Saints or Sinners | {BOOK 3}

63| First Trial Complete

I touched my side gingerly, grimacing. A white bandage peeked through the slashes in my shirt. Dean was hovering by my shoulder while Sam and Ellie stood off to the side. Sam's shirt was covered in black blood and he was holding his button up in one hand.

"Mnh," I winced. "I liked this shirt."

"You need to go to the hospital," Ellie said.

"Oh, I've had worse," I dismissed her.

Ellie looked from me to Dean.

"Yeah, she's had worse," he confirmed.

"So, what now?"

"Now, we make you a hex bag, and you start running," I informed her. "If Crowley can't find you, then he won't be able to sic another mutt on you."

"So, I'm not going to Hell?"

"Not on our watch," Dean nodded. "Will you give us a minute?"

"Sure."

"Thanks."

Ellie walked off, leaving us alone. Dean waited until the door was closed, then snapped his fingers at Sam.

"Guys, even if she can dodge Crowley, as soon as Ellie dies, her soul is earmarked for Hell."

"Now if we shut it down first," Dean pointed out, snatching Sam's button down from his hand.

"The spell's not going to work for you, Dean," I pointed out.

Sam had killed the hound and bathed in its blood, which meant he was the one who was doing the trials. Ignoring me, Dean pulled the paper with the spell out of the pocket of Sam's shirt and recited the spell.

"Kah-nuh-ahm-dahr."

He looked around, but there was predictably no response.

"Doesn't matter. We'll track down another hellhound, and I'll kill it."

"No," Sam and I chorused.

"Guys, I didn't pass the test."

"But I did," Sam said. "And I'm doing the rest of them."

"My ass you are!"

"I'm closing the gates," Sam insisted. "It's a suicide mission for you... and it would be for Ellie, too."

Dean eyed my bandage and torn shirt before looking back at his brother.

"Sam..."

"I want to slam Hell shut, too, okay?" Sam started raising his voice. "But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you've got your own room, a wife who loves you. You were right, okay? I see a light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't- I am. But it's there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it."

I swallowed hard, looking over at Dean. Apparently, I wasn't the only one feeling hopeless these days. Dean and I were both terrible at communicating, especially with each other. It made me wonder if we could ever make our marriage work.

"Sam, be smart," Dean said.

"I am smart, and so are you. You're not a grunt, Dean. You're a genius- when it comes to lore, to- you're the best hunter I've seen. Better than me, better than Dad. Better than Ellie. I believe in you, Dean. So, please- please, believe in me, too."

Neither brother said anything for a moment, and then Dean slapped the paper into Sam's outstretched hand.

"Kah-nuh-ahm-dahr."

There was a whooshing sound and Sam went bug eyed, twisting around and falling to his knees with a grunt of pain.

"Sammy? Sam!"

There was a crackling sound and Sam dropped the paper with the Enochian symbols. The veins in his right hand and arm were highlighted with a bright white light while he grimaced in pain.

"You okay?" Dean asked him.

Still gasping, Sam clambered to his feet as the light dissipated from his arm and he grabbed the paper off the ground.

"I'm good. I'm okay. I can do this."

⁘

Our next few cases were interesting. The one immediately following the first trial involved an old buddy of ours, James Frampton, who had apparently turned to witchcraft. At first we thought James was killing people, but it turned out to be a different witch who wanted James's familiar, Portia, for himself. After that case, we dealt with this guy, Shane, who turned out to be the Titan Prometheus. He was cursed by Zeus to die every day, and so to break the curse, we had to... kill Zeus. Like I said, they were interesting cases.

We were now back at the Bunker, and despite the fact that Sam insisted he was fine, Dean and I could both tell the first trial messed him up a bit. He coughed violently into a tissue while looking for another case on his laptop while Dean and I were working on sorting through boxes the Men of Letters left behind.

"Hey, Doc Holliday, you all right over there?" Dean asked him.

"Uh, yeah," Sam continued to cough. "Um... I'm fine. Just, uh, wrong pipe."

I glanced over at him as he took a drink of water, clearing his throat and coughing a little more.

"Well, hello," Dean said.

I turned to see him looking through an old porn magazine.

"These Men of Letters weren't so boring after all. Kon'nichiwa."

He made his way back toward the table where Sam was sitting.

"Hey, check this out."

"Dude, what is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? You kidding me? This is a first edition, dude," Dean continued to flip through the magazine. "You know what this would go for on eBay?"

"No," I replied before Sam could. "Why? Do you?"

Dean looked over to where I was folding my arms, leaning against the doorframe and staring at him expectantly.

"No. Maybe..." he looked back at Sam. "Did you find anything?"

"I did, yeah," Sam confirmed, "uh, dead bodies showing up all over the Midwest last week. Benton, Indiana; Downers Grove, Illinois; uh, Novi, Michigan; and then again last night in Lincoln Springs, Missouri."

"And how is this us?" I called over from my spot.

"Because each of the victims had severe burns around their eyes, hands, and feet, puncture wounds through the backs of their hands, eyes and internal organs liquefied."

"That sounds like us," Dean smacked his lips, focusing on the magazine.

"Yeah. Also, no link between any of the victims. Uh, one was a real-estate agent. Another was a local historian. Woman killed last night was a teacher."

"So, Chupacabra," Dean supplied and Sam chuckled. "What do we got? Power tools gone rogue? Wait- are we talking a-a 'Maximum Overdrive' situation here?"

"I don't know. Worth a shot, though. I'll grab my gear. We should probably leave in five."

"Mhm..."

"'Less, of course, you need some more time with Miss October," I shot at Dean.

"What?" he glanced over at me, then up at Sam. "Oh. Yeah. Yeah, make it 10."

I rolled my eyes as Sam chuckled and left the room. Once he was out of sight, Dean set the magazine down and I came over to him as he picked up the trash can where Sam had discarded the bloody tissue he'd coughed into. We shared a look before heading down the hall to get ready to head out on the case.