Chapter Text
There once was a boy named Sam, who lost his mother when he was only 6 months old. His father, after losing his wife to a demon became a hunter. He also had an older brother named Dean. Despite their differences they always looked out for each other.
One day there were on a hunting trip in New Orleans, and Sam couldn't believe this was their first time hunting here. It was a known hotbed of activity, but they usually stayed further north. As he glanced at his brother, tapping the steering wheel along with the music, Sam realized Dean was almost giddy. He just wasn't sure if it was at the prospect of hunting here or the thought of indulging in the debauchery the Big Easy was known for.
They were there to investigate poltergeist activity at the Wyndham New Orleans in the French Quarter. They had arrived during Mardi Gras and walking down Bourbon St was quite enjoyable for Dean. They decided to get a beer, and then Sam wanted to get some sleep while Dean got beads for the ladies. Eventually they were both in the room sound asleep, with a slight smile on Dean’s face.
Around 4:30 a.m. they were abruptly jolted awake by a woman's scream. Both Sam and Dean woke up at the same time, having become accustomed to doing this. They were dressed in minutes and out the door in seconds, both looking around for any sign of the woman, hoping to hear a scream again, so they could find out where it came from.
They got into the impala and drove by a few buildings and streets before Sam noticed the flickering lights of a semi-new building and a flickering figure in one of its windows. Checking the salt rounds in his shotgun and his pocket, Sam turned to his brother. The older Winchester looked relaxed, but Sam knew better. The few minutes of quiet before all hell usually broke loose were nothing more than a chance for them to catch their breath. As soon as the Impala stopped, both hunters got out and crept towards the building.
The building and the surrounding area was quiet but to the Winchesters that was normal, they usually just shot and asked questions later. That's exactly what they thought as they entered the building, both with guns out and in front of them as they quietly walked in.
“A poltergeist?” Sam wondered aloud as he walked beside his brother. They'd seen and battled worse many times before, but all in all they could use a slow-down, easy case. He frowned lightly at the stillness to the air in the building around them. No sooner had his mouth opened to voice a comment to his brother, than he heard the scream again. It was louder this time, and suddenly there was the figure of a woman racing towards them. Sam and Dean shot, but the rock salt was having no affect. The phantom flew at them, through them, through a wall, and then disappeared. The boys looked at each other, unsure of what they had just seen. This was no standard poltergeist or ghost.
"There were markings on its clothes," Sam commented. "Never seen them before. I'll need to do some research."
Dean smirked. "I don't need to research anything. In this town? Ten bucks says it's voodoo."
Sam thought about the markings again. "We're going to need to find an expert then. You think maybe Garth knows someone?"
"It's ok. I already know someone who can help us. She won't be happy to see me, but she'll still help," Dean muttered.
Sam looked at his brother, confused. "Who?" he asked as Dean pulled his phone out. Sam stopped listening to the conversation, his mind distracted by something else. A noise could be heard somewhere in the distance. Not wanting to disturb Dean, Sam decided to investigate this one on his own.
Without a word to his elder brother Sam slipped off in search of the sound. -CLANG- he heard again and frowned. A backward glance told him that Dean hadn't noticed, too lost in his phone call. He moved deeper into the building, following the semi-repetitive sound that seemed to move further away the more he walked.
"Like I said, man, she...." Dean said as he turned around to find Sam gone, "Sammy!?" Dean yelled, scared for him and his brother’s life, "Damnit. Sammy!?" Dean yelled again, frantically looking around.
Sam didn't hear his brother, or if he did he thought he was imagining it as he walked further into the building, listening closer to the clanging that seemed to resonate now from all around him. His brows knitted together, slowly shifting to look around as the sound filled the air, blocking everything else out until it was all he heard. It was a clanging that repeated loudly within his head, deafeningly loud, getting to the point that he actually winced when it sounded in his head, vibrating his skull.
Dean ran through the building calling Sam's name. As he rounded a corner he could hear moaning and a shiver when up his back. He'd found Sam, crumpled to the ground, hands over his ears. Dean rushed to him and helped him up, "Sammy! It's ok. You're ok, I'm right here."
But Sam just shook his head, "No, you don't understand..."
Dean looked at his brother, scared and worried, he feared for the worse, "What is it Sammy?" Dean asked looking into Sam's eyes.
Sam's eyes clenched shut in pain, groaning as he held tightly to his brother’s jacket sleeves to keep himself on his feet. "My head..." he groaned, not really sure if he'd heard Dean's question right or not. The clanging in his head was too loud. He opened his eyes to look at his brother’s worried face, feeling a little lightheaded.
"Why? What is it?" Dean asked, his heart was racing at the sight if his brother in so much pain, "Sammy, tell me please," Dean said, noticing Sam's expression, he gently sat his brother on the ground. This place reeked of bad juju. "You're gonna be ok Sammy. I'll get you out of here. We gotta go, it's not safe here. Come on Sasquatch, ya gotta help me out a little. I can't carry you," Dean said, desperately trying to get him back up off the floor.
Sam forced one foot in front of the other until they reached the Impala and allowed Dean to shove him inside and slam the door.
Dean slid behind the wheel and heard Sam mutter, "No, it can't be true."
Dean's gaze shifted toward his brother with furrowed brows, a look of concern etching its way onto his features. "What can't be true Sammy?" He asked, wondering what in the world the taller male was talking about. "Sam?" He hesitated as he watched the younger male, noticing the silence. It wasn't until Sam slumped against the passenger door that he began to really panic. "Sammy!"
Dean thought of the only thing that could possibly work: a hospital. He had no idea what happened to his brother, but he want him safe and well. Dean drove like hell was following him, "Stay with me Sammy....." he said in a panic. Dean's phone rang. It was the woman he'd left a message for. "I can't talk right now. Something's wrong with my brother," He quickly explained.
"No," she says. "His pain cannot be cured by western medicine. Bring him to me. Now."
"Ok, but wh..." he was cut off with the click of the phone, "Damnit!" Dean yelled, slamming his fist against the steering wheel and driving faster. It wasn't much longer before the Impala screeched to a stop in front of a small ranch-style home. Had he not known the woman living inside of it, Dean would have sworn the home was a normal one. After yanking the keys from the ignition he raced around the car. His hand slapped at Sam's cheek. "Come on little brother, wake up," He tried unsuccessfully. With a deep frown he pulled Sam over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and moved as fast as his legs would carry him up to the door.
Dean raised his fist and pounded hard on the door. What seemed like an eternity later, but was only a few seconds, it opened to reveal a young woman of about twenty in the doorway with a concerned look on her face, "Dean come in and put him on the couch," she said running about.
"Where's your mom?" He asked. "This is serious. I want her to look at him."
She frowned up at him. "A lot has changed since you last saw me Dean. I am no longer a child and I know what I'm doing. Mama won't be back until later, but if you'd rather wait..."
"No. No, I can't risk that now. I trust you," Dean said looking at her. His only concern was Sam at the moment. "Is it serious?" he asked, now sitting by Sam in a chair.
The girl frowned as she looked over the younger Winchester. "It's really not as bad as it could be," She replied and sighed softly, "Although it's not good, either."
"What do we do?" Dean asked now, barely taking his worried gaze off of his brother.
"'We don't do anything. You sit there and look pretty while I fix him," She retorted with a quick grin, then turned away to begin her work.
"But what’s wrong with him?" Dean asked, he didn't want to see his baby brother go through this.
"A spell." She replied. "The spirit that was floating around that place somehow hooked itself into your brother. The same spell that bound the spirit to the place and kept you from being able to shoot it down has settled itself into Sam." She sighed and frowned a little while looking back at Dean. "I just have to figure out how to knock it out of him."
"We're warded from possession," Dean said, showing her his tattoo.
She sighed, "Do you not remember anything we taught you Dean? That is for standard demon possession. This? This is the work of a powerful voodoo priest or priestess. They know ways around such things."
"But why him?" Dean asked. He had to protect his brother at any cost and if that meant pushing to get his answers, he would.
The girl shook her head at the question, frowning in return, "Wrong place, wrong time. It could have just as easily been you," She replied.
"So, if I'd walked back there instead of Sam, it'd be me on the couch," Dean muttered and sighed, his eyes locked onto his brother’s face. "Can you get it out of him, Cora?"
"Of course I can! Who do you think you're talking to?" She responded with a smile, hoping to lighten the mood a little. "I'll get him back to normal Dean, I promise. Just give me a little time." The brunette shifted to get herself back to work while he stayed beside Sam.
"Will it hurt him Cora?" Dean asked, his protective state had come out and he was only worried about his brother right now, nothing else.
The girl frowned a little at the question, glad that her back was to Dean so he wouldn't see her face. After a moment or two she turned back to look at him. "It's possible," She stated and stepped closer to the elder male. Her hand came to rest comfortingly on his shoulder. "It just depends on how tightly it's latched onto him." Her gaze danced over Sam for a moment before looking back to Dean, "I'll do what I can to ease any pain." She told him before turning back to the small table where she'd gathered several talismans, herbs, candles and an empty bowl.
"I want to help. Please, I can't stand seeing him like this," Dean said without thinking, his eyes looked up at her, full of concern. Dean recognized a few of the herbs from old standbys. Wolf’s bane, yarrow root, a sprig of belladonna. But then there was a jar of liquid, black as coal and viscous. It couldn't be he thought. "Is that hellhound’s blood?" Dean asked, his gaze met Cora's
The girl shifted to look back at him and shook her head. "No, there's nothing you can do to help right now," She stated as she picked up the wolf’s bane. As she broke off a little piece she turned toward him, then looked to the jar. "This? No. It's the sap of an ancient redwood, magical properties and whatnot," She lied with a little smile and looked back to the table.
Dean shook off the exchange and turned his focus back to his brother. His breathing had become labored; beads of sweat forming on his forehead and pooling at the base if his neck
Cora took in a steadying breath, glad that Dean had believed her so easily. Without another word the girl began mixing things into the bowl, then glanced back toward the unconscious male before tipping the jar of hellhound blood toward the rest and pouring some of the thick smelly liquid in.
As the girl muttered an incantation, Sam's began to choke and wheeze. It was obvious that he was fighting whatever was happening, but he was losing.
Sam awoke in a dark musty smelling room, large enough only for him to crouch. He frantically checked his pockets for the matches he kept on hand. Outside he could only hear a faint whistling of wind. As he lit a match a face appeared and then quickly vanished. Mom? He rubbed his eyes and realized the state he was in. Panic began to set in as he hammered his fists into the concrete walls. No give, nothing. He was stuck.
Dean immediately knew Cora had lied to him. He of all people knew exactly what a Hellhound's blood smelled like, but at the moment he didn't care. "Sammy! Come on man, fight!" He called to him, holding him down by the shoulders as he writhed on the couch. "Hurry up! Can't you see he's in pain?"
Cora continued muttering the incantation, her eyes closing as she tried to block out the sight of Sam fighting against it. Of course Dean would know what the hellhound blood smelled like, she'd forgotten that. It was too late now, though. The ingredients were mixed, the spell had begun. Hearing Dean's plea she shook her head. "I'm sorry Dean. I... I didn't have a choice," She told him now, worry and fear settling into her features.
Inside Sam's mind he was adjusting to the darkness and the lack of sound, his knuckles bleeding from pounding the concrete walls. He was panting and sweating. A cold air hit the side of his face and Sam struggled to light a match again with his badly damaged hands.
"What do you mean you didn't have a choice!?” Dean asked, rather loudly, actually. He was still holding down his brother, his mind was in two different places: the words that Cora had said and keeping Sam safe.
"He's got my mom and... I had to help him, Dean. I'm sorry! I had to save my mom!" She shrieked, watching as Sam began to convulse. The petite woman backed away, knowing that she could help, but if she did it would cost her mother’s and her own lives.
"Who the hell are you talking about!? And what did you do to Sam!?" Dean's attention
immediately turned to Cora, his anger was mixed with his worry for Sam.
"I put the spell on him so you would have to bring him here. And now he's dying," She said with her back to the wall, eyes focused more on Sam than on Dean. "Any minute the hounds will be here." Her voice was smaller on that part before her gaze snapped to Dean's face, "I had to save my mother. I couldn't let him kill her!"
The light flickered and died as the first match sparked and fizzled out. A bead of sweat trickled to the end if Sam's nose and dropped onto the open book of matches. The sound of the wind outside died into deafening silence. Now there was nothing. No light. No sound, just this creeping cold. “Was this death?” Sam thought. “Was he experiencing the coldness of death?”
"Let go" a voice whispered into his ear. "Let the pain go, Sam"
"Mom?" Sam said aloud. Startled by his own voice. "Who's there?" He demanded.
"Why the fuck would you do that!? I will kill you!!!" Dean yelled.
"Sam," The voice came again. Soothing. Familiar. Sam squinted his eyes in the darkness to try to see. The pain had left his hands. He felt no pain at all actually. Not the usual pains and aches, nothing. Sam peered into the darkness as a blurry figure came into view. It wasn't his mother, but he felt at ease.
"You're a reaper aren't you" Sam resigned in a sigh.
"I'm here to take you Sam. Things are about to get very ugly outside these walls. You are being protected inside here. But understand this Sam. You are going to die," It said.
"Go ahead and kill me. It won't save him now," she breathed, fighting back tears as she watched the younger Winchester. "I'm sorry, Dean."
Sam heard a faint sound outside the concrete tomb, a sickening howl all too familiar to the Winchesters. Hellhounds. "It has to be now Sam" the reaper insisted. The sound of howling was approaching fast. Sam flashed to the memory of his brother being ripped apart by the soulless beings. His breath quickened, bracing himself for the inevitable.
"No!" he growled. "I'm not leaving my brother again! You hear me? I'm not leaving him. There has to be a way, some way. I have a brother out there, I can't just leave him. I didn't want this! Somebody else did this to me," Sam said his voice rising. He couldn't leave Dean because of someone else’s mistakes.
Dean said nothing to Cora but instead ran for the impala. Turning over frantically the contents of the trunk he hoped what was looking for was still there. If the hounds were coming for Sam at least he'd be ready. And there in the corner were two pairs of reading glasses. Dean slammed the trunk of the impala demon blade in hand and threw the glasses on.
"All right you son of a bitch. Come on!" He yelled.
Cora shook her head as she watched Dean run for the car. Her breath caught as she watched the Sam’s struggle for air and knew he was dying. At least she had managed to ease his pain mentally. Sure, he probably knew he was dying, but it didn't hurt. At least not that she was aware of. When Dean returned, a brow rose. "You won't save him Dean."
"Don't talk to me bitch, I will save him and you can't stop me," Dean said, his anger clearly showing now as he waited for something to happen. "Get out of my way," Dean muttered as he shoved Cora and headed to her pantry. A small bottle of gooffer dust sat among the sundries. He grabbed the bottle and slid over to Sam encircling him in the brownish substance.
"Dean! Stop!" She called out, knowing already that he was ignoring her. As he began spreading the goofer dust she sighed and called out again. "Dean! That won't help! These hounds aren't going to attack him from the outside," She finished a little quieter.
Dean stopped what he was doing and slowly looked at you, "What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, clearly angry.
Sam's breath quickened as the hounds grew closer, the breath of one hot on his neck, the pungent odor of death and brimstone overtook him.
"It’s okay. I can do this. I'm okay," Sam barely choked out between breaths. The first slash of claws hit his chest like fire. Pain immediately seared through him and Sam screamed in pain.
She felt her breathing hitch at the look he gave her. Dean was obviously murderous and it was her own doing. "I mean that you won't see them, you won't hear them. You won't know when they're here. They're coming for Sam only and they're tackling him from the inside out." She chewed at her lower lip, glancing toward Sam as his breathing shifted around. "I... I can stop them if you promise to save my mom," she whispered.
"Why didn't you just say that in the first place!?" Dean growled, clearly angry at her for everything that had happened.
"Because I didn't realize until now that I can't just watch someone die!" She shrieked back. She watched in horror as blood began to pour from Sam’s abdomen. "Oh," was all she could manage. They were obviously too late.
"You have to stop whatever you did, Sam can still be saved!!" Dean yelled, not giving up on his brother.
The blood obviously threw her, but Dean's shout brought her back around. Without another word the girl shoved the previous contents of the altar to the floor, quickly grabbing fresh.
"Dean!" Sam screamed from inside his head. Hounds were thrashing and tearing at his flesh.
"No....No!!!" His body became weak. His eyes began to roll back in his head.
The girl scrambled about, collecting various things and keeping her eyes off of Sam. She could hear him and that was enough. Plus Dean's frantic speech wasn't helping her either. Throwing items into the bowl in front of her, she glanced toward Dean once before beginning the incantation, eyes squeezing tightly shut as she spoke quickly, hands clasped in front of her.
Dean waited helplessly as Cora repeated the incantation. He slid his hand around Sam's who was still fighting from inside his head but his movement s became more listless. Sam's breath was labored and weakening, a small trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.
Cora rattled off the incantation, squeezing her eyes shut tightly until she sucked in a sharp breath, eyes flying wide and landing quickly on Dean. Sam's wounds wouldn't heal on their own, but the bleeding slowed and no new ones showed up.
What happened instead was a spot of red blossomed on Cora's shirt. "Save my mom Dean," She half-gurgled. The girl had turned the hounds on herself to save Sam. Cora knew that by allowing him to live she'd already signed her own death certificate. Better to go out on her own than waiting for it.
Dean watched the light flicker in Cora's eyes, then fade and she smiled slightly as her senses left her. Dean turned his attention back to Sam who was beginning to emerge from his dream state.
"Sammy! Sam! Damn it you stay with me buddy! Sam!" Dean held a nearby cloth to his wounds. Sam's eyes fluttered open slowly.
"Dean? What happened? How did I get out?" Sam whispered.
Dean just held him, checking his wound, and searching for more. Nothing. And he was talking, which was always a good sign. "Cora is what happened. Come on, we gotta get out of here." As he half lifted, half dragged Sam off the couch, he heard a key in the front door and his blood ran cold.
Sam and Dean exchanged looks. Sam new what he needed to do. The lock clicked open and Cora's mother walked into the house carrying a satchel.
"Cora honey? Cora?" She noticed the blood on the floor and a path of blood leading to the couch where Sam lay, apparently dead. Her eyes flashed black as she reached for a blade from her bag and walked over to Sam. Demons were under strict orders to make sure the Winchesters were dead. Just as she was about to plunge the blade into Sam's neck, his eyes flashed open and he grabbed her hand, and head butted her, staggering her back into Dean. Dean plunged the demon blade into her back and she crumpled to the floor.
"Sorry Cora" Dean offered coldly.
"I see some things never change. Always were very efficient with that blade, weren't you Dean?" A voice said, from the direction of the door.
Sam picked up the demon blade, ready to throw it at the woman standing there, only to be stopped by Dean's hand. "Sammy, no!" He said.
Sam looked at him like he'd lost his mind. She had just witnessed them murder someone, and if her looks were any indication, she was related. Dean took the blade from him and sheathed it then walked over to her. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "She was possessed. It was her or us."
She stared at him for a moment, then nodded her head, apparently believing him. Dean took her hand and looked over at Sam, a wary look still on his face. "Sam, this is Catherine. Cate. She is, was, Cora's older sister. She's a white witch. A voodoo priestess. I was once apprenticed to her."