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In Spite of All the Danger (12/13)

Title: In Spite of All the Danger
Chapter Title: Here Comes the Sun
Wordcount: 1,296 this chapter
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean, OMC with appearances by Castiel and Ruby
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None so far. It's set late season 4 so there will possibly be eventual mentions of what's gone on before
Disclaimer: If you recognize the character, it's not mine
Summary: The brothers, in the course of a simple salt and burn, meet up with a stranger who conveniently needs to be rescued
A/N: This is my first Supernatural fic so please be kind. I'm a little nervous regarding its reception. Thanks to my beta just_ruth
Song on YouTube: Here Comes the Sun--The Beatles


One: Dear Prudence
Two: You Can't Do That
Three: Help!
Four: Happiness is a Warm Gun
Five: It's All Too Much
Six: Getting Better
Seven: Day Tripper
Eight: Devil in Her Heart
Nine: I Feel Fine
Ten: With a Little Help from My Friends
Eleven: Dig It




Dean had frozen his butt off digging up that grave. He had gotten so used to having Sam around that it took longer than he thought. He had picked up Bobby and Jo and drove to the hotel where Sam and Alan were waiting with hot coffee. His brother had simply looked at him and said, “What took you so long?” As Sam rarely got the better of him, Dean had let it go.
Now it was close to 6:30 in the morning and the damn demon hadn’t shown. Cas’s intel must have been wrong. He groaned as he stretched. “I don’t know how cops do all-night stakeouts.”

“They’re usually on a rotation,” said Sam as he kept watch on the small family plot through binoculars. “We can’t.”

“Could be worse,” said Alan from the back. “We could all be in here.”

“That was a good idea, renting a car fro them,” Dean acknowledged.

“I thought it would be better to have them on the other side and I couldn’t make them wait in the cold.” Alan yawned.

“I don’t think this is going to happen,” Sam declared. “It’s getting near dawn.”

“’When lights close their tired eyes’.”

Dean turned in his seat to look at Alan. “’I’ll soon be with you my love’,” he continued.

“’I’ll give you my dawn surprise’,” Alan smiled.

They sang the next few lines together until Sam yelled at them to stop. “What? It’s Cream.”

“I think I see some movement.”

Alan sat forward. “Is it the demon?”

“Who else would be here this early in the morning aside from us?” Dean said as he called Bobby. “Yeah, Sam’s seen movement near the plot.”

“Yeah, Jo spotted something too. Is it time?”

“Nah, wait till we see action at the grave.” He looked at Sam. “Anything?”

“Not yet. Wait, there is someone.”

“Okay, we’ve got company,” Dean told Bobby. “You remember what to do?”

“I ain’t senile.”

“Sorry, Bobby.”

“Me and Jo got you covered.”

“’kay.” Dean shut off the phone and then looked at Sam and Alan. “Showtime.”

They stepped out into the cold and closed the Impala doors as quietly as they could because sound carried out here. The three of them fanned out behind the figure at the grave. Dean could practically smell the brimstone. He pumped his shotgun and aimed it at the demon. Sam and Alan trained their weapons on him as well.

“I was wondering when you’d show up.”

As Dean worked his way around to face his enemy, he could see the meatsuit was a man, probably not much older than himself. “Well, you’re the one late to the party. We’ve been here all night.”

“You’ve had a busy few days as well. An interesting plan; can’t have been yours.”

Why does no one think I can come with a decent plan?

The demon turned its head. “So you’re the one everybody’s talking about. Don’t see what the fuss is for.”

Dean thought this one was a bit slow if he didn’t know about Sam by now. Apparently, he was a big deal down below, first as a poster boy and then as Hell’s Most Wanted. He then noticed that the demon wasn’t looking at Sam, but Alan. “Why are you interested?” he demanded.

The demon aimed its black eyes at Dean. “A new player is always a topic of discussion, especially when associated with Winchesters.” It returned its gaze to Alan. “You know, when you throw in with this family, you usually end up dead.”

“Well, I’ve been told I’m very unusual,” Alan stated with a self-assured smile. He was handling his first demon encounter pretty well.

“This has nothing to do with you, Soldier Boy. Leave now!” The demon’s voice was cold and menacing instead of the usual soft-sell persuasion. Dean was surprised that it even gave Alan a chance.

“Sorry, no, not leaving.”

The demon shrugged and Dean knew what was coming. “No!”

Alan was flung across the small graveyard and landed on the ground, unconscious.

Sam whipped his head back to the demon after staring at Alan’s prone body. The look was one Dean had never hoped to see again. It was the look he had when he used his powers against Alastair.

“Ooh, look at little Sammy, wanting to use his powers against the Big Bad Demon.” He shuddered and laughed. “You’re not strong enough to stop me, battery’s low. Don’t need you, anyway.” It pinched its left forefinger and thumb together and Sam began gasping for breath.

“Sam!” Dean fired, but the demon deflected the bullets.

The demon held up his hand and Dean was frozen in place. It then pointed his finger and drew a line in the air and a corresponding line ripped Dean’s shirt and blood appeared. He gasped at the sudden pain. The finger changed direction and another gash appeared. He gritted his teeth.

“Really, Dean, you can’t be hurting from this, not Alastair’s great protégé. Oh, yeah, I remember you. Your arrival was front page news for weeks, and when you broke,” he chuckled, “it was a damn feather headdress in Alastair’s cap.”

Dean could hear Bobby and Jo calling his name but he couldn’t see them. Damn demon must’ve set up a barrier. He began to recite the exorcism. “Regno terrae cantate Deo, soli te Domino--”

“None of that.” The demon took away Dean’s voice and pinioned him against a poplar tree with a wave of his hand. “No time to play, the grown-ups are busy.”

“Haven’t you heard about all work and no play?”

Dean looked to his left and saw Alan striding towards them. The right side of his face was scraped and bleeding and there was a long gash running down his forearm. He was lucky it missed an artery. The look in his eyes reminded him of Dad, in a cold, military way.

“Why didn’t you stay down?” The demon waved his hand again but Alan was unaffected. The demon tried again with no success.

Alan raised his bleeding arm and the tables were turned on the demon. Dean was freed from the tree and ran to his brother’s side. Sam was breathing in huge lungfuls of air, color returning to his lips. Dean helped him stand and they both looked at Alan who seemed to be holding the demon in place, not sending it back to Hell like Sam did.

Jo and Bobby came running up. “Are you okay?” “What’s going on?” they asked simultaneously.

“A little banged up, but okay,” Dean answered.

“Latin!” Alan ground out.

Sam began the exorcism and Dean joined in, his voice giving Sam’s strength. Alan lowered his hand and the demon left the man’s body with a scream. Like marionettes with their strings cut, both Alan and the once-possessed man collapsed to the ground unconscious.

Bobby took control of the situation. “You three take Alan back to the motel while I do the salt and burn.”

Dean picked up Alan’s legs as Sam got the head and shoulders. Jo went ahead, opened the back door and slid inside to guide the body in. He then went to the trunk and pulled out a blanket and some clothes. He handed them to Jo when he got in. “Keep him warm and try to stop the bleeding on his arm. We can do a better job of it back at the hotel.”

Dean started the engine and turned up the heat. He knew that two lives hung in the balance right now. If Alan didn’t live to make it home, his brother would die as well and he was not about to let that happen, not to a pair of brothers almost as devoted to each other as he and Sam.

Thirteen: The End

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