Back in Black

Back in Black
Date of Scene:	11 September 2017
Location:	Winchester Apartment - Hell's Kitchen
Synopsis:	After Dean and Fred's contentious conversation, Sam returns home and realizes that something is not right with his brother.
Cast of Characters:	Winifred Burkle, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Tinyplot:	Blood on My Name

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Winifred Burkle has posed:
The Winchester Apartment, as Sam left it, was mostly clean. It was just as he remembered it. As he might turn the key, though, he sees the carpet that covered the demon trap on the front door is moved. The floor is slightly warped.

For the past week, Fred has been staying in the apartment. Mostly, she has been in Sam Winchester’s room with him. Tonight, however, Sam went to talk to SHIELD. It was a necessary step and Fred urged him to do so.

Now, though, as he returns, it’s a toss up as to whether she is writing on the walls, under the bed, or asleep on top of it. Right now, she is none of those things. Instead the apartment is quiet. There is nothing out of place outside of the mat and the floor drawings.

Sam Winchester has posed:
“Fred?”

Sam is calling her name the moment he comes through the door. He’s got a bad feeling. It’s no vision, but it’s a bad feeling. He pauses at the carpet, the warped floor.

He kneels down to investigate it, feeling cold. His instincts ramp up into high gear. Anything that suggests a demon trap problem is a bad scene right now. He flips the rug up and out of the way, studying it.

“Winifred?” This time there’s not just more urgency in the tone. There’s her full name, a measure of how worried he really is. What if she’s not here?
Eyes scan the entire apartment warily. He picks out other details. Such as Dean’s missing phone. The sight of that thing has been burned into his mind and worry for weeks now, after all. “Dean?”

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Fred is hidden, a little like a Where’s Waldo, under the counter in the kitchen. As Sam calls out for her, the words hitch in her throat. Then, he calls out for Dean. The physicist stays where she is, holding the necklace that Dean gave her. She knows Sam is looking for her, but she is also worried. What can she tell him of her interaction with Dean?

It’s a long few moments, but Fred responds to Sam. She can’t stand the idea of him looking for her. “I’m--I’m here,” she calls out. But, she does not move from her hiding space just yet. Nor does she give up the necklace that Dean gave her. In fact, she tucks it into her pocket, knowing as soon as Sam sees it that it might mean something to him. What it might mean is up to interpretation, but she knows it means something.

In the past few days, Fred has hidden under multiple surfaces, has written on Sam’s walls. It’s entirely possible this is just another line in her coping mechanisms.

Sam Winchester has posed:
Very possibly.

He notes the break in the demon trap. Could Fred be possessed?

He reaches out with his power. Looks for the little sensation of something /foreign/ inside her, something which must needs be pushed /out/ and /away/. He finds nothing. One of the huge benefits of the powers he’s contemplating giving up. The ability to tell, with a little bit of effort, if someone has been possessed.

He feels nobody and nothing else in this apartment. He swiftly pulls out a black marker and restores the trap, then flips the rug back over it. It’s small wonder he’s little concerned with her writing on his walls. He’s sort of painted all over his ceilings and floors and doorframes and window frames. As long as her equations don’t bust up his wards.

That done, and feeling a little of the pressure inside his chest abate, he crosses into the kitchen and crouches down to the cabinets, marveling that she can fold herself in there. Sometimes he forgets how charmingly /little/ she is.

It would be adorable if it didn’t all point to what might be a worsening of her mental state. Maybe today was the wrong day to go into...to go into /work./
He reaches out with one tentative hand, not trying to draw her out of there yet. He just takes her hand inside of that cabinet. “I’m so sorry. I should have demanded a few more days.”

That may not be what is going on here, but he feels the need to offer it anyway.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
As Sam searches from Fred, he finds her in the cupboards. It’s not entirely different from her state before he left her. However, her hiding places were far more obvious before.

While she does not move outward, when Sam finds her, she shakes her head. “No, it’s okay. You shouldn’t...it’s fine.” She doesn’t want to be the reason he doesn’t do anything else. However, now she is left in a strange place. Dean chased her under a cabinet, but also gave him his necklace and told her to look after Sam. He also told her that because of that, Sam would grow bored of her.

There’s a long pause where Fred looks down. She doesn’t want to say this, doesn’t want to know what Sam will say to this. However, she has to tell him. She doesn’t want him to worried and wondering what happened to his brother. Softly, she tells Sam: “Dean moved out. I tried to stop him.”

Sam Winchester has posed:
The relief on his face is plain.

Is that all?

“Stopping Dean is almost impossible when he gets the bit between his teeth, honey,” he says gently. “Now that he’s got his phone I can call him and we can figure this out. I don’t know what’s rolling through his head right now, but this crossroads deal has got to be messing him up, and whatever actions he’s taking could be at the demon’s behest. I’ve got searches running at WAND about crossroads demons, just to see if I can shake anything out that’s worthwhile.”

He frowns though. Still doesn’t explain the cupboard. It’s a frown of concern, not of anger. It’s not for nothing that he’s an investigator of sorts, but the best way to piece things together is to ask.

“What happened exactly? Why did you end up hiding under here?”

Winifred Burkle has posed:
There’s a long pause. The last thing Fred wants to do is be in the middle of the Winchesters. She loves Sam, she respects Dean. Because of that, she needs to deliver the message. The pendant she dropped into her pocket is held up and then presented to Sam. “He came back looking for you and that I should give this to you when I found you.”

There’s a long pause. She doesn’t want to tell him what else he told her. That he believes she replaced him, that Sam will grow tired of her rather easily when he realizes he needs to get back on the road. So, she says nothing of that. Not yet. Not right now.

“He said he was tired of pretending. That you’d know.” He’d know about leaving everything behind and going on the road. That she doesn’t state out loud. She doesn’t wish to say it. Doesn’t wish to try and make him choose.

At that she holds the pendant toward him in her grasp, easy for him to take. Her eyes are cast downward at the offer.

Sam Winchester has posed:
He does take the pendant, and his mouth flattens into a tight, hurt, unhappy line. This hits him right in the gut to be sure. Pained, he gently does put it around her neck, tucks it into her shirt. “For safekeeping,” he explains. “If one person I love can’t wear it right now, it’s best held by another person I love.”

/Which might just compound whatever the fuck Dean is thinking,/ Sam thinks, with an angry exhale. But wearing it around his own neck feels lame.
He listens to the rest of what she has to say and looks down. “We’ll sort it out,” he says finally.

/Your brother, Dean, is missing./

“I don’t know how yet,” he admits. “But we’ll sort it out. Was he a dick to you?”

Winifred Burkle has posed:
As Sam takes the pendant, Fred looks slightly away. It seems almost like a personal moment. Then, though, he puts it over her neck and she looks to Sam with a curious and surprised look. “He gave it to you!” she tells him. Or, really, he gave it to Fred to give it to Sam. The pendant is already over her neck and a hand reaches up to hold the small charm beneath her shirt for a few moments.

Was he a dick to Fred? There’s a tilt of her head. Dean has been a dick to her in the past. However, it wasn’t as malicious as it felt this time around. The Dean she drank with might not have trust her, but he also didn’t tell her that Sam could never love her. However, her most visceral memories of Dean involve him being a dick to her. Case in point:

“The last time I saw your brother before this he told me that Pylea was unfortunate but didn’t really measure to his own pain,” Fred tells Sam truthfully, with a bit of pain still in her voice.

“This time, though,” she sighs. “He said that you could never love me because you should be on the road. That you could never settle down.” She pauses. “Some of that’s paraphrasing. But, it’s the gist of it.”

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam’s nostrils flare as his mouth settles into another one of those grim, tight lines. His jaw locks up, and a dark look passes over his features. He’s furious.
But not at her. His furious look shoots at the door. “He’s jealous,” he concludes. “And no, Fred, I gave that pendant to him. When we were children. It was the first gift I ever gave him.”

Her point is well taken though. Dean has been a dick to Fred for awhile now. Angry, in pain, and possibly jealous. It’s another angle to the mess, but no wonder she’s in such a state. He turns his attention to soothing her, even as something nags at him. It’s nagging good and hard.

/The white eyed demon stood by the tree with a knife to Dean’s throat./

He squeezes her hand. “First, if I really wanted to go on the road, I have always just assumed I’d ask you to go with me and you would. SHIELD is more of a bar to that than you are. You’re a Hunter, like me, and self-employed.” SHIELD is really less of a bar to that anyway unless they get too shitty about his ‘in training’ status; the arrangement he has with May, who is, after all, still his SO, says he gets to work cases, but he logs them and gets paid for them, while working his training around things, and stays /available/ for cases they want him to do.

“I’ve also assumed we’d just /drive back/ after any jobs. There is nothing about hunting that demands the lack of a home base. And I’ve assumed that if you didn’t want to go on a job, you’d just say so. Then I’d go work it, and come home. Did I assume any of that incorrectly? It’s okay if I did. We can talk about it. Work it out, figure out what works for both of us. I’m not sure how regular people do this, but I figure that’s how it works. Because I’m committed to you, Fred, and I felt ready for this relationship because I felt like you and I were basically alike, that none of this would be a real problem.”

Winifred Burkle has posed:
For a little while, Dean and Fred were almost friends, bros even. It was the Crossroads fight that heralded a short downturn in their relationship.

“I was trying to apologize about that fight we had,” Fred attempts to explain some more. She can’t exactly argue against the idea that Dean might be jealous, as he did intimate that very sentiment. “He wouldn’t listen. He said I replaced him.” Her eyes look downward at that and she briefly touches the necklace Sam gave her for safekeeping no beneath her shirt. “But that it’d only be a matter of time.”

As for getting back on the road and taking her with him, Fred looks back up at him. There’s a touch of sorrow, but she’s also pleased he thought of them together. “I couldn’t leave Angel.” That’s also why she often insists they spend time at the Hyperion. While they might not always see the vampire, she feels better knowing he’s close by.

The idea of a home base, though, that is something she can get behind. She nods a few times as he describes them going out on a Hunt or him leaving and then returning. “That sounds nice.” There’s a sigh and shake of her head as to if any of that is a problem. “No, you didn’t. I know. I don’t want to come between you two. And I have and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know if I can. I tried to stop him, Sam. I did. He just...he said those things and I panicked. He called me vanilla. And pumpkin.”

Sam Winchester has posed:
“Well, jealous people often say that the person they’re jealous over will swing back to them eventually, all while being pissed off over the necessity of that,” Sam says, with the logic that would have made him a phenomenal lawyer. He reaches out-- into the cabinet still-- to brush back some of her hair. “I’m committed to you,” he says simply. “And I am pretty sure he and Jo are together, he said something to me about her, so he’s not even being fair. We’ll work this out.”

/Nothing good comes without a balancing of the scales somewhere. You know that./

Vanilla. Pumpkin.

These are not terms Dean uses.

Sam turns around fully to look at the door, something cold icing through his spine. “Fred,” he asks, with some quiet urgency. “Do you know if Dean was in Virginia?”

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Fred leans into that touch slightly. There’s a slight nod at that. “Jo’s with him. Apparently she’s different. She knows everything about the deal and is along for the ride. I think that’s who’s been calling him all the time.”

With a deep breath, Fred reaches out to put her hand on his. “I’m committed to you, too.” He has managed to keep her mostly sane after a mental trip to Pylea. His steadiness and care has helped her through the worst of it. Even now, he’s calmly helped her down from the fear that this fight with Dean will make him see her differently, that he would see her as someone he would grow tired of and leave behind.

As Sam turns from her to look at the door, she peeks her head out from the cabinet to look there, too. She pauses before she answers that. Dean asked her not to tell Sam about Virginia. He also did just tell her a bunch of things that caused her to crawl into a cabinet. Finally, she answers. “Yeah. He had a court date there after something happened on a case. He asked me not to talk to you about that awhile ago. I didn’t mean to keep that from you, but there also didn’t seem to be a good time to bring it up.”

Fred’s eyes move from the door to Sam. “Dean has his phone now, you could call him. He told me that you should if you wanted to talk.”

Sam Winchester has posed:
“In a minute,” he says, on the matter of contacting Dean.

He doesn’t seem too upset. Getting angry that she held onto a secret at Dean’s behest would be the height of hypocrisy. And he’s distracted.

“Fred,” he says, in those slow, even tones that say that he’s gone into full Hunt mode. “I need you to tell me if he did anything strange at the door. My devil’s trap was tampered with when I got home.”

/I see your choice. And I accept./

He returns his gaze to her, mouth set into a tight, grim line.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Fred knows that tone of voice. It’s how he spoke when she first met him, back when she was attempting to brain him with a large tome of Latin. Her brows furrow and she watches him. “He wouldn’t come in at first,” she recalls. “He stayed by the doorway. For a minute, I was worried that he actually /couldn’t/ come in. A lot of things need to be invited in to come into a place.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “He did come in, though, and I didn’t invite him.” As soon as he was inside, the visit almost immediately turned into telling Fred how he was leaving and how she had replaced him in Sam’s eyes. That distracted her from thinking he was anything else.

There’s a frown as Sam says that the devil’s trap was tampered with. “It must’ve happened when he tripped coming inside. He spilled the glass of water I got him. That must’ve mucked up the trap.”

Sam Winchester has posed:
He stood at the door and asked for water, then spilled just enough to screw up the trap.

“That wasn’t Dean,” he says, fear and fury warring for dominance in his tone. He stands and goes to a drawer. Rummaging around in it, he pulls out a necklace with the anti-possession sigil he has tattoo’d to his chest and offers it out to Fred. “Later it would be a good idea for you to get something more permanent,” he says grimly. “But this will do for now. Are you able to come out of there, sweetie? I’m going to need your help.”

His heart pounds. Tension has corded up his neck muscles until they are standing out, visible. He’s sure angry now, but not at her.

At this /thing/ which has taken his brother.

Even so, he spares a thankful prayer to God and all His angels. The demon chose psychological warfare instead of physical warfare. The litany of awful things that could have happened to Fred rattles around the back of his throat, listed off in Volkov’s mad tones.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Wasn’t Dean? Fred’s confusion is clear for a moment until things start to fall into place. That wasn’t Dean and she didn’t even realize. It didn’t occur to her until after Sam vocalized it.

For a few moments, she stares at the necklace Sam offers her. A part of her wants to crawl backward even further into the cabinet. She didn’t realize that a demon had taken control of Dean. It barely occurred to her. “Sam, I’m so sorry. I didn’t--I should have known. I can’t believe I didn’t know.” The list of awful things that could have been done to her before Sam returned does not yet occur to her.

He asks her if she’s able to come out from under the counter. To be honest, she isn’t sure. However, he needs her and Dean needs both of their help. She needs to stand up, to get out from the cabinet. Grimly, her fingers wrap around the pendant and she pulls it over her head. This one she wears over her shirt - allowing the talisman to remain hidden. Then, with slow and deliberate movements, she starts to crawl out of the safe, dark space.

“Okay. I’ll--I’m not sure how helpful I’ll be.”

Sam Winchester has posed:
“Do you have the exorcism ritual memorized yet? You were reading it from a book last time.”
Sam pulls out his phone thoughtfully. /Note to self. Next time you are left with Dean’s phone for weeks, put a damned tracking app on it./

Inwardly, he’s a mess of anger and panic. Outwardly, he is all calm competence, as if his brother’s possession were an everyday occurrence. But then, danger and this sort of thing has been an almost every-week occurrence for most of his life, and he and Dean have alternately been ‘taken’ by a variety of things in a variety of ways, or threatened or otherwise menaced. He knows panic does no good.

Only plans, and action.

He goes to the fridge and pulls out the gallon of milk. He dumps it out into the sink and starts rinsing it. He saw the size of that omen. They’re going to need more holy water.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Fred watches Sam as he starts moving. He’s instantly in Hunter mode and asking her questions. The physicist watches him for a few moments, concerned. She doesn’t quite know what to do here. Vampires? She has that covered. Hell beasts? Sure. Demons that have possessed her boyfriend’s brother? That’s a bit shakier territory.

“I think so,” Fred tells Sam about memorizing the exorcism. “I tend to pick things up pretty quickly.”

Moving forward, she puts a hand Sam’s arm for just a moment, an attempt to be reassuring. “We’re gonna get him back.” It’s quick, her trying to tell Sam that things will be okay, that she’s here for him.
Then, she moves toward his bedroom, back to business. “I’ll get some weapons. Do crucifixes stop them? Salt does, right?” And while she knows that trying to physically hurt Alistair will hurt Dean, going to find him unarmed also sounds like a bad idea.

Sam Winchester has posed:
“Crucifixes are useless in any direct sense, but if you have one toss it over here, I’ll need it to bless the water. Salt is good. I think there are still some salt rounds in my closet. Along with the shotguns that use them. Let’s grab two and load those up.”

There’s some irony here. The demon tells Fred that Dean feels replaced, and now Sam partners up with her just like he does with Dean to go save...Dean. “Spray paint for devil’s traps. We have to be careful what we use, we could end up hurting Dean.”

That’s where the fear slips into his voice. Right there. But then, that’s pretty much how they met, wasn’t it? Defeating a demon…

And then disposing of the vessel’s lifeless body.

/If Dean dies here though he’s fulfilled his deal, and if I could be brought back, he could be brought back. If a crossroads demon won’t make the deal...well. I still have a wish-granting psychopath in my storage unit./

But of course. It’s. Probably better to just. Not let Dean die. He blows out his cheeks, trying to figure out what he’s going to do when he calls the number in just a moment.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
“I don’t tend to keep those on me,” Fred tells Sam a bit sheepishly. She does deal with vampires quite often, but she also lives in the same hotel as one. Having a crucifix on her at all times felt a bit offensive to Angel. “Do you have one in the closet?”

While she is in there, she pulls out the shotguns, the salt shells and starts to gather a proper arsena - salt shells, shotguns, spray paint. She knows that the wrong thing will hurt Dean and not Alistair. Pulling what she has, she packs it up into a duffle bag and brings it back out to the kitchen.

“Dean still has my bag of bombs from capturing Barnes after driving off with them from the crossroads.” It’s not just regrettable, but now that means danger. Alerting Sam to that immediately is better than when they’re arriving. It means they can plan. “It’s got one of the sleepy bombs, two of the molotovs and one of the magnets. We should be careful of that.”

Setting the bag down, she watches Sam and hears the fear in his voice. Moving into the kitchen, she reaches forward to try and stop his preparations for a moment, to take his hand. “We won’t. You know what you’re doing and I’m here. We’ll get him back.” She remembers that poor girl, too. Her lifeless eyes still haunt her.

Looking about at the kitchen, her eyes land on the empty beer bottles that line one of the counters. An idea forms. “We can fill a lot of these bottles with salt and holy water and toss them at him. The demon equivalent of a molotov.”

Sam Winchester has posed:
“Yeah, we’ve got them,” Sam replies. He looks momentarily frozen when she mentions the bombs. But. There’s nothing to be done.

He takes her hand and squeezes, lowering his eyes. But she has good ideas, and he nods. “Alright.” He finds a crucifix in the drawer without losing her hand, and starts the blessing ritual. Prep work will pretty much be all he focuses on for awhile, blessing water so she can make bombs out of it.

At length, he says, “Okay, there are three ways I can play this, and I’m not sure which is right. I can call and pretend I don’t know yet, try to get him to tell me to meet him somewhere. Or I can just throw the gauntlet down and let him taunt me where he wants me. Or I can try to plead for Dean.” Two plans where he admits he knows, one plan where he doesn’t.

The demon took Dean, and made a point of visiting Fred and traumatizing her all over again. It doesn’t seem too big of a stretch to assume the demon wants something with him, Sam.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Bomb making of both the mechanical and metaphysical type seems to be what Fred leans toward when the going gets tough. Once the assurances are given, she squeezes his hand and then gets back to her own prep work. Bottles are rinsed out and stoppers are made for each.

Once the holy water is blessed, she starts to fill them and adds some salt. Hopefully that will do something. Stoppers are put in place, but she pauses as she reaches the last few. Sam’s multiple plans are taken under consideration.

“He really wanted to talk to you,” Fred says softly. The worry of that is plain in her voice. A finger plays at the label on one of the repurposed beer bottles. “I think calling him at all will be what he wants.” Thinking it over, she sighs. “Pretending like you don’t know anything leaves us with more options. Either he believes you and we have a bit of an advantage and surprise, or he doesn’t and you can try the gauntlet or the plea.”

The bare need Demon Dean expressed in needing to talk to Sam remains a cold hand that grips at her stomach. If the attempt to mentally break her down was only in response to getting his hands on Sam? That’s even worse.

Sam Winchester has posed:
“Good point,” Sam tells Fred. He must see something on her face, for he reaches out to cup it with one broad hand.

“The assholes,” he says solemnly, “will always try to use any bond of love against anyone else. Me, you, Dean, probably Jo later. May. It’s never the fault of the person who is getting targeted. It’s always the fault of the thing that’s doing the targeting. So don’t worry about it. We’re going to figure all of this out.”

He keeps saying that, even with the echo of that vision taunting him, bothering him, making him wonder if it’s really true. But he says it like he believes it.

He exhales and pulls out his phone, staring at it.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
As Sam reaches out to cup her face, Fred’s unoccupied hand touches his, keeping it there. “I know,” she says softly. She knows that the easiest way to get to someone is through the people they love. A part of her is worried about that exact thing. The Demon Dean was attempting to implant seeds of distrust and while he did not manage that, he did instill the idea that she might be a liability to Sam, that people will try to get to him through her.

Perhaps that was the idea that he was trying to inception into her head.That’s why Hunters don’t have loved ones or ties: they get used against them. Despite that, she presses the worries down. Fred loves Sam, she wants to help him and help Dean. That’s enough.

As Sam looks at his phone, steeling himself to call the creature that is inhabiting Dean, she leans forward and kisses him, attempting to give him some sort of strength. “You can do this. If it helps, I’ll get back in the cupboard.”

Sam Winchester has posed:
“No, don’t get back in the cupboard. Let’s save the cupboard for when you really need it. All I see is this badass Hunter building me holy water bombs.” Hunters don’t have ties to the outside world. But they still have ties to /each other/.

If anything, SHIELD is the thing that does not belong here, the thing that is not the same. But Sam shelves that thought for now. Of all the things he might have to sacrifice to get his life right, SHIELD is more than sacrificable.
He dials Dean’s number. Waits for a demon to pick up. And steels himself for the sensation of hearing something that is pure evil using his brother’s voice.

Dean Winchester has posed:
What is a demon to do with a new suit? That’s the million dollar question.
After getting out of SHIELD medical following a course of various treatment with refused painkillers had won the elder Winchester more than a few eyebrow raises, and questions about his past substance use. Not that anyone asked.

If Dean had been an impersonal patient before, this time he was weirdly interested. In everything.

And everyone.

It had the desired side-effect of shutting down most conversations.

Music blares in the background when the phone picks up. Sam gets far more of an earful than any normal person would allow before saying anything into the phone. It’s odd.

//Back in black//
//I’ve hit the sack//
//I’ve been too long I’m glad to be back//
//Yes, I’m let loose//

“Sammy,” the name is too familiar and lacks its usual warmth in Dean’s voice. “Long time no talk,” the self-satisfied smile heard through the line extends with each uttered syllable. “Way too long,” he adds nearly smugly. “Get my message?”

Sam Winchester has posed:
Time to pretext someone with access to his brother’s read on him. He hopes Dean is in there, somewhere, fouling the waters.

He puts on his meekest sounding voice, the one he gets when he forgets he’s a grown man and reverts back to being the son of Dean Winchester. Instead of his brother. Soft and worried and hurt.

“Yeah, um,” he clears his throat. “You didn’t have to move out, Dean, I-- I thought you wanted me to put down some roots here. You rented this place, remember? Invited me to move in? I just don’t understand what’s going on, but I want to make it right. Where are you? We should talk about this.”

He gives Fred an uneasy glance. He can hear the differences. They’re chilling him. And something…

Something feels oddly familiar. Not familiar in the way Dean’s voice is familiar, as familiar as his own, but familiar for other reasons. Familiar in a way that makes him think Volkov only wishes he were as terrifying as this thing he’s talking to now, but why should he be scared? It’s just another demon.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
“I’m not really a Hunter,” Fred tells Sam with a bit of a self-deprecating smile. She’s a scientist attached to a private investigator. She may deal with the same things, but she doesn’t see herself on the same level as Sam or Dean. “I do like building bombs, though.” That is just a verifiable fact.

Sam dials Dean’s number and she reaches out to place a hand on his arm for support. She can read his expression, knows that something is up. Right now she can’t tell if it is the stress of talking to a demon that is wearing Dean or something else. Either way, she stands there, giving him silent support.

Dean Winchester has posed:
The sound of Sam’s voice, the way he takes on that child-like demeanour and the way he replies to Dean’s supposed message meet more music on the other side of the phone. //Back in Black// finishes.

There’s something painfully calculating in the silence that grows. Or, perhaps, something else altogether. It’s hard to tell on the phone.

Smarm that drips from Dean’s voice when he states, “Dean can’t come to the phone right now.” The smile grows. It’s not self-deprecating or good humoured. It’s grim. Sinister. Feline. “And don’t you snivel. I won’t tolerate that from one of my favourites.”

A long contented breath emits through the phone. “It’s strange. The way he efforts so much that we don’t talk.” There’s no jig here, just pure demon having a conversation with Sam. “It’s like he wants Hell to stay away from you. Amazing really, even after what Crowley told him about you. It’s a wonder he’d negotiate for you after knowing… well, what he knows.”

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam drops the act, and Fred will get to watch his eyes harden. He wraps an arm around her and snarls coldly, “You listen to me, you son of a bitch. You vacate my brother right now or I will make sure your fate is way worse than a standard exorcism. I’ll find a way to /end you/.”

It’s not a good start. It’s not smart. But the fury that roars through him will not be denied. This thing doesn’t want him to snivel? He won’t snivel. Meanwhile, the demon is trying to catch him up with his dual nature.

He so does not care right now. If it helps him get his brother back he’ll become something darker still. His eyes flash briefly black. The whites never fill when they do that. It’s just that his eye color becomes the black of the pit instead of his gentler hazel. His jaw firms, and his shoulders grow rocklike, tense.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Pretty immediately, it seems that they are moving onto the backup plan B, but without the ‘allowing’ him to taunt Sam. Fred keeps that hand on his arm as he talks to whatever demon it is that holds Dean.

On this side of the phone, she can see the change - sees the pupils of his eyes turn black. It more than worries her, it scares her. Trying to keep herself unheard, she urges Sam to calm down. “Sam,” she says softly, tugging at his arm. This is not the way to get him to talk, to get a meeting.

She gets the anger at the demon, but this was far more fury far too soon. She can’t hear the other end of the the conversation, doesn’t know just how expertly Sam is being taunted.

Dean Winchester has posed:
“Oh, big brother has had a taste of what I have in store for him,” Dean replies smoothly. “He was concerned about his pretty face for awhile. As he should be.” The thrum of a new song plays in the background, but it’s not as prominent or as familiar. “And for the blonde he’s spending time with. And, of course, you Sammy.”

There’s another pause. “But you, //you// should be concerned with what I can do to him in the meantime. Did you know we can occupy living or dead? Makes no difference to us, really. I don’t need food in this state. No real need for water. I could’ve left Dean bleeding if I’d wanted,” which begs the question: why not? “No. I think you have more to worry about than my occupation of Dean. While I’m here, you don’t even know if my hostage is dead or alive. Enthralling, isn’t it?”

He smiles again, this time more pleased with the position he’s in. “So maybe we should play a game?”

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam’s heart sinks. He did, of course, know. He’d just shared that worry with Fred. He closes his eyes, lets her talk him down, but also finds he has no more defiance left. He feels defeated, pinned like a butterfly to a board.
His throat closes. He manages to get two words out. “I’m listening.” He doesn’t even know who this is yet, but he knows even that Crossroads demon Dean was messing around with didn’t create this kind of omen. It could be Azazel. It could be worse.

And either way, it doesn’t matter. Whatever it takes to get Dean back, he’s going to do. Just as Dean did for him. It might be an object lesson in the problem of Winchesters for poor Fred, too. He notes that Jo must be alive, but what state she’s in remains uncertain. It doesn’t matter...the demon has two hostages, and he’s lucky he didn’t take a third.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
From her position, Fred watches as Sam move from furious to defeated. That doesn’t look at all good. Moving forward, she wraps her arms about him. There are no words for him at the moment - he is on the phone and she doesn’t want to alert the demon to her own presence here. Even though he must know she is there.

For now, she is just there with silent support which she attempts to convey through her gestures.

Dean Winchester has posed:
“Listening or /listening/?” comes the sly question. Dean hums quietly. Is it Asia? //Heat of the Moment//? It’s definitely not what’s playing in the background. The humming stops. As randomly as it had begun.

“They are different, you know. Of course you know,” he chuckles hollowly. “Tell me, do you remember our time together at all? Dean’s memories tell me yours was wiped.” His gaze turns upwards.

“And, can you clear something up for me? What is the story of this ladyfriend in your apartment? I continue to be perplexed why you weren’t with dear brother when I nabbed him. He wasn’t unfindable. That agent woman, the one he thinks of as ‘Agent Mom’ found him. He had the pretty blonde with him. But you were painfully absent. Curious.”

Like the demon doesn’t know. A likely thing.

“But yes. A game.” His tongue clucks. “Where would someone wearing a Dean suit take him? Someone wanting to get their thrills. Someone who aimed not to feed, water, or generally care for the body they’re in.” There’s a long pause. “That’s where you’ll find me. I’ll be waiting.”

Sam Winchester has posed:
“I was trying to give him his space,” Sam says stoically, and that’s the honest truth. When a person straight up leaves their phone, walks out, has a giant argument with you and tells you to leave him alone, you maybe do that. Of course, that feeds into all his anxieties about Dean being /taken/ that Hydra stirred up for him. A nightmare that is now coming horrifically true.

He buries his face in Fred’s hair for a moment. That old familiar sensation creeps over him. He makes life worse for everyone, just by existing. The demons, Hydra, they all have hopes for something they want out of him, and he’ll either become that and destroy them, or fight it and destroy them. They’d be better off without him…

But then who would talk Fred back from the edge?

“Do you have May hostage too? And no. I don’t remember you. I have no idea who the Hell you are. Azazel? Am I talking to the demon who killed my mother?”

Where would someone wearing a Dean suit take him?
Bobby’s, that’s his first immediate guess. Because thrills for Dean is a beer, a piece of pie, and a woman in his arms. Thrills for a demon is making Dean watch as the only father they ever had suffers immensely at his own hands. And if he plans not to care for the body, Bobby might well cause some damage before the demon overcomes him. The food and water bits are irrelevant, all he has to do is /not eat./

Winifred Burkle has posed:
Fred can half hear what is being said on the other end of the line now - being this close to Sam. It’s muffled, but she gets the general gist. Her arms tighten about Sam. This demon is trying to goad him, she knows it.
As he buries his face in her hair, she just holds onto him. They can figure this out, they can rescue Dean: she knows it. She tries to will this hope into him.

Dean Winchester has posed:
“Before or after John Winchester decked him?” the demon asks idly. “I can’t get the timing right. It’s all a blur. Checkmarks for Dean. Watch Sam demon-out? Check. Head to the Crossroads to summon Crowley? Check. Take the shit-deal to be Crowley’s bitch? Check! Get punched out by dear old Dad? Check.” The smile that follows is grim.

“Don’t worry. Dean had it coming,” something Dean would probably have said himself if really pushed on the issue. “But maybe not from Dad.” He breathes out slowly. “It’s fun to loose these secrets.”

Mention of May though has his tongue clucking. “What do you think, apprentice? Would it be wise to keep Agent Mom around?” And then he hmmms. “You’ve observed that you left Dean ‘space’. But did Dean ever want space? You left. You walked away from it all. Your choice.” There’s another pause, and Dean is humming again. The bars to Zeppelin’s //Rambling On// are distinct. But it stops again. “Did he always want you to go? Or was it inconsequential?”

But as Deanmon talks, Sam’s phone pings. The text from Bobby is clear: //Something is wearing your brother.//

Sam Winchester has posed:
Sam texts back ‘I know. He’s got me on the line right now. I think he’s heading your way. Is he already with you? Where are you?’

He shows Fred the phone, listening to all of these barbs, these guilty things. His features darken. //Dad was here? That son of a bitch.// It ramps up his suspicion on what dear old Dad’s gambit must have been, but right now he has no time for it.
So. He sent May on, because May is too badass to keep around. And because SHIELD would go looking. Fine, that’s good.

“Who are you?” he asks again. “You don’t want to tell me? After asking me if I remembered and telling me I was your favorite and everything? And what do you want with me? You’re holding all the cards, so you might as well tell me.”

Dean Winchester has posed:
“I’m the thing nightmares are afraid of,” Dean replies easily with a laugh in his voice. “I’d hoped you’d remember on your own. And maybe you will.” There’s a continued laugh in Dean’s voice. But it’s not //Dean’s// laugh. It’s empty and hollow and cold. “So until then, Sammy, I will remain anonymous.”

Sam’s phone pings again: //The kitchen. Trying to figure out how to get it in a demon trap without tipping it off.//

“In the meantime,” Dean quietly hums again. //Travelling Riverside Blues//. His throat clears and he refocuses. “I have things to do. Fun to have.”

The line goes dead.

Sam Winchester has posed:
‘Get out of there. The omens following that thing are intense. I’m heading your way now. From NYC.’
Sam drops a quick note to May. ‘Emergency. Kansas. Back soon.’
He swallows. “He’s right,” he says, even as he starts picking up all those materials. “I never do right by Dean. No matter how hard I try.”

But he’s still going to ride to the rescue. He hesitates. “Do you still want to come with? This could be...protracted. And...I don’t know that anyone caught up in this gets out alive, sane, or whole.”

He’s just being honest.
/What do you want?/ Fitz had asked him.

The question floating up now makes him want to laugh hysterically. But he holds it together.

Winifred Burkle has posed:
“Sam.” Fred doesn’t know what she can say to convince him that he does do right by his brother. There’s only so much she can say. However, she realizes one thing. It’s why Demon Dean went after Fred to hurt Sam. It’s why it went after Sam to hurt Dean. The Hunter code that love and ties can hurt you is turned back. It means if someone is trying to use those bonds, that there is a connection there. “If Dean didn’t love you, this demon wouldn’t try and break you down to hurt him.”

The question as to whether she wants to come with is met with a bit of hesitation. The door. She hasn’t been out the door in a week. The Winchester apartment is safe, has Sam, ensures she won’t be tossed back into Pylea.

However, like before, she knows that Sam needs her, that Dean has to be saved from the demon that possesses him. “I’m with you,” she tells him firmly. “I’m already not exactly sane.” A hand reaches to press first against the demon pendant and then Dean’s talisman. They’re both there - protection and reminder.