dimitri_aidan (dimitri_aidan) wrote in da_requiem,

  • Mood:
  • Music:

I Smell Sex and Candy (1/?)

I Smell Sex and Candy
I don’t own Supernatural and Sebastian Richards belongs to my friend Rochelle B.

Author: Dimitri Aidan
Rating: Borderline R/NC-17.
Spoilers: Pilot, Scarecrow, and Faith most obviously.
Unbeated at the moment. I suck at editing…don’t hurt me.
Pairings: One-sided Sam/Dean, Forced Dean/Other, and Light Sam/OMC.
Warnings: Angst, Violence, Language, Torture, Rape, Sexual Tension, Incest, general badness, and some vaguely religious themes. Lets just leave it at ‘Dean’s having a bad day’.
Summary: Dean and Sam are investigating a series of infant deaths and find themselves in over their heads. When Dean is kidnapped by a demon, Sam is left with no idea of what to do next.
Notes: For the hurt Dean Challenge. I admit, I had some writers block with this one but I did something I never did, not even for school, and did some demon research and it pretty much wrote itself from there. My English teacher would, I’m sure, be proud.

Chapter One
Damn Tonight

James Hollow, Colorado had a population of about fifteen hundred, nestled in the Rocky Mountains, and thrived on tourism during the summer and holidays and renting homes to ’Stars’ with a love for peace and nature. When the logging business had died most of the town had gone with it, but it still hung on. It was a quiet beautiful place and now, in late November, about an inch of snow covered the ground.

James Hollow was ordinary except for the recent number of unexplainable infant deaths. The children would simply pass away in their sleep, unbeknownst to their parents, without a sound or a sign of a struggle. The entire town was in a state of mourning, or that was how it had seemed to them when they had driven into the city limits. Black ribbons hung in every storefront and no one seemed to be out.

Officially it was being labeled as virus related deaths that were sweeping the area. Five towns around James Hollow had also suffered from the virus, only striking newborns. Half a dozen would die over a period of time and then whatever it was would vanish for a month or two before striking a new town.

They’d visited the five towns closet, gathering information and talking to people under the guise of being with the CDC, before finally stopping here. There were only four deaths, meaning they had time to save a few children and stop this thing.

They were in the library, which was apparently not a hotspot on a Thursday afternoon. Spread on the table between them was their father’s journal, photocopies of news stories, their own notes, and a book of mythical creatures that wasn‘t exactly doing a lot of good. From what they could tell their father had encountered nothing like this and their own notes weren’t of much good, since the only connection was the obvious. Six infants, always born within the same two-week period, died abruptly in their sleep with no markings or indication of how it had occurred.

Sam could tell that Dean was agitated, could tell in the way his jaw was set and his fingers were constantly flexing as if he were desperate to get them around something. Then again that was Dean in a nutshell no matter what they were about to get into, always ready for action and to face whatever threat was lurking out there, no matter the risk to his own life.

He got worse when kids were involved though. The biggest example had been willingly electrocuting, and nearly killing, himself to stop any more children from being kidnapped. He would take the stupidest risks with a shit-eating grin on his face if there were even half of a percent of a chance it would work and it made Sam a little crazy. Dean was unpredictable in what lengths he would go to at the best of times…at the worst of times Sam was better off just standing off to the side with a first aid kit and 911 on speed dial.

He was worried too though; there were two infants left and they had no idea what they were up against, where to start looking, or how to kill it. They were pretty much royally fucked. On the upside this was hardly a new situation or something to be alarmed about; it was pretty much how they worked.

“This is getting us no where.” Dean said, slamming the book shut and glaring at it as if it had betrayed him. “We’re wasting time.”

“I know.” Sam sighed and sat up straight, rubbing his hands over his eyes. “I don’t know what else we can do, except wait for the next kid to die, not that anything would come of that.”

“Unless we were there when it attacked.”

Sam rolled his eyes. They’d been over that already. “That’d be great Dean, if there weren’t five potential victims and only two of us. Those aren’t good odds for the three we can‘t watch.”

They had looked over all of the birth announcements for all of the infants born the week of, before, and after that of the infants who had already died and had come up with five of them

Dean snorted darkly. It was very strange actually, the first time in forty years so many women had given birth in such a small period of time and it just happened to occur now. It was so obviously suspicious that it made Dean’s head hurt and it undoubtedly had something to do with whatever was killing the infants. He said as much to Sam and the younger man frowned, leaning back in his seat some.

“Do you think the parents are in on it?”

“Maybe the whole town. All of them.” Dean said with a shrug. “It’d be unusual with so many people, at least five towns already, but not unheard of and it isn’t like they’d be the first people willing to sacrifice their children.”

Sam nodded slowly. He didn’t like to think of it like that, but it was true. “What do you think they’re getting out of it?”

“Pie?” Dean guessed, lips twisting into a rueful smile at Sam’s exasperated groan.

“Jesus Dean, let it go.”

Dean shook his head as he stood up, a glimmer of a plan of action already forming in his mind. It wasn’t a particularly good plan of action, as far as such things went, but it was something and that was more than they were working with now. “Pie Sam, they were killing people for years over pie. They wanted to kill me for pie.”

“Not directly.” Sam said, smiling indulgently. Dean had taken serious offense to having his life deemed less worthy than pies, at least in his eyes, and Sam had all but given up on trying to get him to move on. He had, once for half a second, considered telling his brother that he meant more than pie to him but had decided not to, for the sake of not helping Dean humiliating him.

And also because it was probably the single most stupid thing he’d ever thought about saying in his entire life. More important than pie…

“Where’re we going?”

“To check for suspicious trees and visit the families with newborns.”

Suspicious trees. Sam knew what Dean meant of course, but couldn’t quite shake an image of a tree in sunglasses and a fedora from his mind. He blamed a serious lack of sleep they’d covered all five of the other towns in three days and other than sleeping in the Impala in shifts when they could manage it hadn’t rested yet. He doubted that they would be resting until they had some kind of handle on this.


They ended up at James Hollow Catholic Church, the oldest building in the entire town. As they approached it they could see a blue mini-van parked in front, under the shade of a large oak tree and a woman exiting holding a blanket wrapped bundle carefully. She hurried inside the church, long brown hair gleaming in sun. It was only five o’clock, but it would be getting dark soon which meant that all of the children on their list would be at risk.

“How’s that for suspicious trees?” Sam asked, nodding at the graveyard behind the church. It looked like something out of a movie with crumbling monuments, a rickety wire gate that was missing and bent until it was touching the ground in places, with weeds climbing along the metal. The trees all looked old and reached out with gnarled branches and twisted trunks.

“Pretty good.” Dean said as he parked the Impala behind the mini-van.

They’d come here looking for the O’Connells, a newly married couple who had just welcomed a little girl into their family. Their neighbor had said they were coming out to the church to see some priest and so here they were. They were the last family on their list and Sam still had no idea what the point of all of this was but Dean seemed oddly pleased with himself, as if he were on the verge of some kind of revelation.

Sam, however, had been glad to hear that one of the families, the Ambers, were leaving town in the morning due to paranoia, which was probably the smartest thing any of the parents had said when they had requested interviews. One had slammed the door in their face while the two others had gladly talked to them while laughing off concern, because their children were perfectly healthy and nothing would happen to them.

It was amusing, in a sad way, how sure they were.

“I’ll go check the graveyard and you can talk to them.” Dean said, looking over at him. Sam nodded and opened the door to get out, crisp air chilling him through his coat. He shut the door, glancing up at the slowly setting sun.

Whatever Dean was planning was going to have to go into effect soon.

Dean jogged for the graveyard, going through a gap in the gate, and Sam walked towards the church, shoving his hands into his pockets as he went. He felt a sense of urgency but at the same time didn’t want to interrupt anything. Somehow he didn’t think anyone was going to want to talk to him if he ruined some kind of religious ceremony.

The church itself was made of black stone and had stained glass in all of the windows. The doors were polished reddish-brown wood with rusting black metal fixtures, that whined loudly as he pushed them open. Inside it smelt damp and musty…old, as if it had been used for some time. A glance up found holes starting to form in the ceiling, letting beams of light stream in and chase away the growing darkness.

There was a small hallway with doors on either end but he could see three people standing at the front of the church: a woman and two men.

One of the men, taller than the other, was dressed in all black and holding a bundle wrapped in a pink blanket, over an ornate stone statue. The man dipped a hand in and came up with a handful of water, which he slowly dripped over the baby’s head. There was a moment of silence and then shrill crying from the baby. The woman shifted, hands clenching as if she was trying to restrain herself from reaching out and taking her child back. The other man, her husband he assumed, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. He could hear words, spoken in a loud clear voice in a language Sam couldn’t identify off the top of his head, weaving their way through the air.

Sam slid into one of the back pews, not wanting to interrupt though part of him was curious as to why they would drive so far out of town, nearly an hour, to some rundown church to have their child christened, this late at night with no one else around. It was odd…he couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with whatever was going on.

There were candles burning at the front of the front of the church, on either side of the aisle, and the smell of cinnamon and some kind of wood filled the air.

The man in black reached into the stone bowl again but this time reached out and touched the foreheads of the mother and father, chanting a few more words. A gust of wind blew through the church and Sam shivered, pulling his coat tighter around him, as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

The infant was handed to her mother who took her and, quickly shifting her baby’s weight, threw her free arm around the man, who went rigid but didn’t try to get away. When she pulled away the man rocked back on his heels then reached down into a bag at his feet. He pulled out long strings of what looked like beads and handed them to the other man, making a few gestures with is hand as he spoke. The man nodded and then, putting a hand on his wife’s shoulder, started down the aisle. The man in black followed and once they were closer Sam stood up.

“Hello, I’m-”

“Sam Braun. Or is it Dean?” The man in black asked, smiling slowly. He was about Sam’s height and build, with tanned skin, pale brown eyes, and short black curls. Sam frowned.

“You’ve heard of us?”

“Actually yes.” The woman said with a small smile. “The Brownings, from Wonder Falls, are friends of ours and they told us about you and Father Richards here. They said we might expect you to ask questions about the ‘virus‘.”

The Brownings had been one of the families in the last town they visited who had lost their child. They hadn’t been practically eager to speak to them about what had happened, not that their story would have been any different than anyone else’s in the long run.”

“Father Richards?” The man didn’t look much like a priest, dressed in jeans and sweater. Then again Sam probably didn’t look like he worked for the CDC in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt but people usually went along with it, so who was he to judge. “Do you mind if I ask what you were doing?”

“A simple blessing. I’ve been going to the towns afflicted and helping people protect their newborns.”

Sam’s smiled ruefully. “You haven’t been doing a very good job.”

Father Richards just smiled widely. “Not everyone I offer my services to is willing to accept them. Some would rather rely solely on traditional means whereas others are willing to try anything and everything. I‘m sure you understand what I mean.”

Sam couldn’t help but shiver again, feeling that he knew exactly what the man meant. This wasn’t some simple blessing that much was certain.

“Mr. Braun,” Mr. O’Connell said, offering him a small smile as he started to guide his wife around him. “We’d talk to you but we should be getting home. Besides Tarin hasn’t been sick so we’d probably have nothing that could help you out.”

Sam nodded absently, biting his bottom lip. “That’s fine.”

The O’Connells left after a few more words with Father Richards. The sound of the doors opening and slamming closed again made him jump slightly and Richards smiled again, teeth brilliantly white in the ever-growing gloom.

“Is there something you wanted to ask me?”

“You aren’t a priest.”

A dark chuckle made him draw back some. “You don’t work for the CDC, government officials are a lot more stuffy and less good looking.” Sam blinked, not sure how to respond. He didn’t get a chance because Richards continued after a pause. “I tell them what they want to hear; Priest, Rabbi, Mystic…whatever it takes to make them agree.”

“Agree to what?”

“A simple blessing, as I already said.”

Sam hesitated before asking his next question. “Do you know what’s going on?”

He knew that he should ask less obvious things, try to coax out information like Dean would do but he wasn’t Dean. He couldn’t put people at ease and get them to confess to just about anything with is sparkling wit and charm, as Dean liked to put it. Dean was smooth and Sam…well; Jess had said he was ‘disconcerting’ to most people.

Which was odd, because Dean didn't really have any people skills.

A very nice way of saying ’creepy’ as far as Sam was concerned. His best weapon was to be blunt and hope that surprise would get him a straight answer.

“As much as any mere mortal can.” There was a hint of bitter amusement in his eyes. “Look…I just bless the children. Other than that…I’m not involved. Just be content in the knowledge that Tarin O‘Connell is safe from the demon after these children.”

Sam eyed the man for a moment then nodded. He didn’t believe him for a second but he couldn’t say that, not yet anyway. “Okay. I’ll see you later Richards.”

“Sebastian, please, and I certainly hope so.” His smile became a leer and Sam could feel a blush working its way over his face. “I’m staying at the Hollow Motel, room thirteen, if you want to find me. Feel free to drop by anytime...to talk.”

The way he winked made it clear that talking wasn’t what he was getting at.

“Right.” Sam muttered, shying away as the man walked away, shoulder brushing over his own very deliberately. Sam stood there in the aisle for a few moments, eyes trained on the red runner, which was sun bleached to the point of being almost yellow in some spots. It wasn’t like men never hit on him, he’d gotten more offers in the past year then he had the entire time he was at college, but he had to admit this was the first time someone had been quite so obvious about it.

And in a church no less.


“You could sleep with him.” Dean offered once Sam finished telling him what had gone on inside of the church. Dean had reported that nothing seemed strange in the graveyard; beyond the fact it looked like no one had ventured there in quite some time.

Sam had considered leaving the man’s blatant flirting out but had decided that Dean could probably be mature for a few minutes in his life and focus on the important things, not the embarrassing ones. He wasn’t sure what had made him think that but for a few seconds, while Dean had sat on his bed processing what he was saying, he’d thought he was right.

And then Dean had opened his big mouth and proven Sam wrong.


“What?” Dean somehow managed to look completely innocent in spite of what he was suggesting. Sam wanted to punch him in the face. “I’m just saying that if this guy is after your ass and he obviously knows something maybe you could make nice and find a few things out.”

“No! I don’t even know that guy.”

“So? It’s for the children Sam, the children.”

“Fuck you.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his brother who just blinked. “…This is stupid Dean. He might have been joking.”

Dean snorted. “Sure. As many guys throw themselves at you-”

“I’d hardly call demanding a blowjob at a rest stop throwing themselves at me.”

“…When was that?” Dean’s expression went from teasing to serious in a split second.

Sam blinked slowly. There were times when he suspected Dean of constantly changing subjects just to see him struggle to keep up. “Back in Okalahoma.”

“You should have said something.” Dean muttered, eyes darting away from him for a moment while his hands flexed against the comforter on the bed.

“What the hell for? I told him where to stick his dick and that was the end of it; you would have wanted to shoot him or something stupid like that. Which is funny since you want me to fuck some guy for information.”

“For the children.” Dean corrected. “It won’t be that bad Sam, you might even like it.”

“Why don’t you do it if it’s not bad?” Sam asked dully.

“Because he isn’t interested in me, he’s interested in you. Apparently he digs scrawny.” Dean replied brightly. “Trust me, its fun if you do it right.”

Sam was silent for a moment, staring at his brother who just smirked. Finally he sat back in his chair and pulled his feet off of his bed, rolling his eyes. “Is there anyone you won‘t fuck?”

“Umm…” Dean’s brow furrowed as if he was giving it some serious thought. Sam stood up and shook his head. He grabbed his room key then started for the door. “Where’re you going?”

“Hollow Motel. Why don’t you check out the O’Connells house to see if anything happens?”

“Wait!” Sam sighed and turned just in time to get hit with a small cardboard box. He caught it before it hit the ground. A box of condoms. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Like that was a whole lot of things.

He resisted the urge to throw them back, or better yet throw the lamp on the bedside table, and left without a word. He dropped the box on top of the Impala then headed out of the parking lot and across the street. Most of the motels were crowded into one area ‘about twenty scenic minutes from the slopes’ according to the brochure Sam had looked at while they were checking in. The Hollow happened to be across the street and two buildings down from their own motel.

He walked the entire way silently contemplating Dean’s obvious plan to drive him insane. He was always on his nerves, with little comments and insults and stupid shit like this, and it was faintly reminiscent of before Sam had left for college. Only so much worse than the usual sibling annoyance crap. If didn’t know him as well as he did he’d think it was some twisted form of ‘pigtail pulling’. While he wouldn’t put something so juvenile past his brother, he couldn’t see it directed at him and so he was forced to conclude that Dean was trying to drive him crazy.

He didn’t know why Dean was trying to do it, but he was doing a pretty good job of being so annoying Sam wanted to murder him in the most vicious way possible. Oddly enough Sam kind of valued the moments when he wanted to strangle Dean, because it meant he wasn’t thinking of doing other, very unacceptable and un-brotherly, things to him.

Things that Sam was pretty sure would get him charged with some kind of crime in most, if not all, states. Not to mention Dean would taunt him until they day one of them died…and if Dean died first, who was to say he wouldn’t come back and haunt him just to continue his torment? It would be a very Dean thing to do.

He had no worries about things like is brother hating him or being disgusted like normal people would. No, even his concerns because of thoughts of incest couldn’t be remotely normal; his worry rested solely with how insufferable Dean would become after rejecting him. As far as Dean was concerned there was no one who wouldn’t fall over themselves to get him into bed and if he thought, for even a second, that Sam was the same there would be no way to make him shut up.

Hell, he already wasn’t going to shut up about this. Sam had no intention of taking Dean’s suggestion seriously of course and fully intended to ask Richards a few questions, maybe see if he could gleam anything from what he had in his motel room but Dean was going to be even more annoying for at least a week. Still he was hoping that Richards was one of those obvious demon worshippers, if that was what he was, and had his alter out in the open.

Life would be so much easier that way.

He found room thirteen easily enough and, not giving himself a chance to actually consider what he was doing, knocked. There was no sound or light inside and he wondered if perhaps the man wasn’t there, when a light came on and he heard the click of the door being unlocked. It swung open, bright light streaming out, and Richards blinked at him from behind wire rim glasses. He was wearing only a loose pair of pajama pants and Sam’s eyes, independent of the part of his brains that still clung to some form of common sense, darted down. Richards was lean but muscular and a long stretch of scar tissue, shiny white against tan, ran from his right nipple to above his navel.

“You’re staring.” Richards’ voice was thick with sleep and when Sam looked back up he saw the man biting back a yawn. “Hello.”

“Hey. I…you …”

“Are dead sexy? I know; it’s a curse.” He leaned against the doorframe and tilted his head to the side. “What can I do for you?”

“Well…you said I could come by.” Sam blamed the scar for his sudden lack of coherency. It had to be the scar because, aside from Dean, he had no lusty-type thoughts about other men. Because…well, because that would be entirely too normal for him. Just being gay would never cut it; he had to take it beyond that.

So, for the record, he was in no way attracted to this man. It was the scar. He was intrigued, curious even. But that was it.

“I was joking.” Richards said, squinting at Sam for a moment. “I hope you don’t take every guy who offers up on it.”

“Good. I mean…I’m not…I just had a few questions.” Sam said licking his lips nervously; there was something in those eyes that made him feel about five years old and five inches tall at the same time, as if he wasn‘t worthy of even being here. He was going to kill Dean for even suggesting this. “I mean, you know what’s going on and I want to know.”

“Wow. Well I’ll get right on catering to you.” Richards said, sarcasm thick in his voice. He moved as if to shut the door but Sam moved forward, putting his hand on the man’s arm to stop him. He got a baleful look in return.

“Look, me and my brother are trying to stop whatever it is but we don’t even know where to begin. If you’re really trying to keep this kids safe you should let us help you.”

“Hmm…no. This is a bit beyond you, trust me.”

Sam pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to keep from getting annoyed. “I’ve been doing this since I was a kid, I doubt it’s beyond me.”

“Heh. This is wrath of God type shit; it’s over your head.”

“We’re going to help no matter what, even if it involves following you around. I’m trying to be nice.”

Richards just blinked again then stood to one side, making a gesture for Sam to come in. He hesitated a moment then walked past the man and into the room. It was nearly identical to his own, save it had one bed and the carpet was a hideous beige instead of puke-green. There was no alter, dead animals, or thick dusty books anywhere.

In fact other than the clear crystal about the size of Sam’s fist sitting on the bedside table there was nothing remarkable about the room. Richards motioned to the chair at the desk where the TV was before shuffling into the bathroom. He didn’t shut the door and Sam could see him pulling a shirt from a suitcase and pulling it on.

He didn’t sit and instead walked over to the crystal. It was warm to the touch boarding on hot and seemed to be…moving in a way. He sat that, while it was indeed clear, there was a bright white light inside of it, growing brighter and fainter as if in time to something.

“Don’t drop that.” Richards commanded quietly. There was a thump behind him and Sam turned to see that a binder had been dropped onto the desk. Richards opened it and flipped a few pages before nodding to himself. Sam put the crystal down and walked over. The page the binder was open to show a black and white image of a half-woman half…something else. Her face was beautiful but at the same time terrible, eyes burning and mouth open to show razor sharp teeth. Her bottom half was some kind of cross between a snake and an octopus if he was forced to put a name to it.

“The thing killing these children is a demon named Lilith…or I guess ‘the Demon’ would be more accurate. There are a lot of different stories but the one I think is closet to the truth is Hebrew legend. She was created from the earth to be Adam’s first wife but she wouldn’t be subservient, seeing that she was equal because she was created as he was. Adam couldn’t handle that and had her cast out of Eden and then Eve was made from one of Adam’s ribs.

“Lilith was far from pleased, vowing revenge on Adam, Eve, and God. When Satan approached her to become his bride she accepted and became a demon herself. About here is branches into a few other stories but from what I‘ve gathered she gave birth to a wide array of demons, each more terrible than the last and even went so far in her vengeance as to seduce Cain and turn him against his brother. She was eventually torn to pieces and ‘destroyed‘ by three angels and scattered to the winds but…that never actually works in these cases and when she returned she decide to continue her vengeance against mankind by taking and devouring the souls of all children not blessed. Any kind of blessing will do so she acts fast leaving no marks or indications she was there and then moves on.”

“And you’re following her?”

“When our paths cross.” He shrugged slightly. “She’s impossible to follow because she can be anywhere at anytime and is only bound by a few rules. She always takes six souls, never more or less, and doesn’t do harm to anyone else.”

Sam nodded, reaching out and turning the page. Next was pages torn from a notebook, covered in what he assumed to be Richards half-print half-cursive scrawl. Dates, places, names…it seemed to go back about ten years and started with ‘Barbara Cross’ in Boston. Sam let his fingers trace the names and dates, flipping through what felt seemed like dozens of pages. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how many children’s names were written in here. Once the lists were done there were newspaper clippings, photos, and letters.

“How do you stop her?”

“You don’t, otherwise I would have.” Richards said with a laugh. “She’s the mother of all demons kid, you can’t ‘stop’ her. She’s not some angry spirit haunting a house or an out of control were. Weren‘t you listening at all?”

Sam glared. He’d never liked being talked down to or treated like a kid. His father had done it between the time Dean had started hunting and Sam had started, treating him like he was some ignorant child who hadn’t seen just about everything other ten year olds had just stopped believing in just because he wasn’t actively going out and killing them.

Richards was silent for a moment then sighed. “If there was a way I would have found it. All you can do is bless as many kids as possible, usually one or two, and hope she doesn’t feel inclined to send one of her children to rip your stomach out through your ear.”

“That’s crap, there has to be something you can do other then letting hundreds of kids die.” Sam refused to believe that there was nothing that could be done beyond saving two kids. That was just…too depressing a thought to be possible.

“She’s immortal, around since the first men walked the earth, bride of Satan. It’s pretty much a done deal.”

“Nothing is immortal. I’ve heard vampires make the same claim."

“Vampires are the red-headed bastard step-child of the lowest of demon kind. They’re just humans who got ’lucky’ enough to get a taste of low level demon blood and demons like Lilith aren’t even inclined to acknowledge them as more than flies. Better than humans, who are like germs to be cleaned off at the end of the day, but still…” Richards was silent for a moment, watching Sam intently before shrugging. “I told you, it’s over your head. Unless you want to die I wouldn’t bother.”

Sam was quiet, flipping back through the binder. Always six children, born in the same two weeks…there had to be thousands…hundred of thousands in this binder alone. And no one was doing anything, or was going to do anything, about it.

“This is shit.”

“Yeah.” Richards snorted softly then reached around Sam to pick up the binder, pressing against him for a brief moment. “I’ve adjusted to just running around and being a minor annoyance. Losing battle and all that.”

“You’ve never seen her, have you?”

“I can’t do anything to her, so why would I bother? If I die then I’m no good at all to anyone.”

“Well then how the hell do you know you can’t do anything? Maybe she has a weakness that’s not in here, but something you have to see.” The look of Richards face was clear: ‘Aww, he’s so stupid it’s almost cute’. Sam pushed the chair back while raking his fingers through his hair. He was ready to either leave or punch the shit out of this guy he was so frustrated. “I can’t just sit here while more kids die. At least go bless the other four.”

“Their parents won’t allow it. Most don‘t, lack of faith, and she always gets her six.”

Sam opened his mouth to ask why he didn’t just do it without the parents but a thought occurred to him and he paused, frowning. “Always?”


“What happens if she doesn’t?”

Richards, what had taken to leaning against the desk and looking at some point on the far wall, looked down at him. “What?”

“If she doesn’t get all six, what happens?”

“…The apocalypse? Why the fuck are you asking me?”

“Because you’re the one who knows this.”

Another glare and then a shrug. “I don’t know. She always gets her six…it’s just how it is.”

“But if she weren’t to get them…could she just grab whoever?”

“No, there are rules to the game. Balance. It has to follow a set pattern, and don‘t get me started on the irony of that.”

“And if you make it impossible for her to follow the rules…she loses.” Sam could feel a bubble of excitement in his chest. It was of course just a theory and a half-assed one at that but it made sense and he couldn’t see any major flaws beyond taking on the Queen of Hell with a theory.

Richards made a noise and then laughed, pushing his glasses up to rub at the bridge of his nose. “You’re going to get yourself killed; you’re all but putting on a ’kill me please’ sign.”

“Nothing new.”

“Whatever. Lilith is going after Tarin O’Connell tonight but it shouldn’t be a problem as long as her parents put up the cloves over her crib and no one disrupts the salt circle and earth lines around the doors.” He said with a half-smile. “We can work on getting the rest of the children blessed in the morning.”

The excited feeling crashed and burned, giving way to a queasy panicked one. Sam leaned back in his chair and swallowed thickly. “…If, in theory, someone saw something strange and disrupted the circle and lines what would happen?”

“It would disrupt all of the magic around Tarin, and there is a lot, and reverse effect on whatever idiot disrupted the lines targets for all sorts of nasty shit.”

“Meaning?” Sam had a general idea but he wanted to be sure before he did something drastic.

“They’d become the biggest target in a tri-state area, if I had to guess. All of those are protect spells, to make Tarin and her parents invisible to Lilith and whatever demons come around. To reverse it would basically make whomever a giant blinking neon sign in the middle of what would basically be a blackout to demons. The only thing in the entire house.” Richards didn’t look concerned. In fact he looked almost serene. “But if that happened that crystal would glow.”

Sam nodded, licking his lips. Okay…the crystal was still the same was when he’d come into the room so everything was fine. He just had to call Dean and let him know that everything was fine and not to-

His cell phone rang. Sam wondered why whoever was in charge of their lives hated them so much. He pulled it out of his pocket, ignoring the muttered ‘well that can’t be good’ from Richards.


“Yeah, Sam, something weird is going on at the O’Connells; bright lights and weird shadows in the nursery.”

“Where are you?” The crystal was still the same, pulsing faint white in its clear shell, so Sam wasn’t overly worried.

There was a pause and then, almost sheepishly, his brother replied. “The kitchen. I know you hate that breaking and entering thing but-”

“Shit.” Richards was on his feet and walking over to the crystal, which was quickly turning a bright blue and already glowing, bright enough that he had to squint to look at it. Sam‘s mouth went dry at the sight of it. “Shitshitshit. Okay…he needs to run away. Now. Fast.”

Sam started to say just that but a loud shrill cry than penetrated to the center of his brain. He wrenched the phone away from his ear and dropped it, nearly knocking his chair over in his haste to get away from that sound. It reminded him of a banshee cry, only much much worse. The banshee had been mournful and sad, but this was like…pain given sound. The lights flickered for a moment and then the bulb in the lamp shattered. The noise only got worse and when Sam went to put his hands over his ears he could feel slickness dripping from them.

It was almost like the sound itself could peel the skin from his body and it hurt like it was. He stumbled back, falling to his knees and closed his eyes tightly. It seemed to go on like that forever.

Until it stopped.

Sam opened his eyes. There was no preamble to it stopping; it just cut off as if it had never been to begin with. The room was pitch black save the crystal, which was now glowing a muted blue. He heard the shuffling of feet and then a hand touched his shoulder. He looked up and could just make out Richards, who was holding his phone as if it might bite him.

Sam sat up and snatched it, putting it against his ear carefully. “Dean? Dean?”

There was no sound on the other end, absolutely nothing. Not static, not movement, not even breathing come from the other end…nothing.

Wonder Falls: I wonder if I was the only one who watched that show…heh. Anyway, I don’t use real towns/places if I can avoid it. If I think too much I start wondering about silly things like distance between places and driving time.
Lilith: I kept the basic idea (Adam’s first wife, cast out for independence, married Satan, steals souls of unblessed children, destroyed by three angels…) and then went from there.
You know, I just wanted to torment Dean, but then my ‘muses’ wanted to torment Sam a little bit as well and I was all for that as well. And then they wanted a plot and I was wary, but okay…until they were ‘BAM’ serious plot that takes time to develop. This has one or two more parts that will be at least this long. I have to work on scaling down…

Tags: hurt dean, slash, wincest
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic