Hell's Greatest Weapon

Chapter 3: The Smallest Sacrifice

Dean’s yelling from his make-do prison was loud and distracting, enough to make Sam wince with every syllable.  Vulgarities and growls sounded every few seconds, interrupting your conversation with Sam, but neither of you was truly sure what to do about the monster in the other room.

“If I take human blood I can cure him, I told you,” Sam was saying, his hands on either side of his face as he spoke.  “A couple years ago we found out that demons can be converted into—“

“I know, Sam, I remember you telling me, but I’m just saying.” You put your hands up defensively and shook your head, being honest when you said “I feel like I would have heard if that was a possibility.”

“Well you’ve been out for five years, so—“

“But don’t you think the thousands of years prior would have presented this info to me?” You asked, your voice a bit more accusatory and harsh than you intended.  Your hands clenched and you took a moment to collect yourself before shaking your head and clearing your throat.  “It just seems a lot like cheating death to me, and I know for a fact that Death isn’t fond of that.”

“What else do you suggest?” Sam’s voice was just shy of a yell as he asked this, and within a moment he was on his feet and staring down at you from across the table.  The library lighting bounced off of the youngest Winchester’s hair in such a way that shadows were cast across his face, making him seem more menacing than you figured he ever intended to.  He brought a hand up and gestured in the direction of Dean’s yelling and shook his head, saying “I can’t leave him like that and I can’t let him continue living like he is.”

“Like a demon?” You asked after a brief silence, to which Sam nodded.

“Like a demon.”

Another yell erupted from Dean’s room followed by a surprisingly creative string of expletives.  Sam’s eyes scrunched shut and his hand went up to cover his eyes as his head shook; obviously overwhelmed, he fell back down into his chair and propped his elbows up on the table, resting his head in his hands.

“I don’t know what to do.” He mumbled, shaking his head.  “I don’t know what to do.”

You stood then, earning yourself a look from Sam, but you held out a hand and shook your head, silently urging him to stay seated.  Turning on a heel, you walked out of the library and toward Dean’s room; almost as if he had heard you, Dean stopped yelling and silence fell throughout the entire bunker.

You had been standing outside the door for a few seconds when Sam approached you from behind, silently asking what your plan was. Turning to him, you struggled to bring your eyes to his as you requested that you have some time alone with Dean.

“It’s not Dean, Y/N.” Sam whispered, his eyes wandering over your shoulder and toward the door behind you.  “That is not Dean. You haven’t seen him in years and it’s not even him anymore, I don’t think you hold any power over him.”

“Fifteen minutes.” You said, your eyebrows rising in the meantime. “I just want to know where he is, whether there’s any bit of human left in him.”

“You can do that?”

“I can try.”

Sam was silent, contemplating this for a moment before he finally nodded and took a step back, his hands pressed in the rear pockets of his jeans as he did so.  “Fine,” he said, “Yeah.  Yeah, try.”

You nodded and turned to the door, pushing it open and walking in to see the monster that waited.  After taking a moment to be sure that the door was closed tightly behind you, you approached Dean, staring directly into the black abysses that were his eyes.