This story is written by Alterra von Feures and myself as a part of our alternate re-telling of Supernatural.
Set after the end of Season 2. Dean and Sam goes after a creature that kills and feeds on young women. But, as Sam discovers, things get a bit more complicated than that when he finds himself attracted to one of the would be victims.
“The church?” Sam repeated.
“Yes… why?” she asked with curiosity.
“Oh nothing”, Sam breathed, giving her a warm smile. It always seemed weird things happened when churches came into the picture, he thought to himself.
He sifted onto the road wondering where Dean was as he put the little care through the paces. He didn’t like being separated long as of late… not since… He shook his head.
“What’s bothering you Sam?” Stormy asked. “You seem so preoccupied.”
He squeezed her hand with a smile. “Nothing really Stormy, just been a long night is all.” He sidestepped her question carefully, no way was he even going there.
It wasn’t long before the road began curving and a large building came into looming clarity.
“Is this it? This where you live?” He asked as he pulled into the deserted church drive. Something was beginning to buzz at the base of his skull and he felt something wasn’t quiet right.
“My uncle is the priest”, she said then laughed at his stunned face.
They got out of the car and looked up at the church. Sam seemed reluctant to move any closer to it.
“I thought you said you were catholic”, he said.
“I am”, Stormy said. “Most people around here are. Mansion was founded by Welsh immigrants at the beginning of the 19th century…” Her voice trailed off. They had reached the gates that lead into the graveyard that surrounded the church.
The tingling feeling that things were amiss grew stronger and Sam stopped, forcing Stormy to stop with him.
“What’s wrong”, she whispered. She could sense it too; a thickness in the air. The mist whirled around them.
“We should get back into the car”, Sam started to say but he never got to finish the sentence. In front of his eyes Stormy grew impossibly pale. She turned to him, her eyes large and frightened.
“Help…” she managed. “Can’t… breathe…” Her hand flew up to her throat and squeezed the dainty silver cross as if hoping God would save her. But God wasn’t there, only Sam Winchester.
“Stormy!” He caught her just as her eyes rolled back in the skull until only a sliver of the iris was seen. Lowering her gently to the ground he looked around wild eyed, but saw nothing.
The thickness in the air increased and took on an oiliness that made him gag.
“Get back!” He managed, showing his hand into his pocket, pulling out the Walter. The gun looked sinister in his hand. It was loaded with silver and salt.
At his feet Stormy’s body shook in convulsions.
Not knowing what else to do, Sam once again dug through the pocket of his jacket and retrieved his cell. He automatically clicked the speed dial.
Dean answered at once. “Sam where are you?”
“At the church”, Sam said. “Dean, I need-”
“Are you with Stormy?” Dean cut him off before he could finish the sentence.
“Get away from her right now, Sam! She’s the Fideal!”
This made Sam blink, but then he shook his head as if to clear it. “No, Dean, that’s not possible. She is wearing a silver cross. She needs help, Dean. Something is attacking her.”
“I’m on my way.”
Sam clicked him off, not bothering with goodbyes. The girl lay still now… so so very still.
“Stormy?” Sam kneeled by her said, hesitated then pressed his fingers against her throat trying to find a pulse. There was none. “No!” he almost screamed, frantically trying to make sure her airways were cleared.
Suddenly her eyes flew open, and there was nothing of the sweet girl in their tomoultus depths.
“Boy…” She whispered, and her voice was the swell of the sea. The she… itscreamed, hands flying up to tear at the cross and the silver chain. Through the screams the thing inside Stormy’s body hissed:”Tell my wretched sister that we are tied together with the same bond!”
Then Stormy’s body slumped back onto the ground. The thickness in the air disappeared and the mist stopped whirling.
Sam bent over the still body, trying to decide whether she lived or had died when all of a sudden she arched her back, sucking in air in deep gasping mouthfuls.
Sam jerked back, gun aimed at her, but when she tried to speak he lowered it and returned to her side. There was nothing of the Fideal in her voice now, nothing of it in the blue eyes that looked up at him filled with fear and confusion.
“I’m here”, he said, cupping her cheeks with his hands. “Just try and breath slowly.”
“What… happened?” She managed. “I… it was as if I… died… I could see myself lying on the ground… What happened, Sam?”
“Ah hell, Stormy… I mean I don’t know how to say this…” Her wide eyes made him want to lie, but it would be wrong. He stroked her cheek gently trying to calm her.
“Uh, have you ever been able to see ghosts or talk to them… you know any of that stuff?” Sam asked candidly. “Those with a connection are easier fare for the spirit world”, he said gently.
He helped her sit up as she stared at him like he was crazy. “What are you getting at Sam?” Her voice going breathless again as she looked at him like she never seen him before, “I mean it was like I left my body… No! No!” She waved her hands for a frantic moment. “Something pushed me out…” Her hand flew to her mouth in utter disbelief.
“What was it Sam? Why do I believe you know what it was? You even started up before it…” She looked shocked, pulling away from Sam.
“No, Stormy… No it wasn’t me”, Sam started softly, lamely as she managed to scramble to her feet.
“My God, there is something wrong with you isn’t there?” She was getting hysterical as Sam stood slowly, moving towards her like one would a frightened animal.
“Stay away! Just stay away!” She screeched, clutching the tiny cross like it was some kind of a lifeline.
“Stormy, please… please…” Sam held out his hand. “It’s not me …” He trailed as she turned and fled towards the warm lights of a small house behind the church.
Sam ripped angry fingers through his hair, shaking his fists angrily in the air. “God damn it!” He hissed.
Turning he found himself looking at a breathless Dean.
“Don’t, Dean.” He rasped angrily. “Don’t tell me it wouldn’t have worked anyway… Don’t tell me I’ll get over it. Don’t…” He turned away from his brother to swipe angry tears form his face. Tears he did not want Dean to see. Did not think he understood.
“Sammy…” Dean said, following a few steps behind as his gangly little brother stalked away. “Talk to me, Sammy.”
But Sam only shook his head, refusing to even look at his brother. Dean quickened his steps, reached up and grabbed Sam by the collar of his jacket.
Anger welled up inside of the youngest of the Winchester boys. Anger for the unfairness of his legacy, for his mother’s death and Jenny’s. For his father, who had chosen a life of vengeance. For the sheer panic in Stormy’s eyes when she thought he had been the one who attacked her.
He turned around, hands curled into fists and in blind rage he swung at his brother. And hit. The sensation of his fist connecting with flesh gave him an awful feeling of satisfaction.
Then a strong arm wrapped itself around his neck, quick sure feet kicked his legs away from under him and he ended up on the ground, unable to move, held down by Dean.
“That’s enough!” There was no mistaking the commanding tone in his brother’s voice. “Tell me what happened.”
“Oh, so now you want to talk…” Sam managed to drawl. Dean pushed the knee he held pressed down on Sam’s back a little harder and was rewarded with a groan of pain.
“Tell me what happened to the girl.”
Sam relaxed somewhat. “The Fideal attacked her. It pushed her spirit out of her body and tried to possess it… but it couldn’t stay because of the silver.”
“So…” Dean thought out loud. “Silver canharm it.” He released his grip on his brother and flipped nimbly to his feet. “Get up, Sammy. We have to go back to the motel and check out what dad wrote about this thing.”
Sam scrambled to his feet more slowly. “I have to go to her, Dean. I have to try to explain-”
“She wont listen to you.” Dean’s voice was soft and compassionate. “I’m sorry, Sammy.”
“Uncle!” Stormy screamed, tears streaming down her face as she ran down the hallway to his study.
Father Thomas stepped out, opened his arm to his niece as she flung herself towards him. “Stormy, my dear child! What’s happened?”
“Oh, it was awful!” She sobbed, burying her face at the crook of his neck, breathing in the calming and familiar smells of his aftershave, tobacco and coffee. “Someone… some thingattacked me! I couldn’t breath!”
“Oh, sweet heart”, Thomas said, cupping her face between his hands so that he could look her in the eyes. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
Stormy did so, slowly calming down. The tears subsided and she gazed up at her uncle, waiting for him to speak.
Finally he did, “I don’t think it was the boy who did this to you. Tell me, Stormy, and tell me the truth. Have you had any more dreams about the man with the yellow eyes?”
Stormy shook her head.
“Are you sure?” Father Thomas prompted.
The girl nodded. “I have had dreams… strange dreams, but not about him.”
“Okay, that’s good.” Thomas pressed a kiss on his niece’s forehead. “Wash up and get to straight into bed. I’m sure you will feel much better in the morning.”
Stormy nodded again and stepped out of her uncle’s embrace. She was halfway up the stairs when he called after her, “Don’t forget to say your prayers.”
“I won’t”, Stormy replied then continued up to the second floor.
Father Thomas returned to his study. He locked the door behind him.
Sam got into the tiny cars driver seat silently after Deans last remark. He stared straight ahead as Dean got in. His older brother looking at him grimly.
“Sammy_” Dean started
“Haven’t you ever loved anyone and just wanted to be with them without having it become complicated because of this life Dad forced us to live, Dean?” Sam asked the question with a painful longing all too familiar to Dean.
“Yeah sure, Sammy, but unlike you I didn’t have any choice… None.” Dean said quietly now staring out the window too.
“What the hell does that mean?” Sam ground out, turning greying eyes to his brother.
Dean slumped into the seat returning the look with steely green eyes of his own. “It means I got no timeout. It means I spent my growing years watching out for you… it means I didn’t have a life, only what Dad had me do every day, Sammy.” His words were soft yet hard as steal.
“I didn’t ask for our life, Dean.”
“Neither did I. But this is what it is and there’s no going back now.” Dean held his gaze.
Sam’s jaw clenched as they looked at each other. “You love this life and don’t deny it.”
“It’s all I know, Sammy …” he said more softly. “And now that dads gone it’s pay back time, so how about losing the tears and lets kick some ass?” His words felt like electric jolts to Sam’s senses as something dark and angry shone out of his brother’s eyes.
“Sure, Dean.” Sam’s voice went hoarse as he fired up the tiny motor driving back down the foggy road. They hadn’t gone far when a herd of bleating sheep flooded the deserted road.
Sam road the brake stopping before nailing one of the terrified critters. “What’s got them…” They exchanged glances killing the motor they pulled guns moving out and around the miniature stampede.
“You do realize these guns wont work on a poltergeist”, Sam breathed close to Dean’s side.
‘I got that covered”, Dean mumbled stopping Sam in his tracks as bleating white bodies shuffled past them.
“What are you not telling me, Dean?” Sam demanded already edgy and nerve raw as the sheep grew more anxious, milling across their path.
Father Thomas smiled as he lit the black candles laid forth over a small table.
He did the incantation bringing a hot fetid wind across the room, the candles flickering, the soft white hair at his brow ruffling.
“It is almost time”, he murmured lifting the Athame, calling the Demon that was his familiar.
“The virgin sacrifice is yours when ready, my lord.” He smiled as the wind settled and a familiar presence filled the room.
He felt pain, sudden pain as he was struck to the floor.
“She is a virgin no more, you have failed me in this“, a deep terrible voice filled his head to aching.
“That can’t be!” Thomas spat falling to bended knee. “How could she have… who?”
“Her life is still of value. She is still one of the chosen and one of the others is near, so very near. Things have changed and this is what you will do…”