Kevin Tran x OC

Chapter 8

We brought Cas back to the bunker and started looking for a way to cure a demon, there was so much on it. Dean was pretty pissed at Cas for leaving and loosing the angel tablet. Then we found out he had a secret dungeon, and found a tape so we watched it and it was weird, they tried to cure a demon, but it blow up for some reason. Sam, Dean and me went to visit one of the priest that were there. Sam started coughing up blood again, Dean told the priest about the trials, and the he gave us father Thompson's stuff on the cure for demons. We went back to the bunker and looked through his stuff. We listened to one of his tapes, at the end of the tape father Thompson actually did it.

"Did he just... cure a demon?" Sam asked.

"Maybe." Dean said. "Could we take this hoodoo on a test drive?"

"Um, I mean, I have the exorcism right here." Sam said pointing to a paper in the folder in front of him. "All we need is the blood, consecrated ground, and a demon. So, what? We summon a demon, trap it-" Dean cut him off.

"Or-- or we use the one that we've already tagged. Do we still have dad's old army field surgeon's kit?"

"It's still in the trunk. Why?"

"Yeah, I think it's time we put humpty dumpty back together again." He said and got up heading to the car.

"What?" I asked literally confused out of my mind.

~~~~~~~~~

    Dean was talking about Abaddon. We sewed her back together.

"Morning sunshines." She said with a smirk, her makeup was all smeared, and there was dried blood going down her neck to her chest.

"It worked." Dean said in awe. "You owe me a beer." He said tapping Sam on the shoulder.

"And I owe you both so, so much. I can't wait to tear out those pretty green eyes." She threatened. I chuckled.

"Good luck with that." Sam said smirking.

"We figured kitty didn't need her claws." Dean said. Abaddon looked down a saw she didn't have hands, the one thing we didn't sew back on.

"Then I'll stump you to death, it'll be swell." She said and tried to stand, but couldn't.

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen, either." Sam said. "The bullet-- remember?" He said referring to the bullet in her head that had a demon trap on it, which our grandfather shot her with.

"So you sit there like a good little bitch." Dean said. "We're gonna consecrate the ground, and you're gonna get to fessing up."

"Oh, I know this tune." She said.

"I doubt that." Sam said.

"Father Max Thompson, born October 12, 1910. Died August 5, 1958. Who do you think ripped him apart? Word got back to home office that Maxie was messing with things, so we made an example. It wasn't my most artful kill, but it was effective. And bonus-- before he died, he told me all about Josie Sands. I found her, and I rode her into the Men of Letters. And what I did to them, that was art." She laughed.

"So you know what Max was doing?"

"Fella screamed the basics... But it'll never work."

"You keep telling yourself that." Dean said, then Sam's phone rang, He answered it.

"Crowley."

"Crowley?" She said shocked. "The salesman?" She asked.

"Try the king of hell." Dean said.

"This is a joke, right?" Sam motioned us outside.

"Stay." We went outside.

"Hold on." Sam said and put the phone on speaker. "How'd you get this number?"

"Ah, first things first--" Crowley's voice came from the phone. "What are you wearing?"

"Oh, okay, hanging up now. hang up." Dean said.

"Fine. This isn't a social call. I was wondering. You lads been reading the papers, say, Denver times from yesterday? No? Well you should. Its side-splitting." Dean looked for it in his phone. "Well then hell, I'm sexing you an address. Check it out. Then we'll talk. Cheerio." And the call ended.

"Here it is." Dean said pulling the paper on his phone. "Vic's name is Tommy Collins. Tommy. Why do I know that name?"

"Well, Tommy Collins, we saved him from a wendigo like forever ago." Sam said.

"Oh yeah, that hot guy." I muttered.

"Okay, and, what, you think that Crowley blew his head off?" Dean asked. "Well, what are we dealing with here? Some sort of demon-wendigo team-up?"

"Uh, no clue."

"All right, well, we'll pour one for Tommy later." And we started heading inside. "As far as Crowley goes, screw him. We got everything we need to put him in a permanent time-out." We went in and saw that Abaddon wasn't there anymore. "No. No! No! No! No! She's gone. She's-- Son of a bitch!" Sam found the bullet on the ground.

"Dean! Dean." He showed him then his phone went off. "It's a text message from Crowley-- an address in Prosperity, Indiana."

"Prosperity? Didn't we work a case there? Yeah, yeah, the one with the witches and the baked goods. So what? He's going after somebody there now?"

"I don't know. We gotta check it out."

"Well, you know it's a trap."

"Of course it's a trap. But a trap means demons, and we could use one right now." So we drove to Prosperity. When we got to the women that we saved house, Jenny, the light weren't working, and there was a smell of burned flesh. We found her, with her head in the oven. Then Crowley called. "What the hell are you doing, Crowley?"

"Oh, Moosie, isn't it obvious? I'm killing everyone you've ever saved-- The damsels in distress, the innocent whippersnappers, the would-be vampire chow-- all of them."

"How do you even know--" Dean asked.

"I have my sources and a cracking research team. When you kids hit a town, you tend to leave a mess. Now, you're probably wondering why my droogs aren't in there giving you the bum's rush, so let's brass these tracks, shall we? I'm gonna gut on person every 12 hours until you bring me the demon tablet and stop this whole trials nonsense."

"We don't have the tablet. Kevin took it and--" Crowley cut Sam off.

"I took Kevin. Then someone took him back. Word from the cloud is that it wasn't heaven. So either the cutest little prophet in the world is with you two lads, or you better find him tout-bloody-suite because time, she is a-wasting. About now, you're thinking of ways to stop me. You won't be able to, but you'll try because that's what you do. You--you try. So, time for an object lesson. Indianapolis, the ivy motel, room 116. You have 57 minutes." And the call ended. We rushed to the address, and found Sarah, the girl we helped with the killer girl in a painting. We set up devils traps and everything to keep Sarah safe. Then the phone rang, and it was Crowley.

"Five..." He started counting backward. "Four... Trios... Zwei... Uho." The clock struck 12:00 and Sarah started choking. We looked all over the room for a hex bag, but couldn't find it, Crowley was mocking us, then Sarah died, then we found the hex bag, it was in the phone. We went back to the bunker and tried to figure out what we were going to do.