Fortress - Section One

[glasslogic]

I have heard the key

Turn in the door once and turn once only

We think of the key, each in his prison

Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison

~T.S. Eliot, The Wasteland

Prologue:

He didn’t remember how long he had been in the World, or what had happened to trap him there. Everything was confusing and abrasive to senses accustomed to another Plane. He drifted from one body to the next, taking hosts like any demon -- using the flesh to keep himself anchored. He didn’t want to be anchored. But when he tried to sink into himself, to escape back to where he belonged, he was driven back, bound against his nature with grim-wards and seals.

The voices were always whispering to him as he burned through host after host, struggling and fighting to escape, careless of the borrowed flesh that fit him like a cramped cage. The whispers never let up and never calmed down. Layers of sound, cajoling, pleading, commanding. Even when the hissed syllables eventually formed into words he learned to recognize, the words themselves had no value. Brother. Hunting. Family. Love.

He watched a street fight from the shadows of an alley, taking in each blow, each vivid, cutting emotion, and some of the whispers took on new meanings: Rage. Yes. Betrayal. Destruction. He knew these words, they meant concepts he grasped. His attention was caught and his struggles lessened; he started paying attention to the words and discovered that when he didn’t fight them, they came with images and sensations. Eventually he learned a new word. Sam. And quickly on the heels of that one: Mine.

Then one day he had enough pieces. And there was something he had to do.

Revenge.

~~~~~~~

Months Later...

Sam was shirtless and barefoot on the front porch when Ruby slunk out the door behind him into the cool night air, still buttoning her shirt. He was staring out into the darkness; the stars in the moonless sky and the dim shine of a table lamp through the windows of the house behind them gave just enough light to make out the shadows of the heavily warded fence posts bordering the yard. The slope past the posts angling down to a dirt road and scrub brush was completely lost in the night. Far down the winding road, a pinprick on the horizon marked the closest neighbor Sam had.

Ruby trailed a finger up the middle of Sam’s back from the waistband of his worn, low-slung jeans to right below his shoulder blades. He tensed at her touch; it made her smile as she stepped up beside him. She tried to find what had his attention, but the landscape was uniform in the darkness even to her vision, all of her heightened senses and more unnatural gifts stifled by the ward-line of the yard and the oppressive magics of the house to her back.

“What are you looking at?”

“There’s someone out there,” Sam said, still staring out towards the road.

Ruby raised one perfectly-shaped brow. “I don’t see anything.”

“Neither do I,” Sam admitted, frowning.

“I think you’re delusional,” Ruby murmured, stepping into his space and winding her arms around his waist. “All this isolation is making you crazy. You should get out and live a little.”

That snapped Sam out of his distraction; he scowled and pushed her away, wrapping his arms around himself defensively. “Don’t touch me.”

Ruby planted her hands on her hips and raked her gaze over his body with a leer. “I just finished touching a lot more of you than that, Sam.”

“Something I don’t have a choice in. When it’s my choice, you don’t fucking touch me.”

“You have a choice.”

Sam’s hazel eyes narrowed. “Is that where you want this conversation to go, Ruby? Because last time I checked, the only thing stopping Lilith from rending you into so many shreds of screaming smoke is the nonexistent chance you might drag me back into the fold. I die, that chance is gone, and I suspect, since she’s a monster, that she will find great pleasure in taking her frustrations out on you. So are you sure you want to really tempt me to think of that as an option?”

Ruby’s eyes burned black as she scowled at him. “You won’t do it. Not as long as your precious Dean is still burning in the Pit. I’m sure there are still a few dark corners of the world left to explore that might have the information you need pry him out,” she taunted. “How’s that research going for you, anyways?”

“It would only take a little paint and an hour or two of work to erase the permissions that let you in this place.”

Ruby looked bored. “Which means that every few weeks, you would have to step outside your happy hidey hole to meet me somewhere else so I can touch you anywhere I like, and for you to touch me back, of course. You’d think this wouldn’t be news to you after seven years.” She smiled at his scowl. “And since we both know Dean will climb out of Hell before you walk past those fence posts...” She shrugged. “Sorry if I don’t take your threats seriously.”

“We’re done here,” he said tightly, features pinched with fury.

“For now.”

His eyes darted over her shoulder and she turned to look one more time, exasperated.

“There really isn’t anything there, Sam. The wards you’ve got around this place would stop the Second Coming. Maybe you should get more sleep,” she suggested as she stepped off the porch and into the spell that would sweep her away for another three or four weeks. Until he needed her again --her body, her blood-- to live.

~~~~~~~

Outside, in the darkness on the dirt road, below the silent crackling of the fence post wards and the steep, patchy slope, far beyond the dim light through the windows and the wooden plank porch where a tall man stood shirtless and shivering in the cool air, another man was standing, looking back up at the house. He had been completely still for hours, a shadow against the black, and all the subtle creatures of the night were careful to give him wide berth. He took careful note of the people on the porch and watched their argument with interest.

When the woman vanished into the spell, he smiled and said one word: “Gotcha.”



Chapter One:

Blood runs thick and when it rains it pours down
On the family tree or the fields of war
I spend my time being broken hearted and grieving bound
I haven’t much need to look forward
~Devotion, Indigo Girls

Seven Years Earlier…

It had been three months, five days, seven hours and thirty-one minutes since it happened. In the back of his mind, the clock kept running, ticking endless seconds. Numbers burning behind his eyes; the first thing he registered in the morning, the imagery that haunted him to sleep. Three months, five days, seven hours and thirty-two minutes since his brother died for him, and Dean was still in Hell.

He had been numb when Bobby found him on the floor, kneeling in blood, cradling Dean’s corpse. Like a backdraft, there had been that first crushing blow of grief, then the true horror of his brother’s fate rushed over him, leaving only numbness inside. It had lasted through their hasty escape, through Bobby finding a place to hole up, through washing the body.

His mind had refused to register it as Dean.

When Bobby started talking about burning the corpse, Sam adamantly refused. He was going to save Dean, and his brother would need that body when he came back. In retrospect, Sam was surprised Bobby had been willing to agree. But then, he had always treated them like sons; maybe he couldn’t bear to see Dean burn either.

His nails were still crusted with dirt from burying his brother when the numbness began to retreat and rage started to seep in. Sam was mad at everything. He let it simmer in his silence; he answered Bobby with nods or grunts and Bobby didn’t push him. Back at the salvage yard, still icy with April snow, Sam tore into Bobby’s library with deadly intent. He slept on the broken couch, fingers stained with ink and face stained with tears he couldn’t find when he was awake. He devoured everything Bobby owned and still had no ideas. He packed up and left.

Weeks later, Sam still had no clues, but his rage kept him focused. He barely slept, and he knew he was losing weight. Nothing else mattered, but he still couldn’t find any solutions. The crossroads demons no longer answered his summons, and he could find no book, no clue, no person who seemed to offer any lead. He spun in the same circles he had been trapped in before the deal came due, and only slept when the alcohol dragged him under.

Then, though she had been missing since the night Dean died, Ruby came back, and everything changed.

~~~~~~~

“Sam?”

“Bobby.”

“It’s been a while; I’ve been worried about you. There some reason you can’t pick up a phone and talk to me these days?”

“I’m talking to you now.”

“Yeah, well, it took you damn long enough. What have you been up to?”

“What do you think, Bobby?”

“Sam…”

“Don’t even start with me; I don’t need your help or your concern. Ruby and I have it under control, and after I’m done with Lilith, I will rescue Dean.”

“You and Ruby, Sam? The demon? That’s who you have watching your back now?!”

“Goodbye, Bobby. I told you, I know what I’m doing.”

~~~~~~~

They had been working together for months now, but no matter how many meetings they had, there was always something hypnotic in watching her approach.

She walked into the diner like a pop version of the Queen of Night. All long, dark hair and sultry eyes, carrying hints of jasmine and bubblegum with her. She crossed the room towards Sam, her crooked smile just for him. He felt muscles tensed for days slowly relax as she drew close.

“Hey, Sam,” she greeted, sliding into the booth across from him.

“Ruby,” Sam acknowledged. He slid his leg forward to brush against hers under the table and felt a rush of… almost happiness, when she quirked an eyebrow and reached across the table to touch his hand briefly.

“Miss me?” she asked wryly.

“Only because you won’t stick around more than a couple of days at a time,” Sam replied, watching her pour half the bottle of ketchup into a saucer and drag his French fries towards her. “If you wouldn’t keep vanishing, I could be making a lot more progress.”

“And if I don’t keep an eye on Lilith’s movements, she might be up our nose before you’re ready to take her on,” she retorted, munching his fries.

Sam looked frustrated. “I’m never going to be ready to take her on at this rate!”

“Headache?” Ruby interrupted, before he could continue.

”What?”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yes,” Sam snapped. “Comes and goes. Now--” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I’ve been doing some research and I’m pretty sure I know where we can find a demon. I waited for you this time, but I’m not going to keep sitting on my ass wondering when you’re going to turn back up, Ruby.”

She rolled her eyes and stood, tossed a twenty on the table and walked toward the door. Sam stared after her for a moment, before hastily following with a mumbled thanks toward the waitress. He caught her at the door, but before he could ask her what the hell was up, she turned and slipped a finger through his belt loop.

“Sounds like you’ve got our evening planned, but I notice the afternoon is still free.” She gave a smile that made his blood rush south. “Besides, if you’re going to be doing the heavy lifting, you should probably make sure you get plenty to drink beforehand.” She tilted her head and his eyes picked out the pulse in her throat; he felt a stab of desire for something that still made his skin crawl, but knew he would never refuse. Not when it gave him the power to inflict even a fraction of his pain on the monsters that destroyed his brother.

“Yeah,” he said, having to swallow hard before he could get the word out. “I suppose we have a few hours to kill.”

“Yeah,” she echoed, letting go of his belt loop and slipping her arm through his, leaning in against him so he could feel the warm length of her along his side. The only warmth he had been aware of since that night in Indiana. “Let’s go.”



Chapter Two:

Through the days of shame that are coming
Through the nights of wild distress
Though your promise count for nothing
You must keep it nonetheless
~Heart With No Companion, Leonard Cohen

Wyoming in late August was warm and windy, the summer burn starting to shade into hues of golden fall, but Sam noted nothing that wasn’t a target, a weapon or a threat. When Ruby was with him, he stalked demons; when she wasn’t, he found other hunts to occupy his time, to keep himself sharp. Ruby promised he was almost ready, not quite there yet, but soon.

It had been a busy few days. He walked out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, dragged on a t-shirt and boxers over damp skin then collapsed across his bed, grateful to get off his feet. The heavy bruising on his upper back from the poltergeist throwing him into the wall had turned an ugly greenish color. It wasn’t interfering with his mobility much, just hurt like a bitch. He turned his head to see the time. She was late.

“She isn’t coming.”

Sam had the gun ripped out from under the pillow and pointed at the stranger before the sentence was finished.

He felt unbalanced, not only by the fact that a stranger had appeared out of nowhere and was sitting in his motel room, but by the fact that what made him really want to kill him was that he was sitting on Dean’s bed. Dean’s bed. Jesus. It had been months and he was still getting doubles in motel rooms. He could ignore the obvious signs of his failure to deal most nights, but not when it was rubbed in his face.

“Who the hell are you?” Sam asked warily. The stranger looked like he’d just walked out of a nine-to-five.

“I am Castiel, an Angel of the Lord,” the stranger said with all seriousness. Sam felt his lips twitch despite himself at the craziness of the situation.

“Of course you are. And I’m Rupert, one of Santa’s tiny little elves,” Sam retorted sarcastically. “Who are you really?”

“You are Samuel Winchester. Dean Winchester’s brother,” the stranger said slowly, with a puzzled expression. “I have never heard you called Rupert before. Is that how you wish to be addressed?”

Sam had lost all hints of patience at the mention of Dean’s name. “I’m tired, unhappy and not really in the mood to dig another grave tonight. But don’t think I won’t if you don’t start talking right now.” He tightened his finger on the trigger. “Who the hell are you?”

“I told you. I am Castiel, an Ang-”

“Yeah,” Sam said, cutting the stranger off. He wasn’t getting threatening vibes off the guy, even if he had appeared out of nowhere, and bruises were making holding the gun on the stranger painful. Sam could see the lock still engaged on the door; he was sure the guy hadn’t been there when he walked out of the shower…

The stranger, Castiel, was still watching him with that serious, concerned expression. Sam was starting to feel ridiculous. He sighed and let the hand with the gun fall beside him on the bed.

“Maybe we should start with something simpler,” Sam said finally. “What are you doing in my motel room?”

“I wished to speak with you. It would have been inefficient to be somewhere else.”

Sam could feel a headache coming on. And his skin felt too tight and achy. He needed her, not some crazed guy in a trench coat.

“She isn’t coming. Not tonight,” the man said, looking distant for a moment. “Maybe not tomorrow either. But soon.”

Sam frowned as the hair stood up on his neck; the guy had mentioned her before. “Are you reading my mind?”

“Not intentionally,” the man assured him. “But you are projecting very… clearly.”

The guy had appeared out of nowhere in his motel room; Sam was willing to overlook the possibility of mindreading for the moment, in exchange for something more immediately important to him. “If you know about her, do you know where she is?”

“The battlefield is often obscured, but I made an effort to ascertain her whereabouts tonight. I wished to speak with you in privacy.”

“What battlefield?” Sam asked warily.

“This world. The first Seal has been broken, and now Creation holds its breath waiting for the Apocalypse to begin. The skirmishing grows more intense daily to defend the remaining Seals.”

“No,” Sam said firmly, “it isn’t going to get that far. Without Lilith, the demons won’t be able to break the last Seal. There won’t be an Apocalypse. We’re going to stop it.”

Castiel leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and looked down as if the carpet was fascinating.

“We were not supposed to meet,” he said solemnly.

“Then why the hell are you here? And don’t think I’m buying this angel bullshit.”

Castiel continued speaking as if Sam hadn’t interrupted. “I was given an important mission to fulfill. I failed. Because of that failure, many options have been closed to us. I am forced to appeal to you.” He looked very earnest. “The fate of this world depends upon it.”

Sam raked frustrated fingers through his damp hair with his free hand. “What the hell are you talking about?!”

“I believe this conversation will go better if you believe in what I am.” The guy held his hand out to Sam, who eyed it warily. “Please. Time is short. I am not going to harm you.”

Sam reached out slowly. His instincts were screaming at him, but the message was confused. As his fingers brushed over the stranger’s, the world exploded in a flash of blinding white.

~~~~~~~

When Sam came back to himself, he was on his knees between the beds, clutching his head with his hands. As his vision cleared, he saw the man, the angel, reaching for him and scrambled back with a cry until his back slammed into the dresser. He didn’t even feel the pain.

“I mean you no harm,” Castiel repeated patiently. Sam couldn’t find enough words to respond to that. Castiel looked puzzled, but remained sitting on the bed. “You have a… relationship, with a demon. Your family has had many encounters with agents of Hell. Why do you find my existence so difficult to accept?”

Sam swallowed hard a few times. He didn’t think he could begin to answer that question either, so he went back to the conversation before Castiel had upended his world view. “What mission did you fail that would bring you to talk to me?”

The angel met his eyes directly. “I was sent to raise Dean Winchester from Hell.”

Sam was on his feet without even registering the movement. “You were sent to--” he said haltingly, trying to wrap his mind around that. “Wait, you were sent to--” Sam settled for the most important part. “What do you mean you failed?”

The angel almost looked remorseful. “I am sorry, Sam. Far more sorry than you can know. My orders were to raise Dean from the Pit and return him to his mortal body. It cost the Host greatly for me to reach into Hell at all. Your brother should have been in the Rendering, where almost all damned souls abide. I scoured the plane for him, and found many traces, but Dean himself was gone.”

“Gone,” Sam echoed, as he sank slowly back onto the edge of his bed, gun completely forgotten. “So if he wasn’t in Hell, and I guess you would know if he was in Heaven… does that mean he’s back in the world?” A stab of hope.

“No,” Castiel said flatly. “Without the sort of intervention that is clearly obvious, such as our attempt to rescue Dean, the only way souls leave Hell is as the creatures you call demons. And though he was subject to the worst that Hell has to offer, he has not been there long enough to undergo the transformation.”

“So then what? Where is he? And, not that I don’t appreciate it, but why does Heaven care about Dean?”

“The infernal realm is known to your people by many names. It is not coincidental that one of them is the Pit. The depths of Hell are near fathomless, and only my Father can see them clearly. Very few souls, demonic or not, pass beyond the surface. Below that, the ways are winding and unknown to the Host. This is the domain of the Fallen, and denizens that have forgotten themselves so much that they have become mere chords in the charnel winds.” Castiel lowered his head again. “We have… no ability to act there, Sam. For some reason, Dean has descended. He is beyond our ability to reach now.”

“No. No, that’s not right. You guys are angels, you work for God. How can Dean be out of reach?” Sam demanded in frustration.

“It is the way of things,” the angel replied solemnly.

“Fine. I’ll just stick with the original idea and rescue him myself.”

Castiel met his eyes. “I don’t think you understand, Sam. Time in Hell is different than the time you experience here. For each month that passes here, at its surface, ten years may pass below, and the discrepancy only grows greater the further from this plane one travels. There is no way to know where Dean has gone, or how deep. It is probable that he has experienced centuries, millennia even, by now.”

“I don’t care,” Sam said resolutely. “He went to Hell for me. I’m not going to leave him there. As soon as this Lilith thing is over, that is the only thing I will be working on.”

“Sam,” Castiel said gently, “you have met and battled demons; they are the product of the Rendering. Those that go Below, they are an entirely new category of creature. I’m not saying you should not rescue your brother, I am saying there is nothing left of your brother to rescue; not that you would recognize.”

“I don’t believe you,” Sam said thickly.

Castiel cocked his head to one side. “I cannot help what you believe. I speak the truth.”

Sam rubbed at his eyes. “You never said why you cared in the first place. Why Heaven gives a damn about my brother.”

“You are familiar with the Seals? What they are?”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, “the locks on Lucifer’s prison. There are a bunch of them, and the demons have to break sixty-six of them. Any sixty-six, but the last one is specific. That’s where Lilith has to be. That’s where I’m going to stop her.”

The angel nodded in confirmation. “You know about the last Seal. What you don’t know is that the first Seal was also specified: ‘And the first Seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break’.”

“Dean,” whispered Sam.

“Yes. The Rendering is a terrible place, Sam. And Dean was there for a long time by mortal standards before the Seal was broken. We do not judge your brother for his actions there.”

“But why would that make you want to rescue him?”

“Because it is also written: ‘And the righteous man who begins it shall be the only person who can end it.’ We could not prevent the Seal from breaking, but we hoped to salvage Dean so that even if the demons manage to destroy all of the Seals, there would still be a chance of victory.”

“But you couldn’t save him.”

“No, Sam. I am sorry.”

Sam shrugged, rubbing at his temples. “You don’t have to apologize to me. I didn’t save him either.”

“You should not carry so much guilt for this, Sam. You had no say in the choices Dean made that led to this.”

Sam spoke incredulously. “He went to Hell and started the Apocalypse for me. Now Lucifer might walk free and the world as I know it come crashing to an end, but I shouldn’t carry so much guilt?”

“They were not your decisions.”

“You still haven’t said why you came to me,” Sam prompted, trying to get back to the point of all this. “If it was to ask me not to try and rescue Dean, you’ve wasted a trip.”

“No. We do not believe that is a possibility, so there is no reason for us to act in that matter. Dean’s disposition has forced us to consider other ways to prevent what is coming.”

“Are you going to help me stop Lilith?”

“No. And you must take no actions against her either.”

“She’s going to break the final Seal. I have to stop her!”

“Sam,” Castiel said intently, “Lilith is the final Seal.”

Sam stared at him, the idea not even processing for a few moments. “No. No, she’s trying to break the Seals to free Lucifer.”

“Lilith is a very powerful demon. She is the first demon, and the bond between her and Lucifer is very special. It is Lilith’s blood that will shatter the last Seal and free Lucifer from his prison. But Lilith cannot be easily killed. Only a special child, with the right skills and training, will be able to do it.”

Sam was still shaking his head.

“Azazel was sent to see to the creation of such a child, Sam,” Castiel continued, “a child who would have the ability to destroy Lilith.”

“You’re wrong,” Sam said flatly.

“I was sent to raise Dean from Hell so that he could deal with Lucifer.”

“Yeah,” Sam said shakily. “I got that. I don’t believe it, but I understand the words. I mean, I love my brother. And he’s probably the best hunter I have ever seen. But Lucifer?”

“We only need Dean to handle Lucifer if you free him in the first place.”

Sam was utterly silent.

“Azazel and Lilith together created you, and have bent all of their resources to making sure that you are ready at the appointed time.”

“I don’t take orders from either of them. And I don’t believe you about Lilith. Ruby is helping me…”

“Ruby, the demon,” Castiel interjected, “is helping you prepare to kill Lilith to stop the Seal from breaking? Why would a demon help you thwart Lucifer?”

“She hates Lilith, she remembers being human, she doesn’t want to see the world burn. Pick one!” Sam rubbed at his temples, trying to stop the pounding. “She’s helped me destroy dozens of demons, Lilith’s followers. She showed Bobby how to make bullets for the Colt. She’s teaching me…” His voice trailed off.

“She’s helped you destroy foot soldiers. Which number legions in Hell. The Colt is insignificant at this point. Only Lilith matters.”

“This… this isn’t possible. I don’t claim Ruby tells me everything, but she doesn’t lie to me either. This doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes less sense than a demon joining sides with hunters? Ruby was sent to make sure that you learned what you needed to learn and show up at the appointed place; to keep anything from distracting you from your goal. She is working for Lilith. And Ruby, with Azazel and Lilith destroyed, will be the surviving demon who will have done the most to restore the Morningstar to his freedom.”

“That’s easy to say. But so far, all you have are words. You show up to tell me Dean can never be rescued from Hell and that Ruby, who has actually saved my life, and actually helped me, is working against me. You don’t have any proof.”

“Perhaps not.” The angel paused. “Why did you start listening to Ruby to start with?”

“What?”

“With your family’s history, I am surprised you would converse with a demon at all. How did she convince you?”

“I… didn’t know she was a demon at first. She helped us out on a case.”

“And later, when you knew, why did you tolerate her?”

“She said she…” Sam’s voice trailed off as the memory enveloped him. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten.

“What did she promise you that made you keep going to her and taking her advice? That made Dean tolerate her.”

“She said she knew how to break Dean’s contract,” Sam almost whispered. “She said she could show me how to save him from the Crossroads deal.”

“And where is your brother now, Sam?”

Sam just stared.

~~~~~~~

Hours later, in the darkness, Sam twisted in the scratchy polyester of cheap motel sheets, wracked with fear and doubt. The angel, having spoken its piece, had vanished in the silence of Sam’s horror as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving Sam alone to consider its words.

He still wasn’t sure what to believe.

Ruby had been… really everything to him since Dean died. He had blown off Bobby and Ellen’s attempts to console him, and hadn’t spoken to either in months. Even Missouri had left a message on his phone -- however she had gotten the number, another lifeline he’d ignored. There wasn’t anyone else in his life who would care enough to try and reach him. Consumed by his need for vengeance, he had shoved them all aside, with Ruby’s staunch support, he remembered darkly. At the time, he had not wanted to face people who also had memories of Dean, people who would remind him of his own humanity. People who would care. Ruby had become his traveling companion, his mentor, and eventually even his lover. He trusted her absolutely. A demon. All of his focus was on getting stronger, getting faster, killing Lilith. Always killing Lilith. Anytime he faltered from pain or exhaustion, there was Ruby, grabbing his arm and reminding him he had to kill Lilith.

Sam rolled over, his head still pounding and his heart tight from his conversation with Castiel. He couldn’t even think about Dean now. That would break him completely. He had to decide what to do about Ruby. If he had failed his brother (the world) so absolutely that he was literally in bed with his enemies, he had to do what he could to make it right before he allowed himself the inner collapse he felt coming.

His whole body carried the dull ache he got when he went too long without her blood. The blood that made him powerful, that would let him kill Lilith. As Azazel’s blood had opened the door, so Ruby’s flung it wide. Azazel, Lilith... Ruby.

Dean.



Chapter Three:

Remember everything I told you,
keep it in your heart like a stone
And when the winds have blown things ‘round and back again
what was once your pain will be your home
~Everything In Its Own Time, Indigo Girls

Sam was sitting in the motel room with the lights off three days later when he heard the knock on the door. He didn’t bother moving, and a few minutes later, Ruby walked in anyway, completely undeterred by the lock.

“What are you doing in the dark, Sam?” she asked quietly, not bothering with the exasperated or flirtatious tones she usually used with him. Something major had changed between them and it filled the room with a tangible tension.

“Seems like I’ve been in the dark a lot lately, Ruby.”

She pushed the door closed and leaned against it, her dark eyes wary. “If you have questions, Sam, all you have to do is ask.”

“No. No questions.” He smiled at her, tight and unfriendly. “I’ve just decided that I don’t want to be a part of whatever plans you and Lilith have cooked up for me. I hope that’s okay with you and all; not that I give a damn if it isn’t.”

“Sam, I don’t--” Ruby began with a surprised expression, taking a step toward him with her hand outstretched. He threw his own hand out and she froze as the slight prickling of his power began to sink into her.

“Don’t you fucking lie to me, Ruby. I had a visit from a goddamned angel. So don’t you even dare try to lie to me tonight. And don’t you even think of getting near me again.”

Ruby dropped her arm and set her hands on her hips. Sam’s rage and betrayal swirled in the air between them; she tasted its tempering and found no chinks she could worm back through. Whatever information Sam had been given had well and truly gutted her hold on him.

Which was why she always had a backup plan.

“That might be harder than you think, Sam,” a mix of sultriness and arrogance in her smirk. “The closeness thing, anyways. Not, you know, if you want to live and all. It would be a shame just to toss your life away. Not after everything big brother did to save it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Sam demanded angrily. The biting edges of his psychic grip tightened a bit, but his anger cost him focus and he was several days into withdrawal; she didn’t feel she was in any particular danger.

“Maybe you should explain more clearly what you’re talking about first, Sam. You’re the one having the meltdown. I just showed up.” She strode over to one of the beds and sprawled on its edge, the picture of unconcern, but tense beneath the rippling edge of his rage; there was more at risk here than Sam’s questionable ability to banish her.

Sam lowered his hand slowly, watching her. “He said Lilith is the final Seal, Ruby. You’ve been so helpful, making me strong, keeping me focused, and all of it to betray everything my family has fought and died for. What my brother died for. You have anything to say about that?”

“It’s your destiny, Sam,” Ruby said, trying for gentle and persuasive. “There isn’t anything you can do to escape it. I just thought I could make things... a little easier for you.”

“Oh, God,” Sam breathed, like a prayer. “It’s true.”

“God, Sam?” Ruby stood up and paced, agitated. “Where was God when your dad was making deals with demons to save your brother’s life? Where was God when Dean was being ripped apart by Hellhounds? When the Hell Gate was opened? When the first Seal broke? At every Seal, the angels are getting their collective asses kicked!” She stopped in front of him and leaned down, her arms braced on the sides of his chair. “Face facts, Sam. God doesn’t care about this world anymore, if he even exists at all. But we have a god too, and he will reward his faithful when we free him from his prison.” Her eyes were alight with fervor. “He will be so grateful, Sam. Anything you want will be yours. You want Dean off the rack? This is the only way it flies.”

Sam’s face was turned away, his breathing ragged. Ruby leaned in until her lips almost touched his ear, her breath hot when she spoke in a near whisper.

“And all you have to do, Sam, is kill Lilith. The evil bitch who had your brother dragged to Hell. And you win.”

She stepped back to appraise him. Sam still wouldn’t look at her.

“I want you to leave, Ruby.” He swallowed, his knuckles white where he clutched the chair arms. “I want you to leave and never come back.”

She crossed her arms. “No can do, Sam. I leave, you die. Not gonna happen.”

“I got along just fine without you. And I think I’ve had more than enough of your fucking help!”

“Oh, I don’t mean killed by monsters, I mean like in a couple of days.” At his uncomprehending look, she sighed. “Headaches, Sam? Aches, pains, exhaustion? Your little withdrawal symptoms when you haven’t had any of my blood in awhile? Those are fatal if you go long enough.”

“No,” he whispered.

“Yeah, sorry. I wanted to trust you, but Lilith thought we needed something a little more... binding. Looks like she wins this time. It wasn’t that easy of a spell to set either, and man,” Ruby laughed, “I thought I was a witch? You wouldn’t believe the crap Lilith can dream up. This one is all sex and blood, and it’s deep, Sam. You can’t set a spell this deep without the target’s permission. It goes down to your soul.”

“I never gave you permission to cast anything on me!” He jumped up and took a step towards her, but stumbled and caught himself on the edge of the bed.

“Sure you did. I offered you sex, and you accepted. That gave me the first hook, and once you were all comfortable with that, I offered you blood, and you accepted that too. Spell set. I mean really, Sam,” she said, holding up her hands in a pacifying manner. “You knew I was a demon, demons make deals. This one may have had a little less discussion around it than most, but I gave you sex and power. Did you think that was for nothing?”

Sam was sitting on the bed, watching her with terrifying stillness. “What does it do, this spell?”

Ruby didn’t trust his calm, and made sure she was well out of his reach. She was fond of her current body and repair work was a bitch.

“You’re addicted to me.” Her smile held a satisfied edge. “It’s a trinity of elemental ties. Sex, blood, power; the unbreakable chains of Hell. You have to drink some of my blood every so often, and when you do... Well, I think we’ve been at this long enough for you to have a good grasp on what comes next. Or maybe who.”

Sam put his head in his hands.

“Get out, Ruby. I don’t ever want to see you again.” He sounded totally defeated.

She frowned. “You don’t mean that, Sam. I just explained that you can’t walk away from me.”

“Or I die?” He raised his face to look at her. “You really think I wouldn’t rather die than help you free Lucifer into the world?” he asked incredulously.

“Not like this, Sam,” she said seriously. “You don’t want to die like this.”

“It can’t be worse than what Dean faced.”

“It can be a lot slower,” she snapped.

He laughed without humor. “The only reason I don’t just destroy you on the spot is that I actually can’t right now.”

“You’ll change your mind, Sam.” Her eyes were only human dark, but sharp as she watched him. “When the pain starts to seriously set in, you’ll change your mind.”

“I really don’t think I will.”

She shrugged and walked to the door. “You have my number. I’ll be waiting for your call.”



Chapter Four:

i said darkness into darkness

all the carnage of my journeys
makes it harder to be living
he said it’s a long road to be forgiven
~Chickenman, Indigo Girls

The slam of a car door startled Bobby out of a sound sleep. Cars even getting close to the yard should have woken him, but since the news about Dean, he’d been throwing back a few more than he probably should. Good way for a hunter to get himself dead, but sometimes pain had to be dulled. As many months as it had been, though, it was maybe time to start thinking about putting the bottle back.

Bobby wrestled his clothes on, slid a large silver blade into the back of his pants and headed for the front door, grabbing a loaded shotgun off a table along the way. Through the window, he could see the Impala cooling in the pre-dawn air and frowned. Sam had been pretty damn clear about how much he wanted Bobby’s help last time they had spoken --not at all-- right before he vanished with that demonic bitch. Nothing but rumors had surfaced of the boy since then. He certainly hadn’t bothered picking up his phone.

Bobby opened the door slowly. Sam was leaning heavily against the porch rail, Rumsfeld at the end of his chain whining and wagging for all he was worth. He couldn’t see the boy’s face, but he wasn’t standing like he was well.

“Sam?”

“Hey, Bobby,” Sam answered, sounding exhausted. He was looking down like he couldn’t even manage to lift his head, leaving his face shadowed from the security lights. “Didn’t mean to crash in on you, I just... didn’t know where else to go.”

Bobby took a few steps closer and could see that the hands gripping the rail were trembling.

“You bring the demon with you, Sam?” Bobby asked warily, scanning the yard.

“No.” Sam gave a breathless laugh. “We, uh, had a parting of ways.”

“You finally notice she was from Hell?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He swallowed and looked at Bobby, the movement slow like it was taking great effort. “Can I grab your couch for a few days? Not feeling so well.”

Which must have been an understatement. He looked half dead, or more.

“Jesus, Sam. What the hell have you been up to?” Bobby demanded.

“Little of this, little of that. Angels, demons, burying my brother. You know how it goes.” A shuddering breath. “I’m not actually sure how much longer I can stand here, Bobby. It’s been a rough couple of days. Either let me in or tell me no so I can go crash in the car.” Sam’s knees buckled and his grip on the rail slipped.

Bobby cursed and grabbed for Sam before he sank onto the porch. From the way Sam looked, if he went down, it wasn’t either one of them that was going to get him back on his feet. Bobby got a shoulder in Sam’s armpit and an arm around his waist.

“Sam, c’mon now. Just a few feet to the couch. A few more and I can stuff you in a real bed.”

Sam didn’t respond, but did what he could to support his own weight. Which wasn’t really enough for Bobby’s aching joints.

“I don’t suppose it occurred to you to give me a call before you showed up here and scared me half to death, did it?” There was no reply as Bobby maneuvered them through the cluttered house and into a small bedroom. He eased Sam down onto the ancient twin mattress and stepped back.

“Sorry,” Sam mumbled. “Remembered how much you said you liked surprises.”

It took Bobby a moment to even remember the question he had asked, he was so relieved to not be hauling Sam’s practically dead weight around anymore.

He eyed his unexpected houseguest critically. Sam had flopped one arm over his face to shield his eyes from the overhead light.

“I’m gonna get you something to drink; you have any injuries that need to be looked at before you pass out?”

A vague noise sounded negative, so Bobby went to get a glass of water.

Holy water to be sure, but it was still wet.

~~~~~~~

“Sam.”

“No, Bobby.”

“Sam, have you really thought about this?” Bobby asked from the kitchen doorway.

Sam was sitting on the floor, slumped against the wall. Stacks of Bobby’s occult books surrounded him; one thick, dusty tome spread open on his lap. He was so weak, he couldn’t stand on his own without leaning heavily on something, and was wracked with tremors. It had been two days since he had showed up on Bobby’s doorstep. Sleep had helped shore him up a little, but his condition was still obviously deteriorating.

“Have you really thought about it, Bobby? About what you’re asking me to do?” Sam asked without looking up from the pages.

“I’m not asking you to do anything, boy,” Bobby huffed, exasperated. “I just want to make sure you’ve really considered all the angles.”

Sam looked up, irritated. “What angle do you think I’ve missed in this, Bobby? The part where I drink a demon’s blood, or the part after that where I have sex with it?”

“You didn’t seem to have any problem with that before you found out the Hell-bitch was, to everyone’s wild surprise, lying to you!” Bobby snapped.

Sam flinched.

“I can’t do anything about the past, Bobby. God, don’t you fucking think if I could change the past, I would?” He slammed one hand onto a stack of books and watched them scatter across the floor.

Bobby took a deep breath. “All I’m saying is that Dean died for you. He went to Hell for you, Sam. For his brother. So you could live. And now,” Bobby sighed, “now, I don’t know. It seems like you’re just going to throw that away because you’re feeling a little… betrayed.”

“What part of ‘she’s working with Lilith to make me break the last Seal, free Lucifer, and kick off the Apocalypse’ are you not getting here, Bobby?” Sam asked incredulously.

“She tried to use you, boy. Use her back!” Bobby stepped over the books and sank onto the low couch. “You know what her game plan is now; as long as you don’t let her call the shots or listen to a damn thing she says, you should be able to come to some sort of arrangement.”

“Why in the world would Ruby agree to any deal like that? She was driving me to hone my skills so I could kill Lilith. I can’t imagine she’s going to hang around bleeding for me if she’s not getting anything out of it.”

Bobby smiled slyly. “Demons are nasty roaches. And if a roach is good at any anything, it’s surviving. You said that right now you were the only person even close to being able to break the last Seal, and Ruby slipped up and lost you. I can’t imagine Lilith is any kind of pleased with her for that.”

Sam nodded slowly, staring distantly at the far wall, a glimmer of a plan forming in his mind, but he squashed it abruptly. “It’s not enough, Bobby. This is the fate of the world; I can’t gamble that I won’t slip up and do something even unconsciously that will help her. We are talking about the Apocalypse.”

Bobby snorted derisively. “Nice to see your humble nature is reasserting itself. The fate of the world? The Apocalypse? C’mon, Sam. You said yourself that in a few years they will have figured out what ol’ Yellow Eyes was up to and be raising a whole new crop of baby psychics to use. At worst, you speed the process up a bit.”

“At worst, I free Lucifer!”

“Meanwhile,” Bobby raised his voice over Sam, “you could be working on a way to stop them. Working on a way to get some of your own back for what they’ve cost your family. To make sure some of those doomed kids actually get to live normal lives.”

“A way to free Dean,” Sam added softly, looking back down at his lap. He missed the grief that washed over Bobby’s face.

“Yeah, Sam. A way to help Dean,” he confirmed quietly.

Sam raked his fingers through his hair. “I need some time. I have to think about it, Bobby. What you’re suggesting... it’s not a simple thing.”

“I know that, Sam. If the situation was really as you say, I’d be handing you the knife and wishing you bon voyage, probably. But your dying doesn’t change a damn thing right now, just gives us a few more years. Alive, you might be able to make a real difference, help us find a way to get out from under Lucifer’s boot before he puts it across all our throats.”

~~~~~~~

Bobby stomped into the house, making a point of giving anyone inside plenty of warning he was home. The door was locked, but the Devil’s Trap inside the entrance had been altered. One side of the circle had been scraped off, and carefully redrawn in chalk. He would have to fix that later. He found Sam in the kitchen.

“You don’t have to wash all those; they’ve been piling up longer than you’ve been here. Maybe longer than you’ve been alive,” Bobby said dryly.

Sam waved one soapy hand in his direction without turning around. “I don’t mind. Needed something to do.”

Bobby eyed him critically. Standing at all was an improvement, and there was no sign of the shaking or pain. “Company all gone?”

“A few hours ago.”

“You’ve not washed enough dishes for it to have been that long.”

“I took a nap for awhile.”

“So I take it everything went… well, then,” Bobby said, sinking onto one of the kitchen chairs. Sam nodded.

“She wasn’t happy, but I think we reached an agreement.” He rinsed his hands off and grabbed two beers from the fridge before joining Bobby at the table.

Bobby accepted one of the cold bottles and raised a brow. “Well, don’t sit on the details, spill already!”

Sam’s smile was grim but pleased. “She gives me what I need to stay alive, and I don’t go out of my way to die. Apparently, Lilith was pretty unhappy with my change of plans. I get the impression the only reason Ruby is still around at all is on the off chance she can lure me back.”

“Told ya,” Bobby grunted.

“Seriously, though, Bobby. I’m not safe here. This thing with Ruby has bought me a little time, but she’s going to get bored sooner or later and then all bets are off. The only way she’s going to worm her way back into Lilith’s good graces is to deliver me on a plate. There isn’t anything Ruby can say that will make me work with her, but I can’t promise...” Sam drew a deep breath and blew it out. “I don’t know what will happen if Lilith or some of the other demons get their hands on me; I don’t know how far they can twist me. Every minute I’m alive puts the world at risk.”

“Sam--”

“It’s true, Bobby,” Sam said flatly, cutting him off. “It’s true and you know it.”

“There has to be some other answer.”

Sam drummed his nails nervously on the table. “I may have an idea. I need to think through it a little more, and then make some calls.”

“Am I gonna like this plan of yours?”

“I’ll be alive, out of Lilith’s reach, and in a position to work towards trying to fix some of this mess.” Sam’s smile was a little more genuine. “Most importantly, I won’t be squatting in your basement anymore.”

“Well, I won’t say I’ll be sorry to not be chaperoning demonic booty calls anymore,” Bobby said dryly, “but you don’t have to go, Sam. We can work something out.”

“No,” Sam said firmly. “If I’m going to do this, it’s going to have to be my way.”



Chapter Five:

i was on the road to Austin
met a man on the highway
he sold me junk and conversation
he was wise and dirty from the weather
~Chickenman, Indigo Girls

A week later, Bobby was casting bullets in the living room when Sam came upstairs for the first time in three days.

“You’re turning pasty white, boy. A few more days and I might mistake you for a vampire,” was Bobby’s greeting.

“I put the dishes in the kitchen. Thanks for bringing the food down.”

Bobby grunted and continued fiddling with the mold. After a few minutes, Sam hadn’t said anything and Bobby looked up to see him still standing in the doorway, watching him. “You want to grab a seat and help, or just keep blocking the good light?”

Sam moved to a rickety stool on the other side of the table and picked up a bullet absently. “Silver?”

“Werewolves seem to be running in packs a ways up north. Can’t go help myself, so this is the next best thing.”

“Can’t go help because you don’t want to leave me alone here.”

Bobby eyed him critically for a moment, then turned back to his work. “I think suicide is a bit premature at this point; doesn’t mean I trust the wards around this place to keep your fan club from dragging you out through a wall while you’re taking a shower.”

Sam nodded.

“You would have to prepare a place from the bare ground to the rafters and all through construction to get that kind of safety,” Bobby muttered, focusing his attention back on his work.

After a few more minutes of silence, Bobby dropped the mold with a clunk and turned to face him directly. “You got something on your mind, Sam?”

“I need you to go get something for me, Bobby. It shouldn’t take more than two or three days. I can stay in the panic room the entire time.”

“This have something to do with all the phone calls you’ve been making?”

“Yeah. I need some of Dad’s stuff from the storage lock-up.”

“His hunting stuff?”

“Some of it.”

“Mind if I ask what for?” Bobby asked dubiously. “I don’t recall him having anything in there that would make a dent in a demon. ‘Less you hit it over the head, I suppose.”

“It’s what you said about not being safe here--”

“You’re safer here than anywhere else I know of!” Bobby snapped.

“--because there is only so much you can do to secure an existing structure,” Sam finished.

“What are you thinking?”

“Something Bela said during that mess with the rabbit’s foot got me thinking. The biggest problem with just building a secure place is that it would cost an obscene amount of money. hunters don’t have that kind of cash; certainly, I don’t. But Bela made a killing buying and selling what she could swipe.” He paused; this was the part Bobby wasn’t going to like. “I’ve got access to an entire collection of relics and charms that I certainly won’t be using in the field. I don’t have to steal them, I just have to find buyers for them.”

“Most of that stuff your Daddy locked up is damn dangerous, Sam.”

“Most of it. But there is plenty there that’s perfectly fine to be out in the world! Dream-catchers, divining rods, collections of herbs and all sorts of crap that isn’t doing me any good.”

“It could do other hunters a lot of good, if you’ve a mind to get rid of it,” Bobby said darkly.

“Keeping Lilith from being able to use me to free Lucifer will do other hunters a lot of good too,” Sam said pointedly.

“You got me there.”

“I’ve made some calls. The amounts of money out there for even piddling junk, Bobby,” Sam shook his head. “I can afford to build myself a castle ten times over.”

“So you want me to go pick up a trunk full of the most benign of the lot and let you hock it on eBay?” Bobby raised an eyebrow.

“Pretty much.” Sam put the bullet down and flattened his hands on the table. “In between calls, I’ve been doing research. I think I can build a house that will keep out almost anything, especially anything demonic.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know yet. And I also don’t know how I’m going to be able to do what needs to be done during construction when I have to live in your basement. When I was thinking this up, I never imagined that cash would be the least of the problems!” He slumped a bit, staring at the bullet.

“You need to hire someone who knows about what’s really out in the world to do your scouting and your building for you,” Bobby mused.

“That would be nice, but I don’t know any hunters in the construction business.”

Bobby gave him a look. “Good thing we aren’t just limited to what you know, now ain’t it?”



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