Work Text:
(A Madness Shared by Two)
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"Got a hunt for you Bobby," Thomas called in. "I'm getting together some guys…"
"I don't hunt anymore," Bobby sighed, about to put down the phone.
"It's demons."
Bobby paused. "Go on. I'm listening."
Thomas was probably smiling smugly at that point. "There's a little gang hanging around Wyoming near the Hell Gate. From the black eye screaming at me as I exorcised it there are meant to be some pretty powerful high-ups hanging around there."
The grizzled hunter sighed. "How many?" he asked.
"A lot... I've called up a couple of guys I know but you're the best in the business when it comes to demons. I heard you were hunting down that white-eye Lilith with the Winchester brothers." there was a pause the other end of the phone. "That was before the pair of them dropped off radar. The black-eye seemed to think these high-ups might know about them."
"I'm in," Bobby spat out, not thinking, mind too wrapped up in 'those goddamn Winchesters'. The brothers had barely been gone for two years and already they were hunting legends.
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(A man walked into a bar. Ellen smiled at them from across the counter of her new Roadhouse, right up until the moment the man leaned forwards towards his friends and said, "Hey… did you hear that the Winchesters managed to kill a demon?"
"Hey, did you hear how the Winchesters were there when the hell gates opened?"
"Apparently Sam Winchester is the reason Kubrick and Walker aren't around anymore."
"So according to rumour the younger one died and then his brother made a deal with demons to bring him back to life."
"Their father was hunting something. Dragged his boys right into the life."
"Heard they aren't dead, are still out there somewhere, hunting…")
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Bobby put down the phone with a sigh. He was sick of the rumours, but he would never lower himself to spreading the story. Of how a brother stood at a crossroads and sold his soul. Of how the other one stood at the same crossroads a year and two months later, his brother’s necklace at his chest, and was never seen again.
"The Winchesters are dead," Bobby would remind anyone who would listened.
But the rumours lived on.
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The demons seemed to have found a bar to take over, laughing raucously at the table with drinks. Bobby lowered his binoculars, sighing. "They don't look like the bosses," he said to Thomas, a middle aged hunter who usually liked to hang out in Canada.
"Well, they are there," the guy assured him as the people in the other truck begun collecting up mats with devil's traps drawn into them. Bobby recognised Roy and Walt hanging around with flasks of holy water. He saw Ellen too, handing out salt-loaded shotguns.
He glanced back through the lenses to the bar. At that moment some demon chose to stride in from around the back, snarling something to the others.
Bobby had never seen demons react so quickly, the ten or so at the bar freezing instantly, their faces alight with fear and rapture as they looked to the new arrival. The demon's meat suit was a dark haired man, around 5'10 with green eyes. As Bobby watched the green eyes blinked, colour switching. When he opened them again they were burning hellfire, mottled red and black and orange, as if fire was dancing within them.
From the door behind the red-eye, a lithe woman slipped out, dark hair and the same shape green eyes as the other one. She stopped by his side, tilting her head to watch the red-eye as he spoke instructions to the black-eyes.
She blinked.
Her eyes blazed hell fire, yellow flames and black chasms.
Bobby felt something catch in his throat. The only yellow-eyed demon he'd ever heard of was the one that stalked the Winchesters. That same demon had been killed though, by the Colt, three years ago.
"Got 'em," Thomas grinned wolfishly. He spoke into the radio, "Okay guys, we're moving in. Aim for the colour eyes."
Bobby had never been in a group of other hunters before. He'd teamed up with Rufus and Jim. Helped John once on a hunt and never did again. Helped out Sam and Dean from afar… he was impressed with how efficient the guy were as they moved in, covering all exits so that the demons didn't know what hit them.
Unfortunately the pair of demons in the centre didn’t panic like the black-eyes did. The red-eyed male curled his lip as he drew a knife, whispering something to his partner before stalking towards Walt and Roy. The girl laughed, her own eyes flashing as she swept her hand and sent hunters crashing to the side, including Bobby and Thomas.
She strolled up to Thomas, hand at his collar as she yanked him up. Bobby was close enough to hear her talk to him, eyes a sick yellow hellfire. "So you thought you could what? Kill us? Where's the knife big boy? Where's the Colt?"
"Go to hell," Thomas spat blood in her face.
She laughed at him, "Already been. Didn't agree with me."
"We'll send you back there," he snarled, "Exorcizamus te…"
She flinched, but didn't drop him, "Please. In hell, we rule. We'll only be back." Tired of her game she threw him back against the wall and clenched her fist.
Thomas choked once, still coughing blood and then stilled.
"No!" Bobby hated seeing more people die to the demons, and forced himself up, throwing holy water at her. She flinched again, but didn't steam, even as she threw out one hand and he felt himself fly back, crashing into something hard as his limbs locked up, pinning him to the wall.
Yellow-eyes laughed as she strolled towards him. "Well this is a surprise. Bobby Singer. Didn't think you were hunting anymore?"
"I'll always hunt you evil sons of bitches," Bobby ground out.
The yellow-eyed demon laughed. "Even after what happened to your precious little Winchesters? The one ripped apart by hellhounds and the other ripped apart when he tried to rescue his brother."
Bobby stiffened, because even if he knew how Dean had died, Sam had just up and vanished after two months. There'd been no body, nothing, and Bobby had assumed the worst.
Yellow-eyes drew her own knife, and Bobby recognised it with shock. "Ruby?" he asked, but he had been sure the blonde bitch had black eyes.
"Oh her? Lilith’s little whore?" Yellow-eyes chuckled. "No, sorry, Ruby's dead. Was she a friend of yours? Like that little hunter? Like poor old Sam and Dean?" she smirked, eyes flashing from green to yellow and green again. "Poor old Bobby with no-one left…"
"Bobby!" someone called and the demon turned. Roy slammed into the table. Behind him Ellen was aiming a salt filled shotgun at the yellow-eyed bitch. It was yanked out her hands as the female demon turned. For a moment her eyes blazed hellfire before she blinked and they slid back to green, eyes sliding past as she spotted her companion, the red-eyed male, standing in a devil's trap.
"No!" she cried, taking a few steps forwards in alarm. "No! Brother!"
The red-eye spun, grinning sheepishly at her. "So… I uh… kind'a got stuck?" he joked.
“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…”
Bobby was still pinned to the wall as he begins to chant. Ellen joined in. The pair shifted uncomfortably but the yellow-eyes made no move to leave. He would have expected the female to run and leave, not stand and stare with horror at the trapped demon. She had called him 'brother' and Bobby knew from experience that demons built up their own families, like Azazel and Meg. Or there was the genuine possibility that they had been blood brothers. Apparently Sam and Dean had run into a demon couple once who had lived through hell together.
“No… no don’t leave me… you can’t leave me again… you jerk don’t you dare…”
“…omnis satanica potesta, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii…”
Yellow-eyes looked like she wanted to try and release her 'brother', the floor shaking. It was weakening though as the exorcism continued. The red-eye in the centre looked resigned to going back to Hell, calm and suave. "I'll race you there," he told her.
“…omnis legio, omnis congratio et secta diabolica….”
She glared at him, something that Dean would have called a bitch face and what would often be seen on Sam Winchester's face. Bobby felt another stoke of nostalgia and sadness but kept reciting the Latin.
“…Ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire…”
The exorcism wasn't even finished when she threw back her head, black smoke pouring out as the girl dropped to the ground. A minute later the man standing on the mat dropped too.
“…te rogamus, audi nos.”
Bobby slid down the wall, moving towards the girl who was miraculously still alive. She was blinking awake, as was the other guy who was possessed by Red-eyes. She coughed slightly and Bobby gave her some holy water to drink.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
She nodded weakly. "Is he gone?" she asked.
"He..?" Bobby had been acting under the impression the demon was female.
The girl looked to the guy. She looked scared.
"They're both gone. You're safe."
She relaxed. "He… he told me it had to be us. Because we were siblings…"
Ellen was helping the male up. "Siblings..? You're brother and sister?"
The once possessed girl nodded. "David's five years older than me. The demon… he and his brother…. They wanted their… meat suits…" she choked on the word. "He wanted them…us… related because they were related... They'd been through hell together."
"They didn't hurt us," the brother said, moving forwards to cradle his sister. "They made sure we weren't injured. They… they weren't nice… and I'd rather not be possessed by them but…" he glanced to his left where Roy managed to exorcise another demon and the meat suit dropped to the ground. Dead… "They were better than the other demons."
Ellen asked the questions. "Can you tell us anything about them? They must be pretty powerful."
The girl nodded. "The others were scared of them. They're the highest power in Hell I think." she shuddered, tears streaming down her face and Ellen wrapped a blanket she pulled from somewhere around the girl's shoulders.
"Let's get you to the car," she whispered, leading them away.
Bobby glanced around. Two hunters were dead including Thomas. The only meat suits that were still alive were the pair the demonic brothers had inhabited. But twelve demons had been sent back to hell. All in all it could have gone worse.
A lot worse…
Bobby looked for the knife before he left.
It wasn't there.
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Since the demon 'brothers' seemed to be the new up and comers in Hell, Bobby and Ellen tried to squeeze out any information they can. They fished out a black eye a few weeks later, and it was easier than it should have been.
The black eye didn't touch them and seemed to have no wish to.
It's about a month later, when Jo appeared, with the idea that the demons were avoiding her that Bobby got curious, and used his last resort.
"Really..?"
Crowley looked unimpressed at the devil's trap elegantly drawn around him. He was sipping some rich scotch as he looked around at Jo, Ellen and Bobby.
"Well?" he sighed, leaning back on one foot. "What is it you mutton heads want this time?"
"We want to know about the brothers," Jo said.
Bobby could see exactly when Crowley went from being confident and calm to terrified and nervous. "The hell-fire eyes... What's with that?" Bobby demanded.
Crowley sneered at him. "Red and Yellow..? They crawled out from the Chasm."
"The what..?" Ellen frowned.
"The Chasm, are you deaf?" the Crossroad king snapped. "It’s the pit where the fallen angels are trapped. The very same pit where Lucifer's cage lies…"
"Lucifer is real?" Jo asked in disbelief. Bobby was still too busy trying to process the idea of a pit with fallen angels…
"Angels are real?"
"What do you think?" Crowley sighed, as if he was talking to idiots.
"Are they fallen angels?" Ellen asked the right question to get the demon talking, despite his obvious reluctance.
The red-eye looked nervous. "No," he said after a pause. "They're just humans who ended up in the wrong place. Some do that. Most of the ones we lose down there don't reappear. That they crawled out of there it… well… the pair, they’re a force to be reckoned with. The last to crawl from the Chasm was Azazel and he was a fallen angel. Souls just don't come out of that black hole unscathed."
"What do you mean?" Jo asked, curiously, too damn curious for Bobby's liking.
Crowley took another drink. "In Hell time passes quicker than up here. It’s like dog years. Three days is a whole year down in the basement."
Bobby felt slightly sick and didn't want to work out how long Dean had been down there. His mind worked it out for him at around 250 years though regardless.
"In the Chasm though…" the Crossroad king continues, "Three days equals ten years. We think. No-one actually goes near the place. It might be longer. The Fallen tear you apart before long."
"Anything else..?" Bobby asked gruffly.
Crowley looked uneasy. "I'd to keep my head," he said. "The pair of them… they killed Lilith, did you know that? They ripped Alistair into shreds. I don't want to cross them. It so happens that I can work with them and keep my job because if I go against them…" he shuddered. "You three have a hands-off order surrounding you, did ya' know? We're not allowed to touch you on fear of being dragged back to hell to the racks."
"That's why the demons have been avoiding us," Jo realised, as Ellen leant down and broke the devil's trap. Crowley stepped out quickly. "Well if that is all I can do for you…"
"What are their names?" Jo asked, and Bobby had been wondering that too. "Even Yellow-eyes… Azazel… had a name. What are theirs?"
Crossroad King was gone though, ignoring the question, which means it was obviously one of the ones that would result in him losing his head.
The hunter wondered what kind of deep shit they were in now.
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Ellen and Jo stuck around with Bobby as they looked up about the new demons. They tracked down electrical storms to Kansas and found the pair again, new meat suits, both male this time. The one was a lanky blonde male with green eyes while the other was a similar height, with brown eyes and spiky brown hair. For a moment Bobby thought they’d found another pair of black-eyes.
"What is it with you people?" the blonde scoffed, and his eyes flashed red hellfire, erasing all doubts. These were them, both apparently in gender correct bodies. That meant his brother was the yellow-eyes, currently the slightly taller and buffer brunette. He’d been a female last time, and Bobby wondered if they had some sort of thing that determined they found siblings to possess, limiting their choices of the meat pool.
"You can't hurt us!" Jo threatened, wielding her shotgun. "We're protected against demons unless you want to be dragged to hell screaming."
The brunette demon moved forwards, gun ripped away psychically as Jo went flying backwards. "Look at me," he drawled, "I'm terrified."
Red-eyes laughed as he threw Ellen and Bobby back. "Come on!" he spread his hands, "Who do you think put out that order?"
Jo shuddered. "You… you crawled out the abyss. You run Hell now."
Red-eyes curled his lip. "Looks like Crowley got a little chatty."
"Why did you put out that order?" Bobby asked, struggling against the telekinesis.
Yellow-eyes laughed, "Why not? We've got soft spot for you." And it made Bobby uneasy, their casual interactions with them, as if they had met him before.
"It's a test." Red-Eyes explained. "It's true, we'd rather you didn't die, but it’s also a test. We wave forbidden fruit in front of the lower tier demons, and see if they respect us enough…"
"Fear us enough," Yellow-Eyes added with a leer.
"To obey our orders," his brother finished.
"So far so good," Gold eyes blinked and were back to hazel.
"Going to break your own rules?" Bobby challenged.
The pair glanced at each other, and in that single second seemed to have a whole conversation without speaking. "You're a waste of time," he stepped back, "We've got places to go, people to kill… just stay out of our way…" the blonde demon stepped towards his brother and the pair seemed about to try that teleporting thing he'd seen Crowley do, when there was a light breeze and the sound of wings. Red-eyes stiffened, whirling around. "Oh crap."
"Time to get out of here," his brother grabbed him. Bobby followed their gaze to a dark haired man in a suit and pale tan overcoat whose own blue eyes were staring at the demon brothers.
Red-eyes threw back his head, black smoke beginning to emerge when the new arrival threw out a hand and instead all that happened was that instead of smoking out in an emergency exit, the shorter brother choked and the smoke went nowhere.
The taller of the brothers flashed his eyes, stalking forwards. "Stop that!" he threatened.
Behind him Red-eyes straightened up, glancing once at the three pinned to the wall before glancing away. "Hey’a Castiel," he glanced at the new arrival. "Fancy seeing you again..."
The man - Castiel - looked pained. "I'm sorry," he said, "I was mean to raise you before this happened."
Red-Eyes stepped backwards, "Oh don't get your feathers in a twist," he laughed, but there was a note of fear to his voice. "Things probably worked out better this way than whatever little angelic plan you had."
"I am instructed to bring you back with me," Castiel announced gravely.
"No," Yellow-eyes shook his head. "Not a chance. You had your opportunity back in Hell, but you left us in there to rot."
Bobby struggled against the demonic hold, feeling it slip away as the brothers focused their attention at the apparently angelic arrival.
"This was not meant to happen," Castiel expressed, "It wasn’t the plan. The Winchesters were not meant to turn into demons."
There was a gasp from beside him, where Jo heard the name and reacted. “Winchesters?” she choked out. “Winchester?” she repeated.
Red-eyes glanced at them, lips curling into a wolfish smirk; his eyes flashing red and then green. For a moment he didn’t say anything, before seeming to decide something as he took a step towards them. "I know," he mocked, "We look brilliant don't we? Long-time no see guys." The cocky tone rang bells, and if only the voice had been different…
Bobby's heart was sinking, as he looked at the demonic brothers. That they were brothers should have given it away, if the yellow eyes of the younger hadn't been the biggest hint. Sam was even taller than his brother, although considering his last body was a slight female it wasn’t exactly a clue. Trust Dean though, to leave Sam to be the bitch out of the two of them.
"Sam? Dean?" he asked, and the yellow-eyed demon which must be Sam sighed.
"Now look what you did," he complained, glaring bitterly at Castiel, "We were enjoying anonymity so much!"
Castiel remained stoic. "Step away from them."
"Let us go or we snap their necks." Dean announced calmly.
"You wouldn't. They hold personal value to you. Something that proves that you can still be saved." That was why they were demonic forbidden fruit. That was why the red and yellow eyes kept letting them go.
For a moment Bobby felt a flash of hope, that Sam and Dean still cared… still remembered… then he recalled the red and yellow eyes which reflected their soul. He remembered the signs attracting them to this quiet town, brutal killings and missing people. He felt sick. He'd known Dean had been in hell. He'd known that someday a demon would crawl out with the name Dean, ready to burn down the world.
He'd never quite imagined it happening when he was still alive. He'd never quite pictured Sam with him.
The brothers were frozen and tense, stuck between two options. Bobby felt the psychic hold on him slip as he went tumbling to the ground. Then there were hands and a blade against his neck as Red-eyes… Dean held him at knifepoint. "We would," he announced cheerfully. "We learned from the best after all, down there in the abyss. Lucifer says 'hi' by the way."
Castiel flinched, actually flinched. "You work for Lucifer…" he breathed, wide eyed.
Bobby heard Jo let out a quiet sob. He’d listened to Crowley’s tale along with her, and at the time had imagined the demonic duo were those who deserved to be there. They were in hell, right, and deserved everything they got? Only a few months ago he’d sent them back happily to oblivion.
But to put identities to the demons… to think of Sam and Dean, the boys who were more his sons than they had ever been John’s sons… he’d sent them back to Hell, to Hell where they ruled, after crawling out of the pit where the fallen angels played. What remained of their souls must be torn and tattered wrecks. If three days was ten years then Sam and Dean had been down there over two millennia. Two millennia burning and dying every day, forever and ever… That they still even remembered they were brothers… or who Bobby and Ellen were…
Then again, it shouldn’t surprise him. Sam and Dean had always unnaturally close, and if anyone was going to take over Hell, it would be them.
"Work for…" Bobby could feel Dean's breath on his neck. "Why would we want to work for him after all those years he spent…" he shuddered, "He never shut up. All the time just screaming and clawing at his cage. Lilith might have been prepared to let him out to spread his madness up here but we like the earth as it is."
"So Lilith had to go," Sam sing-songed, spinning a knife in his hands as he stalked towards where Ellen and Jo were still pinned. "Apocalypses are fun and all but we don't really want to stick to the scripture."
"Let them go." Castiel death glared them. They both looked uneasy.
"Stand aside then Cass," Red-eyes… Dean tightened his fingers in Bobby's collar, blade dancing at his throat, scratching away skin and drawing patterns in the blood that welled there. He mocked the angel with the nickname, making the angel seem smaller and less intimidating.
The angel looked torn but stepped backwards. "Very well." he said, uneasily. "Leave. You are no use to Heaven as you are. Not now."
Yellow-eyes spun around, smirking. "So sorry to disappoint ya'… It kind of comes with being… y'know. Demons." he shrugged, yellow muted in the depths of his eyes, a golden version of his brother’s blood eyes.
The cold blade vanished from his throat and Bobby found himself sprawling in the dirt. He looked up, as Ellen and Jo slid down the wall. Castiel stared sadly at the empty spots where the demon brothers had stood.
Jo let out a dry sob. "Was that really… Sam and Dean..?"
"I'm sorry." Castiel told them. "The human souls you once knew as Sam and Dean Winchester no longer exist." he turned and began walking away. "Do not go looking for them." he told them over his shoulder. "I will not always be around to rescue you."
Then there was a swish of air and clothes and Bobby blinked. The angel was gone.
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Bobby didn't know how it got out. He might have blabbed about it while drunk… or maybe Jo or Ellen got too chatty with clients at their new Roadhouse, but either way the hunting community somehow found out that the new demon leaders were once Sam and Dean Winchester.
He felt like it was sullying their memories, when he heard others talking about the increase in demonic activity, all linked back to Red and Yellow. He'd looked up the significance of eye colours. When he said ‘looked up’ it roughly equated to torturing a demon with holy water.
The white-eyes were the ancients… the most powerful… the dukes of Hell. Apparently Lilith had been the first demon, while the Grand Inquisitor (Master Torturer) downstairs had been known as Alastair.
The red-eyes were the dealers… the salesmen… damning souls. Most were nameless crossroads demons, but Crowley ran the crossroads, king of all.
The black-eyes were the grunts… your standard issue demonic human soul. According to the demon there were some more powerful black-eyes. Meg had been mentioned, with the name she had adopted for the 21st Century, along with several who served Lucifer. The ‘Knights’ had all been hunted down by archangels though, long ago.
The yellow-eyes were the fallen angels… those that fell with Lucifer and were damned to his pit. Azazel had been a key player, and Bobby was glad to be able to put a name to the fire starter. He’d also found records of another yellow-eyed demon named Belial which had made it out sometime in the early 20th Century for some fun in Europe before some hunters named the Campbell’s had managed to trap him back in the pit.
Sam was tainted by the blood of Azazel while Dean was down there due to his crossroads deal. It spoke for the colours that mingled with the black, creating the mottled hellfire effect that flashed out, reflecting their very soul.
"Hey, did you hear about the Winchesters? Yeah, well they're demons now…"
"The older brother went to Hell and his sibling followed. Always knew there was something off about them."
Bobby wanted nothing more than to say what he had always said. "Sam and Dean were dead."
Except it wasn't true, and try as he might to deny it, Sam and Dean might have finally died, but like always they hadn't stayed dead. They'd come back and they'd brought all of hell up with them.
At Christmas he received two parcels. One was an old, ancient book about angelic and demonic lore. The other was Rufus Turner's head in a box.
With love S.W.D.W. was written on the single page found in both parcels.
He couldn't deny it any more after that.
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“What are you doing?”
Bobby thought that trapping them both in the same devil’s trap was pushing things a bit, but the angel had assured him that it would hold. The thing certainly looked complicated enough.
The ground shook slightly, cracks spider-webbing out faintly. The devil’s trap remained unbroken, despite the brunette’s best efforts, brown hazel eyes narrowed at those outside it. “What are you doing?” Sam snarled, pushing at the barricade surrounding them. It held firm.
Bobby pulled out his journal, preparing to read out the exorcism. He tried to ignore the way that the green eyed blonde moved to stand in front of his brother, a protective stance that even Hell hadn’t burnt away.
“Bobby? Don’t do this… just leave it alone? Can’t you do that? We’re not hurting anybody…” the lanky blonde stepped forward, eyes pleading. He was lying though… trying to play them. He was a demon and demons lied... “Bobby… you’re like a father to us…”
“Shut up!” Ellen stepped forwards to save Bobby from having to. “Don’t say a word or I’ll pump you full of rock salt.”
The demon that was Dean curled its lips, eyes sliding up in its head revealing red and black hell fire. “Go on then. Give it your best shot.”
Bobby opened his mouth to start reading when the nerdy dude in a trench coat stepped forwards. “Wait.”
He obeyed, still uneasy about working with the so-called angel. Castiel had approached them with a way to deal with the demon brothers. According to him, Heaven was backing off due to the lack of an imminent biblical Apocalypse. The way they saw it; no threat from Lucifer meant no need to interfere. Castiel however, who had been in the garrison to try and rescue Dean from Hell, had decided to stay to help.
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(“And why were you trying to rescue Dean from Hell?”
“The seals to break Lucifer’s cage…” the angel had told him gruffly, “The first seal and last seal are unchangeable. The first seal breaks as the righteous man sheds blood in Hell. For as he breaks, so shall it break. The last seal opens the cage, as the first demon dies. The first demon dies at the hands of the brother.”
Bobby had had to pause to take this in. “So what… Sam and Dean were destined to start the Apocalypse?”
Castiel looked grave. “The righteous man shall be the weapon of Heaven, the sword of Michael and the killer of Lilith, corrupted by evil, shall be the vessel of the Fallen… of Lucifer himself.”)
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Needless to say Bobby was glad the angels and demons were no longer manipulating Sam and Dean towards Armageddon, but he still wasn’t thrilled with the idea of what remained of the Winchesters playing the world to oblivion.
He still couldn’t reconcile the two strange people… meat suits… in front of him with Sam and Dean. The Red-eyed demon let his eyes slide back to green as he turned to look at Castiel. “Who invited the halo patrol?” he scoffed, but still looked wary.
He probably had reason to, Bobby figured. He and his brother had spent several millennia being torn apart by angels in that abyss. That and apparently listening to Lucifer scream.
He shuddered, and wondered, if he’d followed Sam on his venture to rescue Dean… if he’d gone down there with them and fallen into that same hole… would he have manage to cling together the way the brothers had? He’d seen demons who remembered less, their names stolen from their hosts, gifted by their worshippers…
Castiel paused, glancing towards the two demons in their chalk circle uncertainly. “I don’t… I am alone…” he responded, in obvious confusion.
Red-eyes cracked a grin. “Aw look at little Clarence,” he crooned to his brother.
Bobby sighed, hating the familiar lilt to the unfamiliar voice. “Can’t I just exorcise them?” Even that made him feel sick, the thought of uttering the words that would condemn Sam and Dean back to the Pit. They’d been down there a month or so last time. Ten years. Ten years more burning…
Or maybe by now, they just spent it ripping apart the other demons. They certainly had the reputation for it.
Castiel narrowed his impossibly blue eyes as he strolled towards the demons. Yellow-eyes raised his chin defiantly even as Castiel stopped the other side of the line, instead snatching up the brunette’s arm.
“Ow!” Yellow-eyes snatched back his limb within seconds, but was already supporting a burn mark marring the skin of his wrist. Looking alarmed Red-eyes stepped back but not fast enough. Bobby just managed to catch sight of the sigil tattooed into his wrist before it was burned away by the angel.
“Binding sigil,” Castiel turned back to Bobby. “Now you may read your exorcism.”
Bobby cleared his throat and began to read. “Regna terrae, cantante Deo…”
The pair actually looked annoyed for the first time since they’d been trapped in the devil’s trap by some clever manoeuvring and taunting. “Shame,” Red-eyes rolled his shoulders. “We went to so much trouble for these bodies. Do you know they’re clinically brain dead? They were in a car crash.”
“So we stepped in and saved them. ‘Cept now… you’re going to kill them. Can you do that Bobby? Kill two innocent people?”
“… psallite Domino qui fertis ascendit super caelum…”
“Aren’t you pissed… for when we killed Rufus? Surely you want a little bit of revenge for that?”
“We found his house. That little hideout of his..? Did he honestly think he was safe? That he could just stop being a hunter? You know as well as anyone that you don’t leave this life until you’re dead.”
“…caeli ad Orientem Ecce dabit voci suae…” Bobby’s voice wavered.
“So we helped him out. Let him scream a bit first. Not as fun as the pit of course… reality is so limited…”
“He lasted a good few hours before he finally stopped breathing. Did you know he begged for us to end it...?”
Bobby couldn’t talk anymore, and is relieved when he heard Ellen finished of the ritual. Jo remained sitting on the crate in the corner, playing with the demon killing knife that they had made priority to steal from Sa… the yellow-eyes.
“…vocem virtutis, tribuite virtutem deo.”
The heads throw back and the black smoke poured out. It mingled together until the two could no longer be told apart, swirling so closely together. That was when the angel moved forward, throwing out his hands. The thick black smoke squirmed, drawn back to Hell like a magnet, sulphur and black pit rot calling to the broken souls, even while the angel stopped it, keeping them trapped in the circle. For once, the age old rule of like calling to like was resisted, as Castiel trapped the pair.
“Get the bodies.” He instructed.
Ellen went to move the unconscious… no… she checked the pulse, shaking her head sadly. She dragged them out, being careful not to smudge the circle.
Bobby went to grab the new bodies, wishing that Castiel had found some other way of doing this. He tried not to look at the faces, but he knew he’d be seeing them a lot soon enough. The pair of bodies he dragged into the circle were heavy, and he wished that Dean had eaten less burgers and Sam had been a little shorter.
The last time he had seen the bodies now in the circle had been two years ago. The one had been torn apart, chest flayed open, eyes sightless and the other had been sleep-deprived, drunk and desperate.
The smoke batted at him, but the protection charm was warm against his skin. It didn’t stop him hopping out as soon as possible, fixing up where the chalk was smudged.
Castiel stepped forwards, directing his hand down towards the bodies. The black smoke was dragged along reluctantly.
“Don’t put them in the wrong body now,” Bobby told the angel, and received a withering glance in return. Angels obviously didn’t make mistakes like that.
************************************************
(“I will essentially return Sam and Dean to their original bodies. Their own spirits will bind them in.”
“I’m sorry run that by me again,” Jo had spoken for them all at the angel’s explanation.
“I’m going to bind…”
“No… the beginning…” Bobby had sighed.
The trench coated angel looked frustrated. “Humans are made up of three essential parts. The body, the spirit and the soul…”
“The body being the boring old meat-suit right..?” Jo asked, “The soul being…”
“The centre of being…”
“Right,” She nodded.
“Angels have no souls. We are beings of Grace… of pure creation. We don’t feel emotions like you do. That comes from your soul.”
“I think we get it,” Ellen interrupted. “Soul equals emotions. And the spirit..?”
“The spirit is like a rope. It binds the soul to the body. When a human dies, the spirit is disconnected from the body. Souls and their spirits are then taken up to heaven or down to hell. If mutated into a monster they end up in Purgatory. Should a person choose to remain on earth, their spirit will tie itself to something… usually its body.”
“Which is why burning a body gets rid of ghosts. They have nothing to tether to and… poof.” Jo waved her hand.
“Poof..?” Castiel frowned.
“Expression,” the blonde shrugged.
“This still isn’t explaining about Sam and Dean.”
“The Winchesters are demons.” Castiel said, and that still made Bobby shiver. “Demon is merely a word for a tainted soul. So tainted they themselves have mutated into something less than human. Humans were made in the image of my father and those that have fallen… they lose their image. They lack a body unless they possess someone. Often their original body is long gone by the time they arrive back on earth. Somehow however should a demon be on earth and their body also be on earth, and the body is burned it can… encourage the spirit to detach destroying the demon.”
“So they’re really just a type of ghost…” Ellen breathed.
“Essentially,” Castiel nodded. “Should however I provide Sam and Dean their original body, their spirits will reattach their souls to the body, binding them there. It would be like chaining a dog to its kennel.” The angel concluded, obviously feeling confident enough in his grasp of the English language to try a metaphor out.
“We’re going to chain down the Winchester brothers?” Jo asks.
“That is the plan.”
“They’re going to be pissed.”)
************************************************
Looking back that was an understatement.
Sam stirred first, head rising eyes blinking groggily. Then he jolted, eyes sliding to yellow hellfire and he sat up, lips curling into a snarl as he stretched the body, cracking the neck. There was a strange look of wonder on his face which lasted for about a second before fading into anger. He was just scrabbling to his feet as Dean started, rolling almost straight up and ending up half kneeling, half crouched there, his own eyes flashing red.
“I’m taller than you again,” Sam leered, and Dean stood, glaring at his brother. It was impossible now for Bobby to refer to them as Red and Yellow, because they were now so fundamentally Dean and Sam, in soul, body and spirit.
“It worked…” Ellen seemed surprised. “Now what..?”
The pair’s heads snapped around, glaring at the three humans and one angel. “Yeah Castiel,” Dean asked, “Why don’t you answer that huh? What’s the matter? Someone clip little Clarence’s wings?” His voice was mocking, and to hear it now in Dean’s voice, with green eyes dark and full of sick humour…
Castiel shifted uncomfortably but didn’t say anything. Bobby winced, because Castiel helping them meant that he was no longer with Heaven. The pair in the devil’s trap seemed to have picked up on that.
The brother’s worries were shifting though as Sam raised his hand to try to shift the chalk and nothing happened. His hazel eyes widened and he raised both hands. Hazel eyes flickered yellow and exchanged a panicked glance with his brother.
Dean spun around angrily to Castiel. “What did you do?” he snapped, eyes flaring and Bobby felt sick at seeing those flaring hell fire eyes on Dean. “What did you do?!” they slid back to green, face still twisted angrily.
“You’re bound to those bodies.” Castiel announced gravely. “What remains of your soul recognises the body. Your spirits have been reattached by the ritual. It’s the closest we could return you to humanity. What remains has to be done be yourself.”
They’re still demons, but the power… the psychic mojo was as bound as they were… now ordinary humans at best.
That was the theory at least. Bobby just hoped that it worked, because Sam and Dean never counted as ordinary.
************************************************
Bobby took them back to his house, feeling uneasy at transporting demons in nothing but iron hand cuffs. The metal rubbed red on their skin, but he forced himself not to care. They put the two in separate cars, because keeping them together was suicide. Bobby travelled with Sam while Dean was with the Harvelles. They’d played rock paper scissors over it, somehow under the impression that Sam was going to be the quieter and less irritating of the two.
As it turned out, Dean was satisfied with singing loudly and out of tune while Sam had a thing for reciting a list of tortures in gruesome detail. Bobby felt like he’d lost that one when Sam finally shifted from the pit to the abyss.
“It’s all angels in there. Bright lights that burn to look at, ‘cept most of them are red and orange and black. They’re fallen, see? Lots of them just sit there, doing nothing, but the rest like to tear at themselves. There was this one, near the beginning, named Dantanion. He was being torn apart by another… Paymon… Paimon…”
“They get torn apart but down there… in Hell… they can’t die, see, so they just reappear several years later, stuck together in funny pieces. That’s all Hell is really… I mean… it’s… well… it’s like hell… for demons. It’s a prison made of blood and bone and flesh and fear. It’s like a cage and the Chasm…? That was the cage inside the locked prison.”
“Apollyon took a liking to us early. She dragged Dean to this little corner for a century or so while the rest played with me. Used to see how long it took to burn in the hell fire. Except down there… it doesn’t burn warm so close to Lucifer’s cage. See most people are mistaken and think that he burns hot but it’s actually quite the opposite. He’s all ice and frost and you burn in the ice until your limbs don’t move and you actually are burning because it’s so cold it’s hot.”
“I found Dean after a while, and he was pretty beaten up. He stole himself an angel blade, and had ripped apart my one arm before he was convinced I wasn’t a Fallen. Every day he’d tear me apart to convince himself I wasn’t a Fallen. Apollyon used to pretend to be me, so he had to check that I wasn’t. Kind of like your holy water tests. I went through the same thing later, and so we had this little ritual going, where we’d make each other scream and bleed before allowing ourselves to believe we were with each other. Reality is so flimsy down there…”
“I sold him out once – did you know? I got an offer – him or me – and I threw him to the dogs. He spent five centuries with Lucifer whispering advice his ears as Apollyon provided entertainment for the Morning Star himself. He showed me when he got back, his eyes red and all – had some good techniques too. I got to be his test subject… made us closer that way… Dean’s into the whole torture thing. He knew Alistair briefly and was one day going to be the master protégé. He found a better teacher though.”
**************************************
(“He’s such a pretty toy,” the fallen angel told her master. She had no real form, all light, burning and searing his soul, which pulsed weakly in her grasp. Next to them… and it could have been behind, underneath, above or to the left… there was no real sense of direction in Hell… except for the feel of ice and frost and the harsh, too bright white light that twisted and laughed as Dean screamed.
“Don’t struggle,” Lucifer whispered through the bars, wings trailing out behind him as he watched the fun, “Watch how she cuts, the angel of the knife… the blade misses the nerves that way… at least on the first try…” Dean let out a dry sob as she followed Lucifer’s instructions. “It’s okay…” he crooned, “It’ll be okay. This is for Sam, right? This is for your brother, isn’t it?”
Dean nodded weakly.
“So loyal,” Lucifer purred, like a cat. “Not like my brother. You might have been his vessel, but you’re not like him at all.”
Apollyon giggled like a child as Dean struggled from her hold, her own wings smoke shadows which spanned his vision, searing his sight, like holding his skin to fire until it blistered. “What now?” she asked, fingers tracing Dean’s face like a lover’s embrace. “What should I do now my little demon?”
“Please,” the blistered soul begged, ragged scraps of memory and feeling, struggling to hold on, “Make it hurt. Make me feel. Anything… please… don’t… just please… I need…” Simultaneously hating and needing the touch of another, even if it tore him apart a little more each time, he continued to beg.
“You heard him,” Lucifer smiled from within his cage, watching the once-righteous man whimper.
And in the heat of the two angels, the ice surrounding his broken soul soothed him in the waves of pain and whispers.)
**************************************
And so it went on. How Sam would throw Dean to the Fallen and Dean would crawl back to show his brother how much it had hurt. How Dean would abandon Sam for years on end and when Sam finally tracked down his brother, he’d rip into him in anger at abandoning him.
**************************************
(“Hey Sammy…” Red eyes blinked at him from the blood coated form of his brother. “You’re getting better… How long did it take you this time? Only what… fifty years…?” His mocking broke off in a scream as Sam sank a silver angel blade into his arm, pinning him where he was. It was how they communicated now, with pain and blood and sweat. That was Hell, after all.
“You left,” he hissed, “You left me.”
The demon in front of him glared back, and Sam twisted the blade, until his eyes squeezed closed and Dean screamed again.
“I missed you,” he whispered in Dean’s ear. “So damn much. Want me to show you?”
Dean gasped for breath, and somehow the panic had turned into laughter, until he was full out laughing in hysterics. “Go on then Sammy,” he grinned, his eyes green, form shimmery, black and red with blood and smoke and tattered clothes, a faint mockery of his old black jacket, shirt and jeans, with a bronzed amulet pressed against his chest. He continued to laugh, even as Sam dug his fingers into Dean’s shoulder, tearing and clawing at the flesh, the soul with his hand, ripping into it like an animal.
“Scream for me,” Sam whispered, as Dean’s green eyes flickered to black and red, reflecting the hellfire around them, flesh tearing beneath Sam’s fingers as his mouth opened in a silent scream.)
**************************************
And somehow… instead of driving them further apart… the pair had become inseparable until finally it appeared that they had dragged down Apollyon and torn the way out of the abyss from her.
“We didn’t get out for another five centuries or so,” Sam admitted, still talking when they pulled into Sioux Falls. “So when she came back she was pretty pissed. She sold us out to Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies. He used to see how many deaths we could take of the other dying before crying out ourselves. We managed to get away though, and then we ran in Baal. Kind of nice as a Fallen goes. Gave us a few tips and that was about when we found the damn exit and climbed out of there.”
“And I mean climbed…” Bobby was approaching the salvage yard. Not long now. “Rock and ice and walls made of knives and thorns. In comparison to that icy pit, Hell was a hot sauna. The worst thing stalking about was a white-eye or two and we… we’d faced down the Fallen army… what was a few white-eyes in comparison? We’d gone from being puppy-chow to the top dog and man, were we in paradise.”
“We went after Lilith first. The Fallen liked to talk, and the Apocalypse was their favourite thing to talk about. Lilith didn’t recognise us until we killed her. And the best thing was… she didn’t come back. Not like the Fallen. She was dead and gone, and that was that. Then Dean went after Alistair. The Inquisitor couldn’t believe his little white eyes at seeing the soul he’d had on his rack all grown up with his own fallen angel brand of red eyes.”
**************************************
(Alistair had heard the stories. Apparently Lilith was dead. Not that he cared, except she was meant to be breaking seals. Well… she should be, except she was in Hell trying to find the missing righteous man. Dean Winchester had arrived on the racks, and while his daddy had been the strong silent type, Dean had been a screamer. He hadn’t cracked after twenty years, but Alistair had had plenty of time to work him.
Then his brother had shown up. The reaper who had dumped Sam Winchester there didn’t stay to pick up his passengers, and fled the basement, leaving Sam and Dean Winchester in the centre of hell.
One Winchester they could cope with, but both of them together?
They’d vanished. Fallen off the radar within a year... Nobody could find them in the pit, and nobody could find them outside it. Lilith had begun to despair, believing she’d lost them to heaven when the newcomers appeared from the abyss.
Their forms were vague shadows, red and yellow hellfire clinging to their forms. Alistair hadn’t seen them until after Lilith had died. He knew when they appeared though, strolling across the floor as if they owned the place, that Lilith was dead.
“They ripped her apart,” his spy told him. “The one just burnt her into nothing.”
“Which one..?” Alistair eyed the pair warily as they moved slowly but surely towards him. He could see their eyes – the mottle hellfire of fallen angels, even if the black smoke indicated human.
“The Yellow-eyes.” the demon whispered, looking terrified. She looked familiar… one of Lilith’s little pets probably.
He turned white eyes and his smoke shrouded form towards them. The duo didn’t speak, splitting, the one with yellow-eyes heading for the spy while the other moved towards him, smoky fire and smoke form solidifying into something almost vaguely human-like, blonde hair and a bronze amulet around his neck.
Alistair froze.
The one stayed at a distance, watching with red eyes which burnt with fire while the other continued on, barely paying Alistair a glance as he headed straight for Lilith’s pet.
“Sam?” the demon spy gasped.
“Hello Ruby,” the Yellow-eyes leered at her, and she stepped backwards, before freezing, unable to move as he paced towards her. “Be a good girl and don’t go anywhere,” he smirked, eyes gold.
Alistair cursed. Azazel’s plan with the demonic angel blood was a stupid one, and now seeing the Boy-King… little more than a demon himself now with powers beyond what they completely understood…
“Please… Sam…” Ruby fell to her knees as he stood over her, gently tilting her head upwards.
“The knife,” Sam said shortly and she pulled it out, giving it to him as if she were giving him a present.
Sam examined it for only a moment before turning away. Ruby slumped slightly in relief, and then froze, as fire crept up her form. The Inquisitor frowned. It wasn’t fire… it was ice – burning ice creeping up her smoky soul.
Sam glanced at him carelessly, but Alistair didn’t move. The other demon (and he knew who it was – who didn’t?) stayed where he was, smirking at the scene, ten feet off. The red-eyes looked proud as Sam moved back towards him, and the Master Torturer glanced at Ruby, where she was struggling to stand.
The icy flames crept up her form, engulfing her limbs as her black soul crackled, struggling free from the frozen embrace. Tears slipped from black eyes which flew shut, mouth opening to scream even as the ice choked her throat. Alistair could see the exact moment the ice overcame her form. Her black smoky soul was engulfed completely, crystalizing to a statue. It didn’t last, and it had barely finished forming around her than it shattered, melting to blackened water which trickled away, and leaving nothing in its wake.
Ruby was gone. Gone, dead and she’d just been killed… by one of the Winchesters…
The Grand Inquisitor spun around, spotting Sam grinning proudly at his brother. If the white-eye had had a heart, it would have been sinking right now, as Dean stepped forwards towards him own prey, lips curling in a smirk. The once former student, green eyes once so pretty and full of pain, now blazing with blood and ink, approached the former master. “You know.” Dean began, conversationally. “You weren’t too bad a teacher.”
The white-eyed demon tried to flee as the smoky hazy form of Dean Winchester moved towards him, a silver blade spinning in his hands. But his limbs wouldn’t move and for the first time in a long time, Alistair felt fear as the fallen righteous man smiled, almost apologetically.
“I just found a better one.”)
**************************************
“Those two were the main powers in hell.” Sam continued his narrative. “Crowley jumped when we told him and the rest were fawning dogs. We’d taken Hell and figured… how about earth? After all… we haven’t been up there for a while… and after earth..? Heaven maybe… Hear that Bobby? We’re going to Heaven!” Sam laughed as the car slid to a stop.
Bobby was out of the car in a flash shaking with tears in his eyes. The Harvelles were already there.
“How was your journey?” Jo asked, “Because Dean was okay. He just kept singing AC/DC. Apparently he taught it to Lucifer.”
Bobby took a moment to reply. “He kept talking about Hell.” He said finally. “Wouldn’t shut up... Going on and on about the Fallen in that damn Chasm and how he sold Dean out to be tortured , how Dean left him for years, how Lucifer gave Dean lessons…” he laughed. “And how he’d rip Sam apart with everything he’d learned from the devil.” He swallowed, and stalked towards his house. “You can get him to the panic room.” He said over his shoulder. He needed a beer. Or two... Or three…
************************************************
The pair had been locked in the panic room for a day. They didn’t need food or water but Bobby felt compelled to bring it to them anyway. He hadn’t set eyes on either of them since they’d been shut in. As he approached, he heard the quiet murmur of conversation.
“What are they going to do? Keep us locked in this room for the rest of their lives?”
“Here’s a supernatural zoo kiddies. Pay 4 dollars to see a demon.”
“What were they thinking? We’re not going to die… we’re just going to be like this now… forever. Unless we get back the Kurdish knife or the Colt… they have my knife but even then I don’t think it will…”
“No.”
“No… they don’t have the Colt do they?”
“Are they waiting until they do?”
“I think they want us to make amends.”
“How many confessions do you think we’d have to go to for that?”
“How many priests do you think we could get through?”
“Would it be more fun or less than the nuns do ya’ think?”
“Who cares? Blood is blood and the purer the better…”
Bobby stopped listening into their conversation at that point, pushing open the door with his back and walking in with the tray of food. Two familiar faces looked up, and for a moment he saw Sam’s eyes were their sickly yellow hell fire before they shifted back to hazel.
For a moment he could almost pretend that everything was normal.
“I’ve got food,” he said, before one of them could start talking from where they were sprawled across the floor in the middle of the devil’s trap. He dumped the tray on the small table left in the room and turned to go.
“Can we have some cards or something?” Dean asked, and he paused.
“This ain’t a five star hotel,” he snapped eventually.
He stalked out of there, missing the look the pair shared behind his back as the door slammed shut on them.
************************************************
They were undecided what to do now when the answer was found for them (if unwanted). Bobby had answered the door a week later to find Roy and Walt there. The pair had stalked in uninvited.
“We know you’ve got those demons here.” Walt announced brashly. “Why aren’t they back in Hell?”
“’Cause they’d just crawl out,” Jo said. “The pair of them… they’re big news in Hell. They says jump, the black-eyes ask how high.”
“Is it true?” Roy demanded nervously. “Are they really Sam and Dean Winchester?”
The uneasy silence answered that question.
Castiel was away, looking for methods to cure a demon. When Walt pulled out a gun there was no way to prevent him from storming down to the panic room.
“We’ll take that,” he slid the knife from Jo’s belt as Roy opened the iron door. Bobby saw the pair inside look up, Sam sitting on the floor and Dean stalking around the edges of the circle.
The latter broke into a grin, eyes staying human, “Roy, Walt. How nice to see old friends again..!”
“Shut up!” Roy snapped as Walt stalked towards the edge of the circle. “You’re monsters, and now you’re going to die like one.”
“Really think that’s a good idea?” Sam slowly uncurled from the floor like a predator, long limbs surprisingly co-ordinated.
“Hey, you know where most hunters go to when the die?” Dean stopped pacing, watching with amusement as Walt hovered on the edge of the circle, obviously unnerved by the pair being back in their old meat.
“Where..?” Roy made the mistake of asking.
“Not Heaven that’s for sure. But how ‘bout you confirm that theory for us?” Dean suggested, laughing.
“Don’t!” Bobby tried to warn Walt, as he moved towards them in anger, making to stab Sam. In one swift movement Yellow-eyes had twisted the blade around and brought it into Walt’s own heart.
“Oh crap…” Jo whispered from behind as Sam threw the knife to the floor. It buried itself point first in the devil’s trap there and with a triumphant grin Dean stepped out of it.
“Thanks for that,” he said to Roy, seconds before reaching out and snapping the guy’s neck. Bobby stumbled back, out the exit and past the second devil’s trap.
“Castiel..!” Jo was calling the angel. “Castiel we need help! Sam and Dean… they…”
Dean retrieved the knife and sliced his palm. He was crouched on the ground, drawing something when with a flutter of wings, the angel arrived. The demons paused, but only for a second. Castiel’s eyes widened, spotting the sigil Red-eyes was drawing. “No…” he moved forwards, towards the pair. “I will burn you out of existence…” he threatened, but it was too late, the symbol finished and Dean’s hand slamming down onto the centre of it. Castiel vanished in a flare of white light.
“Sorry Clarence. It’s nothing personal.” Dean shrugged as Sam threw the knife into the second trap, breaking that as well. “Or maybe it is.” He laughed as Yellow-eyes moved out first, hands raised in a seemingly surrender position to Jo and Bobby.
“Hey now guys don’t be like that. It’s just me.”
“Exactly,” Ellen announced from the side, and Sam turned, a flask of water splashing onto him. He winced, but there was no steam.
“Sorry darling,” Dean grabbed the knife, strolling towards Bobby and Jo. “That stuff doesn’t work on something us.” And he raised a hand. Bobby froze, waiting to see if it had worked and they were bound in their bodies.
For a moment nothing happened. Then Dean stepped forwards with a snarl, eyes sliding to red and Bobby felt himself being hurled backwards. Red-eyes let out a triumphant laugh. “Got it,” he crowed, “Did you really think binding us was going to stop us forever… after what we’ve been through..? Considering what we’ve become?”
“We’re practically Fallen ourselves,” Sam stalks towards them. “After all that time we spent in the chasm. You know what happened to Beelzebub? I kind of lied… we didn’t escape. We ripped him apart and instead of just leaving the pieces so he could just come back again, we kept them for ourselves. Every angel we came across we…” he searched for a word for a second.
“Ate,” Dean provided, shrugging. The knife twirled in his hands. “We ate them for lack of a better word. They don’t have souls. They have Grace. Well… they did once at least.”
“Pure Creation 101,” Sam finished explaining. “You tear that up and you’ve got yourself pure power. And we took it from them. Made it ours... We were better than them anyway. We were stronger… smarter… They never even managed to get out the abyss and we…” he laughed.
“What are you going to do now?” Jo gasped out, “Kill us? Eat our souls?”
Dean actually seemed to consider it before Ellen spoke up. “We just want to fix you boys…” she whispered.
“It’s not broken!” Dean snarled, “Can’t you just leave us be? Or do you want us back there… burning in Hell huh? Which would you prefer?”
“We just want Sam and Dean back,” Jo sobbed from next to Bobby.
“This is all you’re going to get,” Sam spread his arms, “Sam and Dean… they’re gone. They’re dead!” His eyes slid back hazel and he laughed. “We run the show now!” He raised a fist and squeezed, and Bobby closed his eyes, knowing what would come next as Jo began to choke on her own blood. “Torture’s so much more fun when you don’t get your hands dirty,” Sam chuckled.
Dean spun the knife in his hands, “You know I disagree, little brother,” he sighed, before turning towards Ellen. “You can’t blame us,” he told her, as he traced her collar bone with the blade. “We gave you a chance to stay out of our way, but you threw it back in our faces.” The blade sliced the flesh and Ellen gave a heaving breath. “Say goodbye to your daughter,” he whispered in her ear, as Jo gave one more shuddering cough and Sam let go of her body. She slumped to the floor in a pool of blood, still.
“No!” Ellen cried, tears staining her face.
“Yes, actually,” Dean smiled at her. It was meant to be reassuring but the demon had turned the look into one of condensing and mocking joy. “Now it’s your turn.”
Bobby forced himself not to look away as she screamed. Dean didn’t use the knife… instead he drove his hand right into her chest. Ellen choked as Dean slowly drew back clutching something.
Sam laughed as Dean turned to him, holding out the bloody, still pumping heart. “Be my Valentine?” Red-eyes asked and Yellow-eyes let his fingers trail through the blood before bringing them to his lips and tasting it.
“Try again next year,” Sam teased his brother, turning away with a grin towards Bobby. Dean laughed, crushing the heart until it stopped beating. He threw it to the floor carelessly and it landed next to Ellen’s slumped body.
“Shall we leave him?” Sam asked his brother.
Dean examined him for a moment, “He’ll just team up with Cass again,” he concluded. “We can deal with the angel alone. Let’s not leave him with any human friends.”
Sam’s eyes flashed hellfire as he spoke to Bobby, “I’d just like to say this has been fun. Really... Thanks for the meat suits.” Dean stepped past, raising a hand and twisting it in a derisive flick, as if swatting at a fly.
In those final few seconds Bobby knew three things for certain.
Not even death could separate the Winchester brothers.
They were going to burn down the world.
He wasn’t going to be there to see it.
The last thing he saw before his neck snapped were the two males with red and yellow hellfire eyes which burned with madness.
Then with a crack, he knew nothing more.
************************************************