Supernatural - Chapter 56: The Crack (Patreon)

In the last week of July, they finally got another case.

More precisely, Bobby passed along a job he didn't feel like handling himself.

Over three days, the owner of an auto repair shop had attacked his wife and two employees. One victim suffered six broken ribs, while another had nearly been run over and killed by a car. The police initially thought the man had simply snapped, until his wife regained consciousness and insisted that his eyes had turned completely black just before he attacked her.

There were also unmistakable traces of sulfur in the repair shop's storage area.

“So, a demon.” Dean actually sounded rather energized when he hung up the phone.

Murphy looked up from behind her laptop. “Have you been sitting around the house so long you've gone crazy?”

“I'm concerned about the safety of innocent civilians.”

“You were smiling just now.”

“Was not.”

Sam had already closed the book in his hands without a word.

Whether Dean admitted it or not, they'd been home for a long time.

The three set out around noon that day and spent half a day checking the facts once they arrived. The demon had already slipped away right under the police's noses. It was still wandering around in the shop owner's body, apparently not yet finished amusing itself.

There was little worth saying about the investigation. They eventually cornered it inside an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town.

It clearly recognized the Winchester brothers. Even after they trapped it beneath a devil's trap painted on the ceiling, it showed surprisingly little fear. Instead, it spent a long time studying Sam with undisguised interest.

“Well, if it isn't the Yellow-Eyed One's little prince.”

Sam's expression turned cold. “He's dead.”

“I know.” The demon chuckled. “That old bastard spent so many years choosing, and you're the one he ended up leaving behind.”

Dean was already tired of listening. He splashed an entire bottle of holy water at it.

The resulting scream echoed through the warehouse.

It took the demon a while to lift its head again. Half its face had been burned black, yet it was still smiling. Apparently savoring Sam's expression, it caught its breath and continued. “You ought to hear what they're saying about you down below.”

Sam frowned. “About me?”

The demon never took its eyes off him. “Lilith doesn't like it one bit.”

Sam had no interest in Hell's power struggles, and the remark only baffled him further. “I have nothing to do with Lilith.”

“You think that makes it true?”

The demon's grin turned nastier.

“You really think the rest of them down there see it that way?”

Sam said nothing.

That struck closer to home than the earlier comment about being a little prince. Azazel had been dead for over a year. Sam had never even considered taking over anything the demon left behind. But to hear this one talk, Hell had no intention of letting him walk away from that game.

Dean had heard more than enough. He nodded to Murphy, and she immediately began reciting the exorcism.

At first it went smoothly. The demon struggled harder and harder, and its shouted insults gradually turned into screams.

Halfway through the incantation, Murphy heard several unfamiliar syllables mixed into its cries.

She faltered for an instant.

A second later, the floor gave a violent jolt beneath their feet.

Tool racks rattled throughout the warehouse, and dust rained from overhead. Dean had barely looked up when a sharp cracking sound came from the ceiling.

“Damn it.”

The crack had cut straight through one corner of the devil's trap.

With the pattern broken, the pain vanished from the demon's face. It tore through the ropes binding it almost at once. Dean managed to shove Murphy aside, but the demon's restored power hurled him away before he could do anything else.

“Dean!”

Sam didn't even have time to think. A familiar sensation surged up from within him, and the demon, which had been about to lunge at Dean, stopped dead in its tracks.

Murphy had already reached for the holy water. The sight made her freeze for a moment too.

The demon shook uncontrollably, as though something unseen had seized it. A wisp of black smoke forced its way out of the possessed man's mouth, only to be dragged back inside.

Sam stood motionless, as stunned as anyone.

He hadn't meant to use his power. His only thought had been to keep the thing away from Dean, but the power had emerged on its own.

“Sam!” Murphy was the first to react.

Sam finally snapped back to himself.

That brief distraction was enough. The demon, which had already been partly forced out, withdrew into its host. A violent pain shot through Sam's temples. His vision darkened, and he instinctively clutched his head.

The instant the demon could move again, it lunged toward Dean, who was nearest, without a second thought.

Dean had only just pushed himself off the floor. He couldn't possibly dodge in time.

A gunshot split the warehouse air.

The demon's body jerked violently and stopped midcharge. Murphy stood several paces away with the Colt still trained on it. She waited another second to make sure her shot had connected before slowly lowering her hand.

The man collapsed, and the warehouse fell silent.

“You okay?” Murphy turned to Dean first.

“I'm fine.” Dean wiped at a scrape on his face, then glanced down at the body. “That bastard almost landed right on top of me, though.”

Only then did the stabbing pain in Sam's temples begin to ease. He looked at the dead man, unable to stop thinking about what had just happened.

He had already forced some of the black smoke out.

If he hadn't lost his concentration, perhaps he could have pulled the demon out completely. The man might at least have had a chance to survive.

Sam stared at the body for several seconds, his temples still throbbing.

Dean was already urging them to leave. The gunshot could easily have drawn people nearby. Murphy put the Colt away and helped clean up the scene.

Sam cast one last look at the fallen man before getting up to follow them.

-

As soon as Sam settled into the passenger seat of Baby, he felt something wet beneath his nose.

He wiped at it absently, then looked down to find blood on his fingertips.

Dean had been about to start the engine, but the sight caught his eye and made him stop. Murphy noticed from the back seat as well and immediately rummaged through her bag for tissues.

“Here.”

Sam pressed them against his nose. His irritation was plain on his face as he shut his eyes and leaned back against the seat.

“What the hell happened in there?” Dean asked.

“I don't know.” Sam's voice sounded muffled through the tissue. “I saw that thing going for you, and then... it just came out by itself.”

That was exactly what bothered him most.

The previous time, at least he'd had a definite target. Today he hadn't even prepared to do anything. By the time he realized what was happening, the power was already acting ahead of him.

Murphy asked a few questions about how he felt. His headache was about a three or four out of ten, and the nosebleed hadn't continued. Compared with what had happened on May 2, this was definitely much milder.

“It doesn't seem too serious for now,” she said, a little relieved. “But we still need to figure out why it happened on its own.”

Dean glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “And how do we do that?”

Murphy thought for a moment. “Maybe we could talk to Ruby.”

Sam opened his eyes.

“She probably understands your abilities better than we do,” Murphy said. “We can hear what solution she offers. Whether we believe her is another matter.”

Dean clearly disliked the suggestion, but he didn't object right away.

Sam, on the other hand, fell quiet.

Ruby had come to see him not long ago, and he still hadn't told Dean or Murphy about it.

Thinking about that made him feel strangely guilty. He closed his eyes again and replaced the bloodied tissue with a fresh one.

Dean finally started Baby. “We'll find somewhere to stay first. If Sam starts looking worse, we're heading straight to a hospital.”

Sam gave a vague acknowledgment and didn't bring up Ruby again.

-

They ended up finding a motel nearby.

After they checked in, Sam went to wash his face while Dean headed out to buy dinner.

The nosebleed had stopped, though his temples still throbbed from time to time. When he emerged from the bathroom, Murphy had spread her medical supplies across the table: painkillers, disinfectant, bandages, the works.

After living with two hunters who managed to get themselves injured all year round, packing medical supplies had become as natural to her as carrying her wallet.

“Take one of these first.”

Sam accepted the pill and swallowed it with some water.

Rather than immediately packing everything away, Murphy watched him for a while. “When I called your name back there, you stopped.”

Sam knew she meant his power.

It was true. His head had hurt terribly, but the moment his attention was interrupted, the ability had dissipated too. That at least suggested it hadn't gone completely beyond his control.

Murphy had evidently reached the same conclusion.

“The problem might not be as bad as we thought,” she said, then reminded him more seriously, “But you have to tell us if anything changes. And if there's something you don't want to tell Dean right away, at least tell me first, okay?”

Sam was still thinking about the warehouse, but those last words stirred something in him.

He hesitated, then merely nodded.

Murphy seemed satisfied.

Sam couldn't quite let the subject go, though. After leaning quietly against the table for a while, he asked, “Do you think Ruby knows how to control it?”

He felt guilty even as the question left his mouth.

Fortunately, Murphy assumed he was simply following up on what they'd discussed in the car. She gave it some thought. “She probably knows something. If she really offers a method, we can listen first. Though I'd say nine, maybe even ten, out of ten things she says can't be trusted.”

As she spoke, Murphy was privately wondering whether she should summon Crowley ahead of time. At least he was better at keeping his promises, and he didn't want Lucifer released either.

Sam had no idea what she was plotting. He nodded again.

It was only a question. They didn't necessarily have to do what Ruby said. Besides, even Murphy thought it was worth asking her this time.

That made the idea seem much more reasonable to him.

Murphy hadn't noticed where his thoughts had gone. She had just put the painkillers back in her bag when the door swung open.

Dean walked in carrying two paper bags, bringing the smell of fried chicken and fries with him.

“Only thing I could find nearby. It'll have to do.”

Murphy was about to go take the food when her gaze dropped to his arm. The scrape he'd gotten from his fall at the warehouse still hadn't been treated, and there was even some dried blood on it.

Her outstretched hand promptly changed course and dragged the medical kit back toward her.

“Sit down first.”

Dean glanced at his arm. “It's just a scratch. I don't need...”

Murphy was already pulling out the disinfectant.

Dean wisely swallowed the rest of his protest, set their dinner on the table, and obediently sat on the edge of the bed.

Murphy cleaned the wound thoroughly. He hadn't reacted much when he'd hit the wall, but as soon as the alcohol touched the scrape, his face twisted.

“Ow! Easy!”

“Oh, now it hurts?”

Dean went quiet.

Murphy finished wrapping a bandage around his forearm, then deliberately waved the loose end at him. “If you've got any complaints, I could always tie it into a bow.”

Dean snatched his arm back at once.

Beside them, Sam finally let out a laugh. Some of the frustration that had weighed on him since the incident with his powers eased with it.

-

That evening, Murphy took the first shower. Dean complained that there was nothing to drink and went to the vending machine for three cans of soda.

When he came back, Sam was standing alone on the motel's outdoor walkway. The night breeze had finally cooled a little. He leaned against the railing, no longer bleeding from his nose, though he still looked tired.

Dean tossed him one can and set the other two down nearby.

Sam caught it. “Thanks.”

Dean leaned on the railing beside him, opened his drink, and took a sip without rushing to speak.

The brothers stood there together for a while before Dean finally broke the silence.

“You've been researching your abilities lately?”

Sam paused, then admitted it. “I have. All along.”

There was little point hiding it. He'd practically worn out all the material they had at home on Azazel, the special children, and demons. Dean hadn't mentioned it, but that didn't mean he hadn't noticed.

“Ever tried using them yourself?”

“No.”

Sam answered quickly this time.

Dean nodded, his expression finally easing a little. He shifted the soda can in his hand and spoke again after a pause. “What you did today did save my life.”

Sam turned his head to look at him.

“Don't look at me like that. You think I'm completely unreasonable?” Dean sounded annoyed. “But that nosebleed and headache looked pretty serious. Who knows what other damage this thing could do to you?”

Sam looked down, fingers curled around the cold can. “That's why I want to understand it.”

“I know.”

Dean's answer took Sam by surprise.

But Dean knew his brother. Telling Sam to forget about the whole thing now would be about as effective as telling him to stop breathing.

And after what had happened today, the power wasn't something they could simply pretend didn't exist anymore.

“You can research it. You can even ask that demon chick.” Dean still looked disgusted at the thought of Ruby. “But if you're planning to try anything weird on yourself, you tell us first. Got it?”

Sam's grip tightened unconsciously around his soda.

Fortunately, Dean wasn't looking at him. He simply took another drink.

“Especially if something feels wrong,” he added. “Don't try to carry everything on your own.”

Sam stayed quiet for a while before replying, “Got it.”

At that moment the motel door opened, and Murphy poked her head out. Her hair was still wet from her shower.

“What are you two doing out here? Feeding the mosquitoes?”

Dean looked down at a mosquito that had just landed on his arm and promptly turned toward the room.

“Ask Sam. He came out first.”

“I was just getting some air.”

“Then enjoy it.”

Sam watched Dean disappear inside, speechless, before picking up his soda and following him.

Murphy returned to her own room a little later.

The day's excitement had left her exhausted. She wished the brothers good night, shut her door, and went straight to sleep.

Sam and Dean weren't quite ready for bed yet.

When Sam emerged from the shower, Dean was sprawled across his bed, lazily flipping through the channels. Some soap opera was playing on a channel he didn't recognize. He watched with little interest, then tossed the remote aside.

“I'm going to sleep.”

Sam mumbled an acknowledgment as he dried his hair.

Only a few seconds after Dean turned the television off, the dark screen suddenly flickered.

Dean had just been about to lie down. He lifted his head again.

“Did you touch the remote?”

“No.”

Sam looked over too.

A faint crackle of static came from the television.

At first it was barely audible, like a loose connection in old wiring. A few seconds later, it rose into a piercing shriek. Sam jerked his head aside and frowned instinctively, while Dean sat bolt upright and reached for the remote.

The noise cut off, leaving the room silent again.

Dean pressed the power button twice. The TV came on normally, the picture perfectly clear.

“Crappy place.”

He muttered the complaint and switched it off again.

Sam watched the screen for a couple of seconds, saw nothing worth worrying about, and gave up on it. He turned away and draped his towel over the back of a chair.

Dean lay back down.

Neither of them noticed the streetlight in the parking lot outside the window give a faint flicker at that very moment.