Song Remains the Same

Chapter 28: Bullets in the Gun

"He went down, down, down...
and the devil called him by name."
- Tom Waits

Four Years Ago

A son held his father at gunpoint.

"Dean, it's me," John Winchester protested, hands raised.

"I know my dad better than anyone," The Colt was steady in Dean's grip, his sick expression twisted into a fierce glare. "And you ain't him."

"The hell's gotten into you?" John asked in disbelief.

"I could ask you the same thing." Dean wasn't fooled for a second. "Stay back."

The abandoned shack went quiet, the air charged with tension. That was the moment that Sam returned from checking the salt lines. His face was bruised and bloody with a swollen eye from a demon encounter earlier that day. He saw his father and brother and stopped short. "Dean! What the hell's going on?!" Behind him, Alex emerged from further back and her expression dropped, matching Sam's almost instantaneously. Like her twin, she'd also been in a tussle: The entire left side of her face was a mess, her lip was cracked and bloody, and her dark green jacket was ripped. Her silver whistle glinted against her shirt.

Dean edged closer to his siblings, keeping the revolver trained on their father... who wasn't their father.

"Your brother's lost his mind," John told Sam darkly.

Dean felt a flare of fear and panic. "He's not Dad," he insisted.

"What?" Sam sounded like his brother had suggested the unthinkable.

"I think he's possessed." Dean's voice was beginning to waver because how could he have been so stupid? "I... I think he's been possessed since we rescued him."

The twins were both shellshocked.

"Don't listen to him, Sammy," John said, relatively calm and commanding despite the tense situation.

Sam hesitated uncertainly, eyes darting to his brother. "Dean, how do you know?" Beside him, Alex studied their father, trying to see what Dean saw too.

"He's... he's different," Dean managed, barely able to think straight.

"We don't have time for this," John said urgently, sounding every bit like their father, making it hard to figure out if Dean was telling the truth or not. "Sam, Alex, you wanna kill this demon, you've gotta trust me."

Sam looked at Dean then their dad and there was a long moment of silence. Alex put a hand on Sam's arm and pulled, moving toward Dean just slightly—her way of siding with her brother.

"Sam," John appealed in a soft and pleading tone of voice none of them had ever heard him use.

With distress gathering on his face, Sam began to shake his head. "No," he quietly told whoever it was possessing their dad. "No."

"Fine." John looked disappointed in his children, who huddled near each other. "The three of you are so sure, go ahead." He almost appeared to be fighting tears. "Kill me." He bowed his head, waiting... but Dean didn't pull the trigger. The Colt would kill the demon... and Dad, too. Alex looked at Dean in terrified anticipation and Sam stood stock still, holding his breath. They were all hoping Dean was wrong. Hoping it was Dad in front of them, not a demon.

But turns out, Dean was right.

"I thought so." John's voice had gotten ominously deeper and there was a little smile on his lips. When his eyes rose, they were chillingly yellow. Their worst fears were realized. And before any of them could respond, they went flying separate ways, thrown up against three different walls to remain pinned helplessly. The Colt clattered to the floor out of Dean's grip and John—the demon—bent and casually picked it up. "What a pain in the ass this thing's been," he muttered.