to his skull. He rolled quickly to his knees, vertigo briefly making him pause, but his senses on full alert.2

“Sammy!” he shouted out. Dean strained to listen for a reply in the blackness of the basement, but his brother’s voice was absent.3

He took a couple uncertain steps, his eyes seeking the form of his likely-injured brother. He sucked in a sharp breath when his shin rammed into a hidden obstacle.4

“Sammy!” Dean shouted once more, desperation and panic beginning to seep into his voice. When there was no response, Dean stopped his movement, closed his eyes and held his breath. Reaching deep inside, he debated for a split second what he was about to do. But this is for Sam … He felt the all-too familiar sensation of heat creeping up from within him, like a slow burn, threatening to engulf him if he lost control for even an instant.5

“I own you, you sonofabitch! Time for you to earn your keep,” Dean snarled quietly to himself.6

“Live in that illusion, Dean. You’re getting weaker. Each and every single day that passes, I’m taking a little bit more of you!” the voice replied.7

Focused on locating Sam, Dean stubbornly ignored the demon’s taunt and opened black eyes, his vision suddenly piercing through the darkness of the cellar and quickly locating his brother.8

Rushing to Sam’s side, Dean rolled him over and began checking him for wounds. A slow trickle of blood trailed from a small cut at Sam’s hairline accompanied by a trio of cuts on his right shoulder left behind by the creature’s sharp claws. Neither of the wounds were critical and as Dean continued to run his hands over his brother, Sam came around with a muffled groan.9

“Dean? I sure hope those are your hands, and if they are, get off me dude,” Sam mumbled, swatting his brother’s fingers away from exploring the wound on his shoulder.10

“Sammy? You okay?” Dean anxiously asked as Sam pushed off the floor with Dean’s arm immediately there to steady him.11

Swaying slightly, Sam struggled to see in the dark. He could feel rather than see Dean moving about the basement. In the back of his mind, Sam knew that there was no humanly way possible that Dean could make his way around without the benefit of a flashlight. Humanly, no.12

The sudden glare of afternoon sunlight blinded Sam as Dean threw open the outer door to the basement. Sam wasn’t surprised that Dean immediately turned away from him once the room was illuminated. Sam wasn’t stupid either, he’d been watching his brother carefully enough over the past weeks to know when Dean was hiding his eyes, hiding the fact that he had yet again called up the evil resources of the demon.13

“What the hell was that thing?” Sam asked, following Dean outside.14

Dean squatted down, his fingers touching the damp ground as he brushed away stray pieces of leaves. The barest sign of some sort of track was pressed into the soft soil, but it was distorted and not like anything Dean had ever seen before.15

Curiosity biting at him, Sam knelt down beside his brother. He too saw the fragment of a print in the dirt and like Dean, there was nothing familiar about it.16

“Do you think that belongs to the Devil?” he questioned as Dean rose and began to scan the woods beyond the overgrown lawn.17

“I dunno Sam. That track is like nothing I’ve ever seen before, but since when does something supernatural play Barry Bonds with my head?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the darkening forest.18

“Dean, there are more tracks over here. They lead into the woods!” Sam stated, pointing off into the tree line.19

Dean shivered visibly. He was having a hard time believing that the Jersey Devil had just randomly attacked them in the basement of a deserted house, using a baseball bat no less. Still, there were the claw marks on Sam’s shoulder and the trail on the ground. What to make of those? As he stood there nearly frozen in place, he couldn’t help but feel as though they were being watched. Like prey being observed by the predator, Dean could sense the malevolence that hung on the air emanating from the thick greenery.20

Movement to his left stirred Dean from his suspicions and he turned to see Sam heading towards the forest edge. He didn’t want to follow, not sure if the nagging at the back of his mind was his hunter’s instinct or rather simply his subconscious trying to justify a reason to avoid hunting down this creature. Still, there was no way he was letting Sam’s strange crusade get the better of him, no way he was going to let his brother mistake his reluctance for fear.21

They entered the woods carefully, Dean with the .45 drawn and ready. It was eerily quiet, only the sound of their boots crunching down on the occasional twig. Now and again, a bird would suddenly take flight, startling the two hunters, but not diverting them from the trail. A few hundred yards in and Sam pulled up sharply, Dean nearly running into the back of him.22

“What the hell, Sam,” Dean exclaimed. “You need brake lights installed or something.” As the last of his complaint trailed off, Dean peered around Sam’s side and spotted what had halted his brother dead in his tracks.23

A large assortment of animal carcasses lay strewn across the pine needle carpet of the forest floor. In various states of dismemberment and decay, each appeared as though they had been half-eaten then discarded. Sam grabbed a nearby stick and began poking at the carrion. He exposed several sun-bleached bones laying half submerged under the fresh loam indicating that this area had been a dinner table for much longer than the fresher kills initially led the hunters to believe.24

While Sam concentrated on the ground, a swift breeze coursing through the treetops diverted Dean’s attention upward. As his eyes squinted against the fading afternoon sun, Dean noticed the jagged scars carved into the bark of the surrounding pines. Dozens of claw marks scored the standing wood nearly a foot above his head. He reached inquisitive fingers up, straining to touch the marks.25

Sam drew up next to him, easily reaching past Dean’s tiptoe stance and running his own fingers along the carved out trenches.26

“Freak!” Dean muttered, offended by his taller brother’s ability to reach the high spot. He turned away and busied himself with examining a duplicate set, lower down than the first, when a flash of movement ahead of him drew his eye.27

He stood immediately, his hand bringing up the automatic and pointing it in the direction of the passing shadow. Sam heard the quiet click of the safety being thumbed off of the .45 and he shifted to see what had suddenly caused Dean to go into defensive auto-pilot.28

Both hunters remained frozen for a palpable moment. Highly honed senses on full alert, they both scanned the forest surrounding them. Another quick blur, more birds startled into the air, and Dean charged off deeper into the woods with Sam a step behind him.29

As his feet carried him haphazardly forward, Dean thought he could just make out the outline of the creature. Not as imposing as the claw marks and bizarre tracks might have led him to believe, he raced ahead trying to catch a full glimpse of the thing, A fast twist then turn around a large cluster of trees and just as quickly, the creature had vanished.30

Dean skidded to a halt, his head turning rapidly from side to side as he hunted for another sign of their prey. Sam stopped next to him, his chest heaving breathlessly. He hadn’t seen whatever Dean had been chasing after, instinctively following his brother and trusting his adept hunting skills.31

“Dean, what did you see?” Sam asked, but before his brother could reply, an unearthly scream ripped through the silent forest.32

Both hunters spun around, unable to pinpoint the origin of the horrific noise. It sounded again, sending an involuntary chill down Dean’s spine as he twisted, his gun seeking a viable target.33

One last screech echoed between the trees and then just as suddenly the woods returned to the deafening silence. Dean’s arm remained rigid, his weapon at ready for a few moments more. When there was no further noise or movement, he relaxed and returned the automatic to the inside of his jacket. Turning to Sam, he finally answered his brother’s earlier question.34

“I don’t know what I saw, not for sure, but that howl was definitely not human and definitely not a bear,” he admitted. Looking quickly about them, Dean noticed that the afternoon sun was slowly giving way to the twilight of early evening. The sensation of being watched had returned and there was no way that he wanted them to be out in the woods after dark with whatever had just made that noise.35

Turning to face his brother, Dean continued. “Let’s get out of here Sam. It’s getting dark and we aren’t prepared for a night hunt. I’m not looking for a repeat of Blackwater Ridge.”36

“Dean, we’ve got the trail … " Sam began.37

“And it’ll be here in the morning. We’ll come back first thing Sam. If that thing has been around over three hundred years, one more day won’t make a difference,” Dean ordered as he started back the way they came.38

Sam trudged along behind him, irritated that they were walking away when it seemed as though they were so close to discovering the creature. But he had to admit that his brother was right: one more day wouldn’t make a difference. Truth be told, he was exhausted, as much from the cuts and bruises as from the recent lack of sleep.39

As they neared the outer edge of the pines, the old house looming in the foreground, Dean turned back to look at the darkening forest. He knew the shadows were nothing more than the waning light of day reflecting off the tall trees, but he felt like ethereal eyes were watching them again. Just as he placed an arm behind Sam to usher his sibling further away from the woodland's edge, out of the corner of his eye he spotted the creature, a misshapen head peeking from around the side of a large pine, staring back at him.40

From that distance, the thing seemed human, almost sad, but definitely not threatening and for a moment, Dean again found himself disbelieving the legend and lore. In the split second it took for Dean to blink, just as mysteriously, it was gone. The unseen flutter of flapping wings rose above the hunters' heads and a final screech from the treetops spurred the brothers on toward the waiting security of the Impala.41

* * * *42

Motel – Later that night43

Sam lay staring up at the popcorn ceiling; the occasional flash of a car headlight from the street out front pierced the partially drawn curtains and illuminated the darkened motel room. To his left, Dean lay on a duplicate twin bed, covers twisted about his body as he was consumed in fitful slumber. As Sam listened, he could hear the occasional groan escape his brother as Dean tossed and turned.44

Usually one that slept dead to the world, ever since returning from Haris’ clutches, Sam had noticed that Dean’s sleep was now marked by disturbing shouts and screams. He could only imagine what was haunting his brother’s dreams and deep down he knew that the demon inside Dean was likely the culprit as much as the horrors of being held by Haris.45

Sam considered waking his brother to help stop whatever nightmare was currently playing in High Def in his head. He could always use the excuse that he was checking Dean for a concussion; after all, head versus baseball bat certainly warranted it. Except, Sam knew better and he knew that Dean would know the real motivation as well. In the wake of Dean’s confession the previous morning, Sam could tell how much the demon possession was weighing both mentally and physically on his older brother. The sheer fact that his usually stoic sibling had voiced his fears spoke volumes about his state of mind.46

Sam also knew that the one thing he could attempt to do for him, in light of his unsuccessful search for a permanent fix, was to try and act like nothing had changed between them. The problem was that Sam just couldn’t force himself to look past the nearly healed bruise that marked where the Jersey Devil had attacked Dean or the barely injured knuckles that had been open and oozing just twenty four hours before. He couldn’t help but remember Meg, falling several stories to the ground only to turn back up like the Energizer Bunny. He also couldn’t erase the memory of the real Meg dying on Bobby’s floor once the power of the demon inside her was taken away leaving her broken and bleeding body to fend for itself.47

Considering Dean’s penchant for finding danger, giving it a stiff middle finger and taunting it to do its best, Sam worried that his brother would end up like Meg. Or worse, if Dean kept tapping into the power of the damn thing, how long would it be before the temptation was just too great, the need too extreme to ignore? Either way, Dean would be lost.48

His mind caught in the whirlpool of "what-if’s" Sam didn’t notice that his own breathing was evening out, exhaustion and his own injuries threatening to draw him under the cloak of sleep. He was nearly out, his lids drooping heavily, his muscles relaxing as he unconsciously shifted to a more comfortable position. As his body turned to the left facing his brother’s bed, Sam’s eyes snapped open, instantly wide awake as he saw Dean sit straight up in bed. Even in the near pitch black of the room, Sam could see the blank stare on Dean’s face.49

“Dean?” he called out softly. “Are you alright dude?” Dean remained silent, his eyes fixated on some unknown target across the room.50

Sam rose up now, turning on the bedside lamp and tossing aside his own blanket. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he paused, waiting for some sort of awareness in his brother, but Dean held rigidly still.51

“Dean? You okay?” he asked once again, his bare feet hitting the floor and closing the short distance between the beds. “Is your head alright?” No answer and Sam’s worry increased tenfold.52

“Is it a nightmare?” Sam chanced the subject as he drew near enough to see his brother’s wide eyes.53

His brain processed the absence of hazel irises and the appearance of jet black a split second too late as Dean grabbed him by his t-shirt and threw Sam effortlessly, yet viciously, across the room. His body slammed into the far wall with a loud crash, the force of the impact crumbling the aged drywall, knocking the air from his lungs and opening the small cut on his forehead once more.54

Dazed, Sam struggled to rise, but Dean was faster and pounced on his brother’s prone form like a tiger. Only his training saved him from what happened next as Dean’s hand flashed, Bowie knife glinting, removed from its nightly resting place and heading straight for Sam’s chest. Sam reacted, his hands closing around Dean’s right wrist, the tip of the knife mere inches from tasting his flesh and plunging into his heart.55

Dean’s face was so close to Sam’s that the younger man could feel his brother’s warm breath as Dean huffed with exertion, fighting to drive the weapon home. Muscles bulged in Sam’s arms as he fought desperately to push his brother back, but he was fighting against stacked odds. Sam against Dean in a physical contest was never a sure bet, but Sam going up against a demon-possessed brother was no contest at all.56

Looking up into his brother’s dark eyes, nothing familiar remained in Dean’s features. Sure, the short cropped brown hair and old scar below his right brow greeted him like always, but now, the animosity contained in the narrowed eyes and the hard, determined stare reflected nothing of the brother that Sam had known all his life. His heart leaped into his throat as he considered that his nightmare and Dean’s voiced fears had finally come to pass.57

Sam’s arms began to shake as his biceps succumbed to the greater strength, the knife inching closer as a sadistic smile of victory spread across Dean’s face. Sam tried to get his knee in-between their bodies in an effort to throw his brother off, but Dean shifted his weight, his own leg burrowing into Sam’s gut and driving a whoosh of air from him. As Sam struggled to divide his energy between holding off his possessed brother and taking a breath, the knife in Dean’s hand nipped the edge of his t-shirt.58

Panic drove the younger Winchester as he could feel his own strength failing him. In a last ditch effort to save his own life, Sam screamed out his brother’s name, hoping to break through the demon’s control and reach that place he prayed some part of his brother remained.59

“DEAN!”60

The pressure on the blade lessened just slightly but Dean’s eyes remained glaring and black.61

“Dean, please, fight it!” Sam begged, his hands, still gripping Dean’s wrists, visibly shaking as the last bit of strength ebbed out of his forearms. “You can do this Dean. You’re stronger than the thing inside you.” You have to be!62

Sam’s caught Dean’s quick hitch of breath as the hand holding the knife began to tremble. “Fight it Dean! Push it down!” Sam pleaded.63

The tremor in Dean’s hand increased, moving up his arm to his shoulder then enveloping his entire upper body. His black eyes never fluttered but Sam could detect the inner struggle taking place.64

“That’s it!” he encouraged, “Keep fighting.” Please, I can’t lose you!65

Dean’s body began to shake uncontrollably, every muscle twitching spastically as his hand dropped the huge blade to the carpet. Limply, he fell backwards, arms wrapping around his chest as he continued the internal battle.66

Sam’s arms fell heavily to his sides as he slowly let out the breath that he’d been unconsciously holding during the struggle. He sat there, his mind still stunned by what had happened, the adrenaline rush draining from him.67

“NO!” The scream from his brother grabbed Sam’s attention and he scrambled over to Dean’s side. Tossing the discarded knife across the floor just to be safe, Sam pulled his brother to a seated position as Dean continued to rock back and forth in obvious pain.68

His rhythmic movement continued for several minutes more before Dean’s hazel eyes flew open and he found himself staring up into the concerned face of his brother. In that instant, there was no place for Dean to hide, no way to mask the pain, confusion and guilt that was being broadcast across his face and was present in the in the slump of his shoulders.69

Forced to look at Sam’s eyes, Dean absorbed the concern and the fear present there. He absorbed it until he couldn’t bear it anymore, until the only thing he could think about was escaping the shame and condemnation that had begun to eat at his soul. Shrugging off Sam’s arm, Dean pushed himself up off the floor and literally bolted like a scared animal into the bathroom.70

Sam remained sitting there, hearing the door lock immediately after it slammed shut. He debated his next action. He couldn’t blame Dean for what had happened; the situation didn’t demand assertion of blame. Still, in the back of his mind, this had been inevitable. How could they all have been so gullible to think that amulet would have kept Dean safe or that Dean could have held out as long as he had? After all, it was only logical that Haris’ spawn would have continued its parent’s game-plan in pursuing Sam. What better way than to use his own brother to get him?71

“Dammit,” Sam grumbled. “What the hell am I thinking? This isn’t about me, not right now.”72

His long legs pushed off from the avocado green carpet and he quickly covered the short distance to the bathroom in three long strides. Hovering by the jamb, Sam carefully listened for any sounds coming from behind the locked door.73

The silence that emanated was deafening and Sam became even more concerned when he didn’t hear even the barest sound of his brother moving about the small space.74

“Dean?” he called out quietly, a single tap of his knuckles on the door. “Dean, are you alright?”75

“Go away Sam!” The reply came as a whisper and Sam was certain he could detect a hint of quiver to his brother’s voice.76

In his mind’s eye, Sam could picture Dean sitting on the cold tile of the floor, back against the wall, arms wrapped around his knees, as he mentally beat himself up over what had just happened. Sam knew his brother well enough to feel certain that no other single act could shake Dean as much as the thought that he might have hurt his younger sibling.77

“Dean, I’m okay. Do you hear me? I’m alright and you’re alright now too!” Sam stressed, hoping the words would bring some comfort.78

“GO AWAY!” Dean shouted. After a short pause he softly added, “Please Sam, just give me some time, okay?”79

“Alright,” Sam reluctantly agreed, as he heard the water in the shower begin to fall. Knowing that his brother was going to hide out for a while longer as he attempted to wash away all of the evidence of emotion before reappearing, Sam decided to get some coffee. No way either of them was going back to sleep anytime soon and in light of what had happened, he felt compelled to spend the remainder of the night surfing for some sort of help for Dean.80

Pulling on his jeans and shirt from earlier, Sam quickly donned his boots and jacket and stepped outside. As he headed toward the Impala, keys jingling in his hand, a scuffle of noise over his shoulder startled Sam.81

Drawing the Glock from the interior pocket of the Carhart, Sam moved carefully in the direction of the sound. As he rounded the edge of the motel, the gun flew up instinctively as Sam nearly ran head first into the night clerk. The barrel of the handgun mere inches from his face, the young man’s eyes widened in fear as his arms flew skyward in submission.82

Sam immediately lowered the weapon, instantly sorry for scaring the crap out of the innocent man. He quickly stammered out an apology and was about to turn back toward the car when the man’s eyes suddenly swirled yellow.83

“Gonna shoot an old friend eh’ Sammy?” It was the young man’s voice, but no mistaking that the tone was pure demon.84

“Haris!” Sam exclaimed, his hand holding the weapon swinging back up.85

“Please. Put that down. Not like it would do you any good and besides, I’ve just come to talk to you, nothing more.”86

“What could you possibly have to say that I give a damn about?” Sam replied, his voice filled with hate and suspicion.87

“Oh Sammy, there’s so many topics that we could discuss, but how 'bout we start with the little wrestling exhibition you and your brother put on in there tonight?” the demon suggested snidely.88

“Get to the point, what do you want? Come to admire your handiwork?” Sam snapped back.89

Haris/clerk sighed deeply before replying. “I’ve come to offer you the deal of a lifetime, Sam, one that you cannot afford to pass up.”90

“A deal? With you? Do I look that stupid?” Sam asked incredulously.91

“No Sam, you look THAT desperate. How long do you think its going to be before that amulet doesn’t protect Dean at all? Before that little episode tonight becomes a daily occurrence?”92

When Sam didn’t respond, Haris continued. “He’s losing control Sam. Each and every day that passes, my child is growing stronger in him. Each and every time that Dean uses the power inside him, he gives over that much more control. You know this, you’ve seen it.”93

“Tonight was …” Sam began then halted. What had tonight been other than the obvious? What excuse could Sam offer to Haris that could possibly justify what had happened between the brothers?94

“Sam, this has never been about your brother, but before long, it will be the end of him, one way or another. Sooner or later, he’ll either submit to my child or worse yet, what happens when Dean is mortally injured?” Haris suggested as if he had somehow tapped into Sam’s brain and read the worse fears that had been festering there. “You know that Dean will never stand by and watch you get hurt. He’s spent the better part of his life throwing himself in harm's way just so his baby brother would be safe. Do you think for a minute that he’s gonna stop that any time soon?”95

Sam stared blankly at the clerk’s yellow eyes. The face might have seemed innocent, but the words were all demon and they cut into him like sharp daggers made of ice. There was no denying that the spoken words reflected everything that Sam had already thought about, but that didn’t lessen their impact.96

“How much more does big brother have to sacrifice for his family? For you, Sam? When will enough ever be enough? When he’s dead or when he belongs to me forever?” Haris questioned.97

Sam remained sullen and silent, absorbing the words and knowing that they weren’t threats but actual facts. Demons might lie, but in this case, Haris spoke the truth.98

“So what do you want?” Sam finally asked.99

The clerk smiled, yellow eyes dancing with excitement. “What I’ve always wanted Sam, you! You and your gifts in exchange for your brother back; whole, free of my child forever. It’s a pretty fair deal to be honest. You never wanted any of this and Dean never should have had to pay for his family’s transgressions, never had to suffer to keep you safe from what’s inevitable.”100

“How can I trust you?”101

“You can’t, but what choice do you have Sam?”102

The young man stood there in the cool night breeze contemplating what he was hearing. Dean never should have had to pay for his family’s transgressions, never had to suffer to keep you safe from what’s inevitable. Inevitable? The word hung in Sam’s head, sticking to his subconscious like Velcro. If it was true, then why should Dean suffer for no reason? Hadn’t he already sacrificed enough? What had Sam ever done that could begin to repay his older brother for all the years of care he had provided and blood that Dean had shed for him?103

Still, this was Haris, a demon, not to be trusted. Right?104

Sensing the young hunter’s reluctance, the demon pulled closer. “The clock’s ticking Sam. The offer will expire and in the end I will have both of you. Think about it. You can both be free of me forever and Dean will be safe. You have my word!”105

Before Sam could reply, the clerk suddenly dropped to the ground, a scream tearing from his throat as the thick black mist shot from his mouth like a whirlwind and vanished into the surrounding darkness.106

Sam waited a minute longer, checked on the now recovering clerk then silently returned to the motel room where the sound of the water falling from the shower could still be heard from behind the closed bathroom door.107

* * * *108

Motel – Next Morning109

How long they both lay in the darkness of the room, both awake, morning light leaking around the edges of the cheap motel curtains, neither knew. Both afraid to acknowledge their own consciousness because that meant they had to face each other, look each other in the eyes and remember the events of the night.110

Dean had emerged from the bathroom long after Sam had returned to the room, slipped silently under the covers of his bed and turned to face the wall, his only response to Sam’s intake of breath before speaking, a hoarsely whispered, “Don’t.”111

Sleep had finally claimed Sam despite the thoughts wreaking havoc in his mind, racing through corridors of hope only to blunder into dead ends like rats in a maze. He came awake more exhausted than he’d gone to bed, the twinges and aches in his body from their encounter in the basement and his later scuffle with…Dean…making their presence known.112

Just as he thought he could lay there no longer, there was a sudden rush of movement from Dean’s bed as his older brother rolled to his feet and disappeared into the bathroom without a word. Sighing, Sam hauled himself upright, biting back a groan at the pull from the gashes in his shoulder.113

He glanced up as the bathroom door opened and Dean stepped out, pausing, swallowing hard, his eyes flicking once over Sam and then sinking to the floor.114

“You okay, Sam?” he asked softly.115

Sam stared at him, more to the point, at the place on his forehead that yesterday evening had displayed a large, swollen, bloody bruise, evidence of the bat wielded with great accuracy at Dean’s head, and where now there was nothing as a reminder but smooth unmarked skin.116

Sam’s heart sped up as his eyes dropped to the amulet hanging from Dean’s neck, its horned features blacker than coal against Dean’s chest. Whatever its ability to help Dean keep the demon within him at bay, its power was obviously weakening, as evidenced by last night’s loss of control.117

“The clock’s ticking Sam. The offer will expire and in the end I will have both of you. Think about it. You can both be free of me forever and Dean will be safe. You have my word!” The clerk smiled, yellow eyes dancing with excitement.118

“How can I trust you?”119

“You can’t, but what choice do you have Sam?”120

“Sam?” Dean asked again, more sharply, eyes on him this time.121

“I’m fine, Dean. Really. You…you didn’t hurt me.” Sam tried to put conviction in his voice that he wasn’t afraid; a nonchalance that would make it clear what had happened a few hours ago was nothing. Hardly worth mentioning.122

What choice did he have…?123

Sam got up and took Dean’s place in the bathroom, showering and changing clothes. When he emerged a short time later, Dean was sitting quietly on the bed staring at the floor, hands clasped between his knees. An inadvertent "good boy" posture.124

He looked up as Sam came back in the room. “So, I thought we should maybe go back and talk to a few people before we go back out there,” he began as though picking up the thread of an ongoing conversation.125

Sam stopped dead, mind skidding and stared at him. “Huh?”126

“We need to know more about that house, the people who lived there. Maybe that old guy at the gas station knows more about it. I think we should talk to him again.”127

Dean’s look was so earnest Sam couldn’t help but nod. “Sure, just…let me finish getting dressed and we can go.” The relief in Dean’s face was painful to see and Sam busied himself struggling into a t-shirt to get away from it.128

* * * *129

“Yeah, I remember the McGregors,” Mr. Siddons, (just call me Sid!) smacked his lips over the gaps in his teeth and sucked reflectively on the two remaining front ones as he talked.130

Watching him, Dean felt slightly ill and looked away.131

“They was nice enough. Little odd, but I guess that’s just the way of them arty people.” Sid, seated in a broken down dining room chair rocked against the cane gripped in both hands.132

“Arty?” Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.133

“Yeah! The woman, she was some kind of artist. Strange stuff, but she sold some of her paintin’s at some of the shops back then. Tourists bought ‘em. Husband was a writer, so he said. Don’t know what kinda stuff he wrote. Always seemed upset about stuff. Real nervous sort.” Sid snorted. “Especially after the wife got pregnant. Treated her like she’d break if he bumped her too hard. Doted on her he did.”134

“What happened to them?” Sam glanced at Dean who was staring over Sid’s ball capped head. “The house looks like it was deserted.”135

Sid scratched vigorously and readjusted something at his waist. “They hardly ever come to town after that. Then mostly just him for food and such.”136

Dean frowned. ”What about the baby?”137

Sid shrugged. “Heard it died at birth. Really tore the woman up, became a recluse.” He leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, “Heard she went nuts afterwards, so rumor has it. Husband had to keep her locked up.” He looked around. “I know no one ever saw her after that. Later on the sheriff was called out there, heard the wife had committed suicide.”138

Sam and Dean exchanged grimaces.139

Sid leaned back and had a good long suck before he spoke again. “Guy showed up one morning with the car loaded up, filled it with gas and drove off. Just abandoned the house and everything in it. Was months before we realized. Never sold it, just left it to rot.” Sid gazed up at them with the satisfied air of one who has told a story well and awaits his audience’s reaction.140

Dean turned on his heel and went back to the car.141

Sam stared after him and then turned back to Sid, proffering a bill. “Thanks,” he said. “We appreciate the information.”142

Sid made a face and waved the money away. “Boy, don’t you know you don’t have to pay an old man to talk?” He made a disgusted noise and shook his head.143

Sam grinned at him. “Thanks again, then.” He pocketed the money and followed after Dean who was leaning on the top of the Impala.144

“Sam, something weird is going on around here,” he said, obviously agitated.145

“I know,” Sam replied, opening his side of the car. “We need to go back out to the house.” Sam got into the car.146

Dean’s mouth tightened into a thin line and he blew out a breath before sliding under the wheel. Gravel sprayed as he gunned the big car out of the gas station and back toward the McGregor house.147

* * * *148

McGregor House149

They reached the abandoned house a short time later, the trip out from Pemberton traveled in nearly complete silence. Dean couldn’t stop the never-ending replay of last night from screaming through his head. Worse still, Sam was trying to pretend like everything was normal, emphasis on "trying". "Love ya lil’ brother, but you’re a crappy actor."150

The house remained much the same as it had been the day before, the smells still as pungent, the warped floor boards still groaning under their weight. Dean immediately pulled his .45 upon entering the front living room. He paused, lifting a hand to signal Sam to stop, while he listened intently for any indication of their baseball-loving attacker.151

When his ears picked up nothing more than the mid-morning breeze or the normal sounds of the decrepit house, Dean lowered both his hand and his weapon. Even still, he chose not to replace the gun into his waistband as he trailed behind Sam through the first floor.152

A ten minute search of the main level revealed nothing beyond the previous day’s finds, so Sam began the climb up the open staircase to the second floor with Dean closely behind him. From the top of the stairs, Sam could see that the upper story consisted of three bedrooms and a solitary bath extending off a single hall. The brothers split up, Sam going into the first bedroom to the right and Dean heading to the left.153

Upon entering the room, Sam could instantly tell that the space had been used for something other than a place to sleep. Pieces of untouched canvas rested against a wall, a painter’s easel lay collapsed on the floor. He realized that this must have been the woman’s studio and as the morning sunlight blazoned through the broken glass, he understood why. The view out into the woods was beautiful, the multihued greens of the tree tops blending seamlessly into the azure of the sky.154

As he moved about the room, Sam turned his investigation to include the closet. Within the small, dark confines, he spotted several yellowed canvases tucked carefully into the recesses. He pulled them out as a group, simultaneously shouting for Dean to join him.155

With Dean just behind his shoulder, Sam knelt down on the floor and began leafing through the first several paintings. The subject matter was consistently the same; the shape of a little boy, one with a small, brown teddy bear held protectively in its arms, another of a child perched on the lap of a young woman, still others of a toddler holding a blue blanket. Each of the paintings seemed abstract, unfinished, the facial features of the child purposely left void.156

Dean snorted derisively, breaking the silence. “Weird,” he muttered. “No wonder they call them starving artists, who the hell buys something like that?”157

“I dunno Dean. These have to belong to Elaine McGregor, but why would she paint the pictures that way?” Sam queried, gently laying the prints back onto the floor.158

“Well, if the baby was stillborn, maybe she just went nuts dude? Maybe she was just painting what she wished was there. Who knows?”159

“Yeah, maybe,” Sam responded unconvinced, something suspicious about the paintings tickled the back of his mind, but he couldn’t seem to pin it down.160

“There’s nothing else up here, lets go check out that basement again,” Dean suggested as he quickly turned for the door.161

* * * *162

Dean reached the doorway to the basement first and was intently examining the casing when Sam caught up to him. As his brother pulled away, Sam could see the remnants of a lock hasp attached to the door. Dean held up a rusted padlock, tossing it repeatedly into the air, his eyebrows rose questioningly.163

“What do ya think this was for?” he asked, but Sam shrugged, the thoughts going through his mind becoming dark and ugly as he considered the find.164

The door creaked eerily as Dean pulled it open, a dim amount of light seeping up the stairwell from the basement door that had been left open the day before. With the .45 in hand again, the elder Winchester led the way cautiously down the stairs.165

As his boots struck the bottom step, the repugnant odor assailed Dean’s nostrils once more. His free hand went to his nose as the smell of rotting meat filled it. Behind him, Sam groaned as well, as he swallowed hard against the breakfast that was threatening to make a return appearance.166

Now in the sunlit basement, the brothers could see the source of the disgusting odor. Like the feeding ground they found in the forest yesterday, the collection of dead animals here in the basement was in various stages of rotting, some obviously fresh and maggot-infested while others were cleaned to the bone. The sheer number of carcasses indicated that the creature had been bringing its kills to the basement for several years.167

Moving past the scattered piles of decay, Dean carefully ventured over into a darker corner of the cellar. What he stumbled upon next brought an immediate growl of disgust and Sam rushed to see what his brother had found. In the far corner, half tucked underneath the stairs, a large metal dog kennel sat silently empty.168

“What the hell is that?” Dean asked, pointing at the object lying at the bottom of the dog crate, his face curled in disgust. “Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is!”169

Sam stooped down and lifted the fabric from the floor of the kennel. Soiled and tattered, there was no mistaking what the object was or rather had once been.170

“It’s a baby blanket, Dean,” Sam stated, the suspicions of earlier popping back into his mind.171

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Dean threw back sarcastically as he pushed aside another object in the cage with the muzzle of the pistol. Underneath the remnants of yellowed newspaper that had lined the bottom of the cage, several more toys were revealed.172

“Dean, the McGregor’s baby wasn’t stillborn,” Sam said, his face scrunching in revulsion as he realized that the cage had not been used to contain an animal.173

The older Winchester looked over to his brother, his own brain trying to wrap itself around the physical evidence and deciding that it was too sick for even his jaded psyche to comprehend.174

“This is just wrong Sammy. Who does this to a kid?” he asked, imploring his brother to help him make some sense of it. “I mean, our childhoods were screwed, but this…" he paused, his head shaking. “This is just a whole other level of sick.”175

“I think the paintings are the key Dean. They aren’t unfinished; Elaine McGregor just couldn’t bear to paint her little boy. There must have been something wrong with him when he was born.”176

Dean rose to his feet, slamming the cage door shut with as much anger and disgust as he could muster. He watched as Sam reverently laid the blue blanket back on top the kennel.177

“Dean, I think you’ve been right all along,” Sam admitted finally.178

“I have?” Dean asked surprised. “About what?”179

“I don’t think our creature is the Jersey Devil. I think it’s the …"180

Sam’s words were muffled as a loud, angry screech sounded from behind them. Both hunters whirled around, eyes seeking the source. In the dimness of the cellar, Sam could not make out the details of the shape that hovered several feet away, but Dean’s vision immediately, unconsciously, switched into demon-mode.181

He saw the thing just briefly as it growled at the intruders once more then quickly spun and bolted out of the cellar door. Pushing around his brother, Dean charged after it into the back yard, following the blur towards the woods.182

Sam took off after his brother, but despite his long legs, Dean had a head-start and was tearing through the forest in pursuit of the creature. Sam could hear the dry snap of twigs as both the creature and his brother ripped through the thick underbrush. He sped on behind them, stray branches reaching out to snag at his clothing, biting into exposed skin. As he vaulted over a fallen tree trunk, Sam spotted the flash of Dean’s dark blue jacket several yards up ahead.183

Breathing heavily, he finally caught up to Dean who had stopped and was cautiously peeking from out around a large pine.184

“What is it? Where?” Sam asked in between gulps of air. Quietly, Dean lifted his hand, one finger pointing off into the distance ahead of them while the index of his other hand was lifted to his lips in a familiar gesture of silence. Sam noticed in that moment that Dean’s .45 had been tucked away, no longer visible in his brother’s hand.185

As he focused into the distance, he immediately understood why. The creature, by poor definition, was trapped against a sharp hillside; it’s only escape to return back the way it had run and into its pursuers. Sam watched as it frantically tried to scramble up the muddy slope, its deformed appendages not equipped for such a task. Exhausted, the creature turned back toward the hunters. Panting heavily, it pushed its back against the hill and began to snarl.186

It spine was so deformed that the creature listed forward at a contorted angle, its arms reaching out defensively, claw-like fingernails slashing pathetically at the air as it attempted to look threatening. Covered in layers of dried mud, long matted hair clung to its naked frame, partially obscuring its face. As it continued to thrash about, the hair flew away briefly and both Sam and Dean simultaneously inhaled sharply.187

The creature’s misshapen head revealed a twisted mouth with long teeth that looked like they belonged to a predator. Ears hung low on either side of the skull and the thing’s nose was more snout than anything else. But as the brothers continued to look, it was the creature’s eyes that caught their attention. Sky blue, as crystal clear as any that ever graced a human face; eyes that showed fear and implored mercy at the same time.188

“Dean," Sam gasped, the stark reality sinking in. “It’s a just a kid!” 189

***190

The Pine Barrens191

It watched the backyard as it had been doing for some time, curiosity blending with boredom and driving it closer to the edge of the woods than it usually dared. It was a sunny summer day, the earth warmed by a week’s worth of heat and humidity, and the occupants of the house had ventured outside the familiar confines.192

As it watched intently from the safety of the dense cover, the female gently spread a blanket on the ground and placed a small one carefully on the center of it. She sat down beside the squealing bundle and began to shake a small object in front of it. The female smiled at the little one, her face glowing as she played with her offspring.193

The creature watched a little longer before hunger beckoned it away.194

It returned occasionally as the years passed, watching as the female led the offspring out into the sanctuary of the yard. The small one had grown, but moved about in play as though its body had not been designed for normal movement. As always, the female watched, her smiles always encouraging, her presence ever ready to assist.195

Some time later, the creature happened by the forest edge. The yard was overgrown, the house as well beginning to show signs of neglect.196

It heard the offspring as it played, adapting to its physical limitations, the small one ambling around the yard chasing a yellow ball. Oblivious to its surroundings, the offspring seemed content in its game until the door to the structure swung open with a loud crash. The male stormed out of the house, bellowing at the offspring as it cowered in fear. The male reached the offspring and grabbed it ferociously around its arm, dragging it back towards the confines of the building as the small one cried out in pain.197

Even after both humans disappeared into the house, the creature could still hear the cries of the small one as the commotion continued and the male still shouted. Eventually, the cries gave way to sobs and the creature watched for a long time after silence returned to the dwelling.198

After that, the offspring was never outside, not even on the warmest days. More years passed and the creature sporadically ventured close again. The sounds of violence, of harsh words incomprehensible to the creature, emanated from the house. As the creature listened, all too often it was followed by the softer cries and whimpers of the offspring coming from the basement of the structure.199

Days and then weeks pass and only the sounds of the offspring are heard. The creature watched and waited, carefully considering its action until one night, in the cover of the moonless dark, it tore its way into the building.200

With acute night vision, the creature could see the offspring cowering behind the wire confines of a pen. It moved cautiously towards the human, not entirely sure why it was risking its own survival after all these years.201

It pulled open the cage door with an effortless yank, then stepped back as the offspring cried out in fear. Moving slowly toward the door, it waited to see if the offspring would follow. Slowly, the small one struggled to follow but its deformed feet and starvation-induced weakness dropped it to the ground. Turning back, the creature stooped over and gathered the offspring into the soft folds of its leathered wings.202

Tucked safely into the embrace of the Jersey Devil, Elaine McGregor’s son knew the warmth of a compassionate touch for the first time in years as he was carried out into the darkness of the Pine Barrens.203

* * * *204

Back to the Present205

Sam and Dean stood in open mouthed disbelief as the “kid” pressed further back against the hillside, cowering, yes, but more like a cornered rat than a frightened child.206

Wide blue eyes peered through a tangled mass of golden brown ropes that obscured most of his features and hung halfway down his thin chest. Jagged, uneven teeth, like a jumble of jackstraws were visible in the twisted mouth as the boy cawed at them, making noises that were obviously intended to be threatening, jumping back and forth to swipe the air between them with hands that had fingers fused together into misshapen claws ending in long curved nails.207

He stayed hunched to one side and as he turned to scrabble once again at the unyielding rock behind him, Sam could see the cruel curve of his spine that produced a hump at his left shoulder and kept him from ever standing straight. Ragged shorts hung precariously around his narrow hips, and even though his visible skin was crisscrossed with old scars and new scrapes he was surprisingly clean. His right foot terminated in a slightly twisted form that only vaguely resembled a foot, but knowing how swiftly the boy could move, apparently it did little to hamper his movements.208

Sam’s heart twisted and he felt physically ill. Not at the pathetic child before him but at the circumstance that had thrown this innocent into such a life.209

“God, Dean…” he choked. “We need to help this kid.”210

Dean stared at him and then back at the chattering boy. ”I’m with you in spirit, dude, but how do you suggest we do that? He doesn’t seem real receptive right now.” Even as he spoke though, he was moving closer to the kid, crouching down slightly and extending a hand.211

“It’s okay,” he said as softly as he could and still be heard over the incessant noise. “We won’t hurt you…” He doubted that the words themselves mattered as much as the tone in which they were spoken. Each step closer he came, the boy pressed further back into the rock face.212

Dean could feel Sam moving up behind him. “Stop, man,” he snapped. “It’s too much.”213

He went down on one knee and fumbled in his jacket pocket, coming up with a slightly melted candy bar which he carefully peeled from the wrapper and held out.214

The boy instantly stopped keening and cocked his head, sniffing audibly, watching Dean’s hand suspiciously.215

Dean wagged the candy bar back and forth. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “It’s good…” he took a small bite and chewed it with exaggerated pleasure, holding it back out. “Mmmmm,” he said, watching as the boy crept forward, hand preceding him. Dean grimaced at the sight of the fused fingers as they extended toward him. Just as they closed clumsily on the candy, Dean’s other hand clamped on the boy’s wrist.216

At that point all hell broke loose.217

Shrill screaming filled the clearing, making their eardrums ring. Dean tried to get the kid in a stronger hold, Sam rushing to help him.218

“For God’s sake shut him up!!!” Dean yelled, trying to hold the pin wheeling arms and legs of the kid as he threw himself about wildly trying to break Dean’s hold and effectively keeping Sam at bay.219

Dean howled as broken teeth sank into his forearm. “Son of a bitch!!!”220

All three froze as a screech unlike anything they had ever heard came from overhead and a large, dark form hurtled out of the trees above them striking the three and sending them all sprawling.221

The boy scrambled into the underbrush on his hands and knees, peering out from the foliage as the new player in the game knocked Dean aside as he struggled to his feet, throwing him into the rocky outcropping.222

Sam barely registered what had hit them as it turned from Dean’s slumped body and swooped down on him again, a flurry of wide leathery wings, fur and teeth in a long horse-like face. He rolled frantically, feeling claws re-split the skin of his barely healing shoulder, the warmth of blood soaking his shirt instantly. The unearthly shrieking went on and on as the creature attacked relentlessly, making it impossible for Sam to do more than try to protect his face and midsection as talons ripped at him and the heavy wings battered him back and forth. He was dimly aware of Dean staggering upright only to be knocked aside once again by the leathery appendages of the beast.223

Dean fell back, head ringing. The wings slashing through the air over Sam’s writhing body made it impossible for Dean to get to him. Watching in impotent horror as the creature slashed repeatedly at Sam, blood blossoming on his brother’s shirt, Dean felt fury overwhelm him ---224

I’m here, use me! We can save him!225

--- and with that came a surge of power that felt so right, so necessary, that he embraced it wholeheartedly without thought, welcoming it ... wanting it ...226

Eyes midnight black, he launched himself at the creature with a scream of primal anger, his sudden speed allowing him to get under the sweeping wings and slam into it’s body knocking it away from Sam.227

They rolled across the clearing kicking and clawing, enveloped in the cocoon of wings that had wrapped around them both.228

Sam dragged himself back out of the way, aching and clawed bloody. He had no weapon and could only watch as Dean and the Jersey Devil came at each other. His heart clutched as he got a good look at Dean’s face and saw the obsidian of his eyes.229

No God, Dean, No!230

Insane and out of control by now, powered by a strength not even close to human, Dean was more than a match for the rapidly weakening creature and from his actions it was obvious he fully intended to kill it.231

There was a loud snap as one of the creature’s wings was broken and it fell back to the ground with an agonized cry, to lie there with the uninjured wing flopping against the ground.232

Dean stood over it, chest heaving, hands fisted, a sadistic smile playing at his lips as he studied his prey. Slowly he reached down and withdrew a blade from his boot sheath and crept forward to kneel on the wing membranes that grew from the creatures sides, effectively holding it down.233

Its own chest rising and falling, it watched him with dark, liquid eyes, its head slightly to one side, blood matting the soft light gray fur that covered it. The creature lifted an appendage slightly but let it thump back to the ground, its strength gone.234

Dean’s smile widened as he raised his blade. The eyes staring at him softened and then the long equine head rolled to the side where the boy crouched in the underbrush, a soft, burbling noise coming from its throat.235

Sam was shocked to hear an answering sound from the boy.236

Before he could move, the boy suddenly burst from his hiding place and threw himself at Dean, doing his best to stay the arm holding the blade, jabbering incoherently. Dean shoved him away with a hoarse growl but the boy immediately returned, this time throwing himself across the creature's chest, hands clasping around its neck repeating one desperate word over and over.237

“Nononononononono!”238

Sam saw the blade rise again and struggled to get to his feet. “Dean, no!!!”239

The knife halted halfway home as the creature’s good wing folded over the boy’s body protectively, the soft crooning continuing as the dark eyes stared into Dean’s.240

From his vantage point, Sam watched as his brother’s blade-wielding right arm began to tremble, starting as the slightest tremor to build into a full-on body engulfing spasm. The knife fell to the ground as Dean fell to his knees, hands clutched to his head, groaning deeply as he struggled with himself.241

Taking swift advantage of the moment, the Jersey Devil pulled itself away from Dean, dragging itself and the boy as far as it could before what little strength it had left gave out. It crouched over the child, watching Dean with fearful eyes.242

After a long moment Dean fell back to the ground, just to lie there, his chest heaving, jagged respirations breaking what, otherwise, was silence. Sam stayed where he was watching until Dean finally pushed to his feet. Blood trickled down his face and he was scratched but otherwise not worse for wear. He glanced over at the Devil and its charge, his look causing it to pull back again, wing closing more tightly over the boy in a gesture of protection.243

Dean turned and moved toward Sam, extending a hand.244

Sam couldn’t help and would forever regret the flinch as Dean reached for him. Tired hazel eyes reflecting a wound deeper than any the Devil might have inflicted. Dean’s mouth tightened and he swallowed, stretching his hand back out, inadvertently having pulled it back at Sam’s reaction.245

“You okay?”246

Sam grabbed Dean’s hand and struggled to his feet. “I’ll live. It’s not as bad as it looks.” He cast Dean a sideways look. “Are you all right?”247

Dean scrubbed his face. “No,” he answered tersely, his eyes studying the cowering creature and boy just a few yards away.248

Sam gestured at the Devil. “What are we gonna do about the kid? We can’t just leave him with that thing.”249

Dean sighed. “Why not?” he finally said, turning to look Sam straight in the eye.250

Sam stared at him. “Why not? Dean he’s human, he needs help, to be with his own kind!”251

Dean looked back at the creature, hovering over the boy, making soft noises at each other. His experience with such things was limited but even he recognized the sounds for what they were. Sounds of comfort. Sounds of love.252

“Sam, look at that kid, all he’s ever gonna be is a freak. If we take him back, what’s he gonna have waiting for him? An institution? People who take care of him because they have to, not because they give a damn.”253

“Dean…”254

Dean rubbed his eyes, drawing a deep breath. “Sam, I don’t know what that kid’s life was like, what it’s been like. But we do know that his bastard father drove off and left him to die. For whatever reason, that …thing…took him in. Protected him. Maybe loves him, or as close to it as it can come. It’s all that kid knows, all he has. We can’t take that away from him.”255

He slowly walked over to where his knife lay and retrieved it, holding out his hand placatingly as the Devil hissed and pulled itself and the boy further away.256

Sam gaped at him, unable to believe Dean was willing to walk out of here and leave a child in the hands of such a creature.257

Dean watched him for a moment, reading his thoughts as clearly as if he had heard them. “Sam, it’s not evil. I don’t care how it looks, what it’s done.” He shrugged. “Maybe just because the action seems evil doesn’t mean the intentions behind it weren’t good.”258

Sam’s mind played a quick rewind of Dean fighting the creature to save Sam, black eyed, insane with power, willing to do anything to protect him. A good intention backed with an evil action.259

He dropped his eyes to the ground, then back to the Devil and her child as they clutched each other in want and need. He nodded reluctantly, grimacing as the gashes in his shoulder throbbed.260

“Let’s go,” he said softly.261

* * * *262

Motel – Later That Evening263

Sam toweled the remaining water from his shaggy hair as he limped painfully from the steamy bathroom. Dean was waiting, perched on the edge of the bed with their first aid kit in hand. He glanced up as the squeak of the door’s hinge signaled Sam’s entrance, taking in the patchwork quilt of bruises across his brother’s upper body as well as the strained gait.264

He waited until Sam slid into the vinyl chair before rising and moving over to him. With the skill of a surgeon, he began to clean and prep the small laceration on Sam’s left shoulder, mindful of his brother’s quick intake of air as his fingers touched the wound.265

Dean continued on, the needle in his hand carefully weaving in and out of the tissue as he pulled the jagged edges together. He could tell that Sam was enduring the pain, teeth clenched together to prevent any sound from escaping.266

Dean relished the silence of the moment, knowing full well that Sam was just dying to break into a discussion about what had happened out in the woods today. If he could only finish suturing, maybe he could then quickly escape to the sanctuary of the bathroom before Sam had the chance to badger him.267

“So, we did the right thing? Right, Dean?” Sam asked as his brother visibly cringed. So much for the quick escape! “I mean, leaving that kid out there, that was the right thing to do?”268

Dean tried to ignore the question as he knotted the final stitch, purposely pulling hard enough to cause Sam to groan loudly. Regretting it immediately, he softly apologized.269

“So, are you deaf or just ignoring me?” Sam queried looking back over his shoulder at Dean and sucking in another breath as his brother finished his repairs by taping down a bandage over his handiwork.270

Dean sighed audibly, moving away as he gathered up the remainder of the supplies. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to consider the right or wrong of the decision, the good or evil of the Devil. Or the good and evil inside himself. Mostly, Dean wanted a shower, as hot a one as he could stand, followed by a bottle of whiskey: anything that could banish the bone-numbing chill that had gripped him for days.271

Looking back at Sam, he knew he wasn’t going to get any of that, not right at the moment at least. Sam was a talker and he wanted to talk right now. Dean knew that he might as well get it over with.272

“Sam, I don’t know what you want to hear from me. Should we have left the kid out there in the wild? Yes, no, maybe? He’s been surviving this long, so he’s obviously adapted.”273

“But Dean, to leave him with that …” Sam’s voice trailed off as he shook his head, but Dean reacted to the unfinished sentence.274

“What Sam? You were gonna say to leave the boy with the monster, something so innocent with something so evil, right?” Dean demanded, his face suddenly taut as he challenged his brother. “I mean, after all, how can something so inherently evil possibly have any redeeming qualities? Or were you thinking that maybe good will eventually get turned to evil if it hangs out with it long enough?”275

Sam caught the twist to the conversation and he also didn’t miss that as Dean tinkered with his belongings he swiftly tossed his sheathed Bowie into his duffle instead of under his pillow as was the norm.276

"Dean,” Sam began calmly, "that’s not what I meant. I get that the Devil has been taking care of the boy, probably better than the kid’s own dad ever did. I’m just saying that shouldn’t we have brought him back, to civilization, to where he could get some help?”277

“Help? Sure, bring him back to where people can laugh at him, point fingers at him, hell, maybe even put him in some sort of freak show. I’m sure that’d be just a ton of help for him, Sam!” Dean shouted back, accenting his derision by slamming clean clothes down on the bed. “Might as well put a bullet in his head and save the poor kid the pain of people treating him like he’s an animal.” he added under his breath.278

Sam rose from the chair, unable to bite back the words that had been threatening for the past couple days.279

“Let’s cut to the chase Dean. What are we really talking about here? That kid or you?”280

“Hey, you started this conversation …” Dean began, but Sam moved right up in his face, uncomfortably close and intentionally barring his brother from any escape.281

“Yeah, I started it and I’m gonna continue it. So let me begin by making this perfectly clear, I DO NOT think you’re evil. I don’t blame you for what’s happened to you. But Dean,” he paused, running a nervous hand through the still-damp hair on his head. “I know what you’ve been doing. I know that you’ve been tapping into the demon’s power. And it scares me Dean”282

“Dude, that thing was killing you, I didn’t have a choice!”283

“I’m not talking about just today Dean. I know that you think that you’re doing it for all the right reasons, but every time you do, I think you give over a little bit of control, a little bit of yourself.”284

“Sam …”285

“No Dean, I can see it, I can tell how hard it was for you to push it back down the last time, not to mention last night,” Sam continued, instantly regretting bringing up his brother’s attack on him as he saw the haunted agony glaze over Dean’s face.286

Dean eyes, painfully hazel, flashed up at his brother. No amount of alcohol was ever going to erase the memory of last night, not if he lived to be a hundred and took up residence in Lynchburg, Tennessee.287

Unable to hide the shame a minute longer, knowing that to stand there one second more was going to make him break apart into pieces that he might not ever be able to reassemble, he resorted to the time tested and true tactic of avoidance. Peeling off his t-shirt and tossing it angrily on the bed, he snatched up the clean jeans and boxers and pushed roughly past Sam towards the bathroom. He could hear, but chose to ignore, Sam’s plea for forgiveness as he closed the door and turned the lock.288

Sam watched his brother’s hasty retreat, tried to call him back even though he knew that it wouldn’t happen. But even as Dean walked away, Sam couldn’t help but notice that his brother’s upper body was now unmarred despite the physical beating he had suffered earlier in the afternoon. There should have been bruises, claw marks like the ones that covered Sam’s own body, but instead, only smooth, tanned skin, lined with the white-raised scars of past hunts.289

“You know that Dean will never stand by and watch you get hurt. Sooner or later, he’ll either submit to my child or worse yet, what happens when Dean is mortally injured?”290

Sam moved to his own bed and yanked on a clean t-shirt. He tied his boots in a huff and pulled on a long-sleeved flannel. Rising, he listened as the water continued to cascade from the shower and having made up his mind, he walked out of the room and into the waiting darkness.291

Once outside, Sam silently chastised himself for coming out unarmed, but then considering what he was about to do, weapons wouldn’t really matter. He moved to the edge of the building, not entirely sure how he was going to make contact with the demon, never having needed to summon one before. Clearing the corner, he was surprised to see the night clerk waiting there, casually propped against the brick of the building.292

“Haris?” Sam questioned.293

The clerk’s eyes closed slowly, opening to reveal the tell-tale yellow irises.294

“Hello again, Sammy. Figured I might see you tonight. How’s Dean?”295

“You sonofabitch, let’s just get done with this. What do I have to do to get my brother free?” Sam asked, trying to force the bravado into his voice.296

“Straight to the point huh? No time for pleasantries? Gee, Sam, I was so hoping to be able to chat about world affairs and politics with you. I so rarely enjoy such stimulating conversation.” The demon paused, sighing audibly. “Okay then, down to business it is. One brother, demon free and clear, in exchange for you.”297

“How’s this going to work?” Sam chanced, his hands moving nervously in the pockets of his jeans.298

“Very simple, Sam. I’ll remove my child from your brother in exchange for you, body and soul. And you know what the best part is?” As Sam remained silent, Haris continued, “I won’t even collect on your half of the deal until your birthday. How generous is that of me?”299

“My birthday, why wait? Why not just take me now?” the young man asked, a mixture of suspicion and fear in his voice.300

“Because it’s all part of a greater design, Sammy. You’ll just have to trust me on this. Besides, I’d think you’d be happy to have a little more time with big brother. Maybe get together with Daddy, one last Winchester family reunion. Consider it a buy now, pay later plan.”301

Sam fumbled, his mind battling self-preservation against sacrifice. There really wasn’t a question about it, hadn’t he already admitted that when he left the room seeking the demon? “How much more does big brother have to sacrifice for his family? For you, Sam?”302

Sensing the reluctance, Haris moved closer, sulfur-tainted breath sickeningly close to the young man’s face.303

“Second thoughts? Cold feet? Not quite as brave as your big brother are you? I bet Dean would have already shook hands on the deal by now. Shame you don’t give a damn about him as much as he does you. Too bad for Dean I guess,” the demon taunted, turning away.304

“Screw you, you bastard!” Sam shouted back, spit flying from his mouth as he reached out to grab the demon/clerk’s arm. “It’s a deal!”305

Haris spun back around, a smug smile covering his face. He held out his hand, clawed fingers so closely resembling the hands of the McGregor boy that Sam was taken aback. Slowly, he held out his own, trying to contain the chill that worked over him as the demon snugly clasped his hand.306

“Deal, then,” Haris agreed, pumping Sam’s hand rapidly before slowly letting go.307

As Sam turned to walk away, his heart thumping wildly in his chest as he sought to distance himself from the demon, Haris called out to him one last time.308

“Oh Sam! One more thing.”309

The youngest Winchester looked back at the yellow eyes, suspicion returning.310

“What?” he asked angrily.311

“You must first remove the amulet from around your brother’s neck. I’ll take out my son once it’s off,” Haris instructed. “Then, once it’s removed, you will bring it to me as part of the deal.”312

Sam started to refuse, wanting to question why Haris was so interested in the talisman, remembering the special link the strange piece of jewelry held on his brother. He nearly rescinded his agreement, remembering the last time that Dean had been separated from the golden horned figure. What good was it to save his brother from demon possession to turn around and lose him to the broken bond of the amulet?313

Instead, he nodded quietly, his mind already formulating a plan. Two could play at a demon’s game.314

He walked back to the door of the motel room, pausing briefly as he heard Dean rumbling around the space, apparently out of the safe haven of the shower. Sam took a deep breath, forcing a smile on his face, and opened the door.315

* * * *316

Dean woke, groaning loudly as an errant sunbeam pierced through the curtains and burned unmercifully into his eyes. He tugged the pillow over his head, praying that the soft filling would stifle the drum line that was beating out a cadence in his skull.317

He lay there unmoving, attempting to force his brain into recalling why he felt like shit. There was usually only one excuse for his current condition and that was most often too much alcohol. Still, he didn’t remember drinking that much last night. For that matter, he didn’t really remember that much at all.318

As the percussion in his head continued to play, he forced himself to retrace last evening's events, if for no other reason than it was less painful to lay there thinking than it was to consider any sort of physical movement.319

Dinner. He and Sam had gone to eat at a nearby café, the one with the hideous waitress in the all-too-short skirt. Yeah, he remembered that. With clarity, he recalled his brother suggesting they go for beers at the next door bar. Strange! How many times had Sam ever suggested going out for beer and at a biker-bar no less?320

Still, guilt was laying heavily on both Winchester boys and Dean knew that it was his brother’s way of trying to play peacemaker over their conversation earlier that evening. In his mind, he could remember Sam buying the first round and then shortly after, the next and then the next. The boy must’ve been feeling mighty guilty, he thought to himself.321

Funny though, he couldn’t remember how long they’d been there or how many beers he’d drank or even coming back to the motel. He must have downed a whole lot of alcohol for him to be feeling this way, for him to have forgotten the remainder of the evening. He hadn’t been that drunk in a long time. In fact, he wasn’t sure he’d ever been drunk to the point of completely blacking out. Sam was sure to give him hell over that.322

His bladder moaned in protest and Dean realized that the pounding in his skull was no match for the need to get rid of the previous night’s excessive booze. Groaning again, he rolled to the edge letting gravity drop his feet to the floor. Pushing up, one hand flying up to grab his head while the other reached for the headboard to steady him, the vertigo was another unfamiliar response to “over-indulging."323

Fortunately, the dizziness passed and he stumbled as quietly as possible into the nearby bathroom, pausing as he noticed the still sleeping form of his brother.324

“Haha, tied one on too did ya Sammy?”325

Inside the familiar quiet of the bathroom, Dean leaned heavily forward on the edge of the sink, head down as he tried to find the daily courage to look in the mirror. Staring down his chest, his eyes widened as he spotted the amulet. His hands reached shakily toward the golden charm, perplexed as he noticed that the brown leather thong was hanging loosely around his neck. Fumbling, he reached behind his head and without thinking, retied the worn string securely.326

Still sleep-fogged, he took a deep breath and forced his head up despite the nagging fear. Bloodshot hazel eyes stared back at him from out of the mirror as a wave of relief washed over him.327

Dean stared at his reflection for several long minutes when it struck him. Grasping the amulet between the fingers of his right hand, his left rubbed frantically at his eyes.328

Gold! Untarnished, unblemished gold gleamed back at him. His breathing increased as he reached deep inside, seeking out the familiar voice that had plagued him for weeks.329

“Where are you, you bastard?” he called out, waiting for the gut-wrenching twist that signaled the presence of the demon within him.330

Several more minutes passed as Dean continued to wait for the internal reply. When neither the demon’s voice nor black eyes reflected back at him, Dean reached a shaking hand out to the mirror, touching it as though he were afraid that it was merely an illusion. Completely awake and alert, no longer concerned by the missing memories of the night before, a broad smile widened across Dean’s face.331

The demon was gone!332

The End