1x22 -- Devil's Trap

[salver]

Bobby Singer looks out the window, past the hubcaps nailed to the black boards on the outside of the house like encroaching barnacles, and raises his eyebrows the proverbial six feet.

Anybody approaching the salvage yard that fast has business with him -- and not the kind where he's supposed to be a legitimate businessman, either. Bobby's got himself a nice-looking elephant graveyard: this is where cars go to die, and rust, and -- sometimes -- lie in wait to be dismantled for other purposes. Any way you want to look at it, there's a fair amount of metal lying around. Lots of places to hide. Lots of cover.

(And Rumsfeld the rottweiler to set up a ruckus.)

Bobby knows cars (among other things), and there's only one hunter he knows of driving a car like that. Hunters, now. Plural. It's still Team Winchester in the black Impala, but the lineup's changed. Not John and Dean, not any more: Dean and Sam. The college boy.

Ten minutes later he's got the Winchester boys inside and set up in his living room -- Sam at Bobby's desk, with a stack of books to hand and one open in front of him (and that short stack didn't even make a dent in his collection, piles twenty deep in some places spread over every flat surface and some surfaces that aren't so flat), Dean at the walls, feasting his eyes on the collection of pinned-up symbols and maps (the hunter's wallpaper, Bobby sometimes thinks to himself, without much humor) to see if there's anything familiar-looking -- while he goes looking for fortifying materials. Ammunition.

They come in two silver flasks, the first of which he passes off to Dean. "Here you go."

Comments

[gavemea_45]

Sam turns to look at Meg-- at Meg, not just some demonic bitch. He has to swallow, hard, to keep the bile from rising in his throat.

In Indiana, in Chicago-- what if some of it was really her, and not the demon? Oh God, does she know what's happening to her?

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean feels it, then, the startling rush of a really freakin' brilliant idea.

The nausea he can deal with later.

"You know, I'm kinda thinking that's actually good news."

[gavemea_45]

Good is relative.

A few seconds later, Sam's standing at Dean's side, journal in hand.

I really hope you're right about this.

He glances down at the page to double-check his place, then looks up and gives Dean a nod.

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean doesn't nod back, just turns and heads toward Meg.

She looks up at their approach, smile arsenic-sweet.

"Are you boys gonna read me a story?"

Dean doesn't smile back, just watches her with cold eyes.

"Something like that."

Now he does give her the barest hint of smirk, shifting to give his brother more room.

"Hit it, Sam."

Christ, this had better work.

[gavemea_45]

He nods again, then focuses all his attention on Meg and the thing inside her.

"Regna terrae, cantate Deo; psallite Domino."

Kingdoms of the earth, sing unto God; sing praises to the Lord.

There's conviction in his tone, itself speaking of an underlying belief in the power behind the ritual. As he speaks, Sam begins to walk clockwise, circling Meg.

"...qui fertis super caelum caeli ... "

... that carry above the sky of heaven...

Meg doesn't try to twist around to look at Sam, but stares at Dean in something approaching disbelief.

"An exorcism? Are you serious?"

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean smiles, smug and pissed and deadly.

"Oh, we're going for it, baby."

He pauses a second, lets that sink in.

"Head spinning, projectile vomiting--the whole nine yards."

Just as long as nobody does anything kinky with a crucifix.

Because just--

Hell no.

[gavemea_45]

...attribute the virtue to God.

"... tribuite virtutem Deo."

Something intangible changes in the feel of the room, and Meg lets out a small cry of pain.

Sam's gaze meets Dean's.

It's working.

[hopeitsworthit]

You bet your ass it's working, Sam.

Dean holds Sammy's look for a second, then shifts his attention back to Meg. Better get a grip while the getting's good, right?

Maybe he spoke too soon.

Meg looks up at him, smile still firmly in place. Dean'll give her this, she's a freakin' good actress.

"I'm going to kill you. I'm gonna rip the bones from your body."

Dean smiles at her, eyebrows raised.

"I'm touched. Really. But I'm pretty sure you're gonna burn in hell."

Beat.

"Unless you tell us where our Dad is."

He pauses again, waiting. Meg doesn't do anything except smile. Well--he never really figured this was gonna be easy.

"Guess you'll end up with a pretty nice tan, though."

You know, if she likes that kinda shit.

Sam gets another look, and the tiniest of nods.

Go on, Sammy. Make the bitch hurt.

[gavemea_45]

He hesitates, but only for a second.

Get out of her. Leave her be!

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,"

We exorcise you, every impure spirit,

"omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii,"

every satanic power, every incursion of the infernal adversary,

Sam's voice strengthens, becoming more commanding, and as the words continue to fall into the air Meg begins to twitch and tremble, struggling against her bonds.

every legion, every congregation and diabolical sect.

"omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica--"

He breaks off there as she lets out a wordless howl, gasping in pain, then glares at Dean.

"He begged for his life with tears in his eyes. He begged to see his sons one last time," she snarls.

"That’s when I slit his throat."

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean's jaw barely clenches this time.

He just leans closer to Meg, voice low and fierce and so very fucking serious.

"For your sake, I hope you're lying."

He's lying. It's not for her sake at all.

"Because if it is true? I swear to God I will march down into hell myself and kill every last one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me God."

It's a sheer effort of will that keeps him from throttling her, pointless as that would be.

A sheer effort of will, and the still-disarming fact that he'd also be throttling some chick that's never done him any harm.

Goddammit.

[gavemea_45]

By the time Dean leans forward, Sam's reciting again.

"...perditionis venenum propinare."

...the poison of eternal perdition.

He takes a breath and straightens, then raises his voice as he calls out,

"Vade, satana, inventor et magister omnis fallaciae!"

Depart, Satan, inventor and master of all deceit--

The windows are closed and sealed, marked with salt and protected, and yet it doesn't seem to matter to the wind that begins to rise. It tears through the room, flipping the pages of Bobby's books and whirling around them with malicious violence so that Sam has to raise his voice in order to be heard above the sound.

"--Humiliare sub potenti manu dei. Contremisce et effuge. Invocato a nobis sancto et terribile nomine. Quem inferi tremunt--"

--to be humble under the Powerful Hand of God. Tremble and flee! I invoke for us the sacred and terrible Name at which those down below tremble--

[hopeitsworthit]

Meg cries out again.

Dean moves in for the kill.

"Where is he?"

She grits her teeth, snarling up at him. "You just won't take no for an answer, will you?"

Dean ignores her.

"Where is he?"

Her voice is full of pain and sly satisfaction when she answers, "Dead."

In that moment Dean wants to kill her. With his bare hands.

"No! He's not! He's not dead. He can't be!"

He can't. Just--no.

[gavemea_45]

The flow of the exorcism stops.

Sam's watching Dean now instead of Meg, concern written on his face.

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean looks up at Sam, expression hard and closed.

"What are you doing? Keep reading."

Keep reading before he loses his nerve.

[gavemea_45]

His mouth is dry. Sam has to lick his lips before he's able to continue, stammering at first.

"Ab--ab insidiis diaboli, libera nos, Domine."

From the snares of the devil, free us, Lord.

Please, he thinks, sending up a desperate prayer of his own as he reads. Please help us. Help us save Dad--

"Ut Ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos."

That your Church may serve you in safety, we ask you, hear us.

The chair slews to one side, then skids forward to the edge of the circle while Meg shrieks, and Sam stares for a second-- but only that.

Please--

"Ut inimicos sanctae Ecclesiae humiliare digneris, te rogamus, audi nos!

That you may destroy the enemies of your sacred Church, we ask you, hear us!

[hopeitsworthit]

"He will be!

"Wait."

Dean holds up a hand to stop Sam.

"What?"

Meg grits her teeth again.

"He's not dead, but he will be after what we do to him."

Dean clenches his jaw. He needs more than that, he needs--

"How do we know you're telling the truth?"

Her reply is simple, almost sweet. "You don't."

"Sam."

No more Mr. Nice Guy.

[gavemea_45]

Sam doesn't even get the next word out before Meg shrieks,

"A building! It's a building, okay? In Jefferson City."

[hopeitsworthit]

It's a start.

"Missouri? Where. Where? An address."

Give him an address, dammit. Give him something.

She shakes her head, voice high and tight. " I don't know."

He doesn't believe her.

[gavemea_45]

They're not likely to have another chance like this one any time soon, if ever. He's got to ask-- he can't not.

"And the demon?" Sam breaks in. "The one we’re looking for - where is it?"

Meg bows her head, sobbing for breath.

"I don’t know! I swear! That’s everything."

A beat, and then, more softly,

"That’s all I know."

[hopeitsworthit]

And whether or not that's true--

"Finish it."

[gavemea_45]

Sam's hands tighten on the book as he hesitates.

Meg has no such problem.

"What? I told you the truth!"

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean shrugs.

"I don't care."

Meg gapes at him for a second, then her eyes narrow alarmingly.

"You son of a bitch, you promised!"

Dean's expression tightens.

"I lied! Sam?"

Silence.

Dean turns to look at his brother, expression ferocious.

"Sam. Read!"

And now it's too damn hard to hide the jitters, so Dean starts pacing.

And if his path takes him right by Sam--so much the better.

[gavemea_45]

He turns as Dean passes him, reaching out to grab him by the arm.

"Maybe we can still use her."

Sam's voice is low, but hard, and the look in his eyes is calculating.

"Find out where the demon is."

[hopeitsworthit]

"She doesn't know."

Dean's trying not to yell.

It ain't easy.

[gavemea_45]

As if it's the most obvious thing in the world--

"She lied!"