Shattered: The Sequel to Mirrors

Spells and Lazarus

Ash wasn't sure how to feel after she got kidnapped by the demon. What was her name again? Abaddon? Yeah, she wasn't exactly thrilled about it. She rubbed the back of her neck, sighing. She was sitting in what looked like a child's room. There was a bed, a bookshelf, a desk. Of course, the stone walls made it look like she was frickin' Rapunzel locked in the tower, but at least the demon hadn't killed her. You had to count your blessings, right? The door opened and someone tossed a very, very tall boy into the room. 

The boy hit the floor hard and didn't move for a long second. Ash wanted to go check on him, but also wasn't sure what type of games these demons were running. So she stayed where she was. And took one of the stuffed animals off the bed and threw it at the boy's head to check if he was responsive. 

"The hell?" the boy grumbled, sitting up. He really was tall. He looked like an awkward spider creature sitting there on the floor, all long legs and flannel. His face was bruised and he had blood on his shirt. 

"Are you a demon?" Ash asked. The boy gave her an extremely impressive bitch face which Ash respected. 

"Do I look like a demon?" he grumbled, standing up. 

"Who are you?" he asked. 

"I'm Ash. One of the demon's kidnapped me...she wants me to perform a spell or something," Ash explained. The boy looked irritated, and she couldn't help but wonder why he took it so personally. 

"Well, I'm Sam Winchester. The guy who you're supposed to performing the spell on," Sam explained. Ash blinked at the boy who was trying in vain to blow his hair out of his face with his mouth. Eventually he quit and pushed it back with his fingers. 

"What am I supposed to do?" Ash asked, almost hoping he wouldn't answer. She doubted it was anything good. 

"You're supposed to use my blood to summon the demon king. Just casually," Sam explained with a scowl. "And Gabe probably won't even know what happened....and Michael..." Sam trailed off, face filled with pain. Ash had no idea who the hell he was talking about, but she really hoped they would be okay. More than that though, she wanted to find a way out of this. There was no way she was going to perform some whacked out spell with some poor guy's blood to summon the demon king. It just wanted her cup of tea, what could she say? 

"Okay....so I really don't want to do that. And I doubt you really want that to happen, so let's find a way out of here, okay?" Ash said. 

"Sounds like a good plan. What's your name?" 

"I'm Ash. Nice to meet you....it would have been better in a different situation, huh?" 

"Just a bit. Now let's break out of here." 

Dean Winchester didn't know he ended up in the box. He tried to remember something. Anything, actually, would have been helpful. The last thing he remembered was that his dad had left for a hunting trip. And he hadn't brought Dean which upset the eldest Winchester brother. it wasn't like he was a wimp like Sammy....he could handle himself. 

Except maybe not if he was stuck in a box. A box that had dirt in it. The more he looked around the box, the more he started to realize what it was. He was in a coffin. 

Dean Winchester was in a fucking coffin. 

Awesome. 

Dean sighed. 

Time to dig. And hold his breath. And try really, really hard not to die. 

Luckily, he didn't die. He managed to dig himself out of the grave (luckily it wasn't the full six feet) and laid on the ground for a long while trying to catch his breath. He was still trying to figure out how he had ended up in the coffin in the first place. It didn't exactly seem like the sort of thing a monster would do. But who else would just casually put him in a box and bury him? Without him even noticing? 

"Dean?" the voice was right by him. He looked up and squinted in the bright sunlight. 

"Dad?" Dean said, his voice gruff from not talking for a long time. However long that time was, Dean had no idea. 

"Get up," John said gruffly, pulling Dean to his feet. There was a car at the edge of the field they were in and John practically dragged Dean to it. He pushed Dean into the car, and John got in the driver's seat. 

"Dad, what happened?" Dean asked. John glanced at him. 

"What do you remember last?" John asked. Dean rubbed his forehead. 

"I don't know...you left for that job in Arizona. That's all I remember," Dean said. He forced himself to ignore the flash of excitement in John's eyes. 

"Damn demons. Kidnapped you and Sam," John said gruffly. 

"Where's Sammy?" Dean said. Despite everything John said about Sam, he was still Dean's baby brother, and he was always going to do what he could to protect him. Except from John, a tiny voice in the back of his head said. Dean ignored it. He didn't have time to think about that. 

"We're here," John said, ignoring Dean's question. It was a small house, and as soon as they walked in the door John grumbled about staying there and showering. And then he left. Dean sighed and went into the bathroom. He was covered in dirt. He definitely needed a shower. He pulled off his shirt and that's when he noticed it was. A burn mark on his upper arm in the shape of a handprint. He put his hand on top of the mark, and his brain was suddenly flooded with sensations. As soon as they came into his head however, they were gone. What had happened to him? How did he get this mark? He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. There was something very wrong with his dad too. So he had a list of things to do. 

1. Find Sammy

2. Find whoever had given him this handprint (he couldn't help but imagine running around and putting random people's hands to the print to see who's matched. He shook his head, because that would be completely ridiculous.)

3. Figure out what was wrong with his dad. 

It seemed like a good idea. Until the door to the house practically blew off it's hinges. Dean practically threw himself down the stairs, ready to deal with whatever had just entered the house. Standing in the doorway was a boy, Dean would guess about Sam's age. He was wearing a dirty trench coat and a rumpled suit. He also had a bad case of bed head. The type of hair someone would want to run their fingers through and smooth down. Not Dean, of course, but he was sure girls had the impulse to do it. He looked at Dean. 

"Who the hell are you?" Dean asked. The boy's face was filled with confusion, and then hurt. 

"I...I am an angel of the lord," the boy said. Dean scoffed. 

"Sure buddy. And I'm the devil," Dean said, still wondering where the hell this boy just appeared from. 

"No, Dean. That's my brother," the boy said, scrunching up his nose. Which was, what some girls he was sure would say was, endearing. 

"Okay, sure. What the hell are you doing here then?" Dean asked. The supposed angel cocked his head to one side. Again, one could say it was endearing. 

"Don't you remember? I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from Perdition."

Okay, so ya'll remember when Sam talked about Dean being a little bit of a jerk before Michael showed up and took them to Oregon? Yeah, I literally had that happen so that when Dean came back from Hell he wouldn't remember and then he would be a jerk and break Cassie's little heart. Sorry guys, more angst to come. 

You don't have to be social to be nice. You don't have to talk to everyone because that's what people expect of you. Sometimes you can close the door to your room or put in your headphones in a crowded place, and that's okay. You've got to remember to take care of yourself, above all else. 

I have the honor to be your obedient servant.