Season Three

Episode Eleven: The Darkest Half

By irismay42 & Tree

Part Four

“Dad, I don’t understand…” Sam stammered, his heartbeat beginning to crescendo in direct proportion to the rising apprehension gnawing in his gut. With the cellular still pressed tightly to his ear, the young man could hear his father’s exasperated exhalation of air and he knew that the seasoned hunter was not one to keep waiting on an answer. “We’re in Texas, Dad. Plano, Texas,” he added.

“Don’t go anywhere, Sammy. Do you hear me? Go find your brother. Get Dean and don’t let him out of your sight. Do you understand me, son? Sam? Are you listening?”

Sam was listening. When John Winchester spoke there was rarely little other choice but to listen. Yet, while his ears may have been attuned to his dad’s voice in the cellular, his eyes were focused on the oncoming headlights approaching from the distance.

Familiar-looking headlights…

“Don’t worry, Dad. Dean’s here. Dean’s right here…” Sam chirped excitedly, taking a hurried step towards the nearing dark car.

“Sam…?”

The coal-black Impala ground to a halt a few feet in front of the younger Winchester, the headlights bathing him in a bright white shower of light.

“Sammy! Dammit, son!”

His father’s voice cut through his excitement snapping Sam back but only momentarily. So focused on Dean’s return and bringing his sibling up to speed on his conversation with their dad, Sam nearly forgot about the ongoing call.
“Dad, Dean’s here. Hang on, he’ll want to talk to you too.”

The tell-tale screech of the Chevy’s door opening distracted Sam from the strange static coming from the cell. Assuming that the call with his dad had been dropped, he powered off the phone and took a step toward the Impala.

With the glare of the headlights still shining in his eyes, Sam tucked the phone into his jeans and raised an arm to block the offending brightness from the car’s high-beams.

Jeez Dean… have a heart, huh?

Still, believing it was his brother that had finally come to rescue him from the barren roadway, Sam took another step toward the Impala.

“Dean?”

His arm still shielding his eyes, Sam could barely make out the shape that stepped out from the driver’s side of the car.
“Dean? So you got your head out of your ass and came back, huh? Well you’re just in time. Guess who was just on the phone?” Sam asked, unable to avoid the biting edge to his tone.

He was still irritated at Dean for leaving him on the side of the road, not to mention his elder brother’s apparent soul-bearing discourse on their relationship. Still, Dean was back and their dad had called. The least Sam could do was extend the olive branch himself.

Except as the form took another step towards him the identity became visible and it clearly wasn’t his brother.

Mia!

The pounding of his heart suddenly gave way to the drop of his stomach. His gut bluntly admitting what his brain was fervently trying to deny. No way would his brother ever let the brunette drive the cherished car. Not unless something had happened.

“Mia, where’s Dean?” Sam asked suspiciously.

The young woman confidently strode up to stand directly in front of him, her smile as alluring as usual; yet even in the darkness, Sam could see an almost sinister narrowing of her sienna-hued eyes.

“Don’t worry, Sammy. Dean’s not very far away,” she leered, her head tilting just slightly in a manner that seemed frighteningly familiar to the young hunter.

“Where’s my brother?” Sam demanded, the hollow pit that was his stomach suddenly threatening to turn inside-out as the brunette’s laugh seemed to echo on the night sky.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she sneered. “Funny, I imagine he’s probably asking the same thing about you right now. Well, if he could ask anything that is…”

Sam couldn’t control the shiver that coursed down his spine at the implication of Mia’s words. Yet even as he watched her, part of him disbelieving that this young woman was now standing before him, seemingly fulfilling his darkest fears and concerns, another part of him was hoping that somehow it was all just another of Mia’s quirks.

Except…

The look in her eyes, the hard line of her face. The cat and mouse game she was playing. He’d seen it before.
With Meg!

“Dammit, Mia. Tell me where Dean is. Right now!” Sam yelled trying to hide the fear in his voice far beneath what he hoped sounded like a commanding tone. He squared his shoulders, lowering his arm and ignoring the blinding glare of the headlights so that he rose to his full six foot four height to tower over the smaller woman.

If she was intimidated by his move she didn’t show it as her near-maniacal laughter rang mockingly in Sam’s ears.
“You’re done giving me orders, Geekboy. Both of you losers have pushed me around for the last time,” Mia snapped.
She took a step toward him and Sam couldn’t stop himself from flinching backwards away from her. Despite her small stature, she exuded an ominous presence and the voice in the back of his head screamed at him to avoid her touch.

“What have you done with Dean, Mia?” he asked more gently this time.

She stopped her approach and simply shrugged. “Maybe I killed him,” she offered, glancing casually down at the fingernails of her left hand.

Sam swallowed hard, his throat constricting so tightly he wasn’t sure he would be able to take his next breath.

“Yeah,” Mia continued looking up, her eyes now wild and dark. “I gutted him like a deer, listening to him scream and beg for your pathetic life when I told him you were next. Then I ripped his arms and legs off and tossed his body into an industrial shredder. So, like I said, he’s kinda all over.”

Sam grimaced as she described the macabre torture, crimping his eyes shut when she licked her lips, savoring the recollection. He refused to believe her, refused to accept that his brother was dead. She had to be lying. She had lied to them before. Still, here she was, alone and driving the Impala. Could there be any more blatant proof of Dean’s possible demise?

“You’re lying you bitch!” he snarled.

She laughed again. “Am I? Even now, you’re just not so sure are you Sammy? Let’s face it. You know I’ve been lying to you, to you both, leading you astray on hunts, setting you up. You’ve had your suspicions about me for a while. You’ve even tried to make that thick-headed brother of yours listen to you. So really, is it such a stretch to admit that whatever sinister plot I’ve been hatching I might have fulfilled it by getting rid of Dean?”

Sam listened to her, his heart sinking as he watched her eyes and found a certain rational sincerity in them replacing the wildness of moments before. Her calmness scared him and his hope sank, yet something darker snapped inside him.

With a flash of movement, his hand snaked inside his jacket and withdrew his automatic, the muzzle pointing scant inches away from the brunette’s face. He fought down the urge to place just a fraction more pressure on the trigger and wipe the self-assured, smug grin from Mia’s face, but as his conscience battled down the primal instinct, Sam saw the young woman’s eyes flash dark and felt the gun ripped from his grip.

In a startled moment, Sam realized two things with amazing clarity. First, his weapon now lay useless several yards away in the ditch beside the road and second; that his worst fears about Mia were now confirmed as the girl glared at him through malevolent coal-black eyes.

“So, you are a demon then?” he asked, attempting more nonchalance than he actually felt. If anything at the moment, he felt as though he were in one hell of a mess.

“Oh Sam,” she laughed mockingly. “If only it were that simple.”

“You weren’t ever possessed; you weren’t ever being chased by a demon. All those deaths back in Oklahoma that was all you wasn’t it?”

“To say you’re the brains of the dynamic duo, it sure took you long enough to figure that all out! Hope you didn’t pull anything.”

“You killed your best friend. You killed your own boyfriend,” Sam exclaimed.

“Are we talking about that grease monkey in Warner or your brother, ’cause honestly, you didn’t really think I gave a damn about Dean did you? I mean, you can imagine how shocked he was right before I jammed that beautiful blade of his right underneath his ribcage.” Mia snapped back.

“You better not be telling the truth about Dean you demonic bitch…”

“Sticks and stones, Sammy. Is that the best you can do?”

“Why Mia? Why the cat and mouse game. Why not just kill us right from the get go? Why screw around and pretend you gave a crap about Dean?” the younger Winchester demanded.

Weaponless and essentially defenseless against the demon, Sam knew his options were limited. But if he was going down, he at least wanted to know why this woman had chosen to play games with them these past couple of months. Was she just another of Hell’s spawn, bored and looking for human flesh to torment? Or was she somehow connected with Lucifer’s recent uprising?

Mia shrugged. “Why? Well, as much as I’d like to say it’s just been for kicks, truth is I was actually trying to attract a hunter.”

Sam shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “Well you lucked out and bagged two of them. Guess that makes you official Demon of the Month.”

“Aw Sam, don’t be bitter. Honestly, I wasn’t after you two bozos at all. I was after much bigger game.”

***

Dean opened his eyes to utter blackness. For a moment, he panicked, praying it was just a dark, moonless night and not that he had somehow become blind. He searched his memory, scouring uncooperative brain cells to fill in glaring gaps, trying to remember any coherent thought.

Where was he, where had he been? What’s happened? Where was Sam? Having more questions than answers irritated him, making the blood throb behind his eyes.

Still shrouded in darkness and mired in desperate frustration, Dean lashed out physically. Or… he would have. Except, as he tried to tense the muscles in his legs and arms, willing them to explode outward in a contraction of force nothing happened.
He tried again, focusing his effort on moving his right arm, desperate to reach up toward his still uncooperative eyes. He couldn’t budge the extremity, not even to twitch his little finger.

His heart pounding within his chest, Dean yelled. Yet like all other previous attempts to manifest any activity, his voice remained silent, his vocal cords as paralyzed as the rest of his body.

Blinking, breathing raggedly, and taking some small sense of victory in those two achievements, Dean tried to remain calm. Wherever he was, whatever was happening, deep down, the young hunter knew that giving in to fear wasn’t going to help him get out of this predicament.

Think! Dean! He silently chastised himself, forcing his breathing to slow down and closing his eyes to help focus and compose the jumble of thoughts raging through his head.

Blind, paralyzed, lost, what the hell happened? Where am I? Where’s Sam? Where’s Mia?

Mia…

At the thought of her the floodgates opened in Dean’s memory, a rush of images flashing like a motion picture in fast forward speeding behind closed lids.

Sam, trying to talk to him, pleading with him to listen to his suspicions about the brunette. Sam, arguing with him, trading hurtful words with him in the way that only siblings could manage. Sam again, fading into the distance on the side of the road as he pulled away in anger and denial.

Then there was Mia, looking as demure as ever, plying her fake tears and emotions on him, pretending that she loved him right up to the moment she flung him against the motel room wall. Mia, black eyed and sinister as she ridiculed him, throwing his feelings for her back in his face like so much garbage. And Mia, taunting him at the end, daring to question his dedication to his family and wanting to know about his dad.

She was a demon! His brain screamed out, remembering her eyes as they glazed over black just as she effortlessly tossed him into the yellowed paneling with a resounding thud.

She’d caught him with his guard down and he’d fallen for her blindly. What a friggin’ jackass I’ve been… Sammy, I’m sooo sorry. What have I done? Why didn’t I listen?

Dean tried to thrash about again, anger at being duped, at being betrayed by this woman he’d thought he loved fueling his need to escape. But his body refused him. Whatever the demonic bitch had done to him had been thorough: he was caught, effectively neutralized and left for her to return and finish him off at her will.

I’m such a fool. How could I have been so stupid? I knew better, never get involved with chicks, not on the job. It never works out. Didn’t I tell Sam the same thing? Sam!

Dean’s mind scrambled as his fear for his younger brother’s safety rose to the forefront of his thoughts. Sam knew Mia was trouble. He’d been suspicious that the girl had been trying to kill him all along. What if now, with Dean out of the way, Mia was making good on her previous attempts?

SAMMY! Dean yelled out silently. Sammy, if you were ever gonna turn on that whole Professor Xavier brain of yours, now would be a good time for you to zero in on me bro… You were right about Mia and I’m in deep crap dude. Watch out for her Sammy!

He didn’t have any real faith that his brother might actually pick up on his frantic mental S.O.S., but Dean wasn’t so skeptical not to try. Besides, he’d seen his brother pull off some fairly “remarkable” mental feats lately so if there was any chance to warn Sam, Dean wasn’t beyond attempting it. With no idea of what Mia might have done to him or worse, what she might have planned for his brother, he was certainly desperate enough to try anything at this point.

Sucking in as deep a breath his constricted chest muscles would allow in an effort to clear his mind and send out what he hoped was another “broadcast” to his sibling, a familiar odor suddenly filled Dean’s nostrils.

Rubber. Worn rubber more specifically and oil. The strangely sweet smell of heavy motor oil seemed to surround him. Odd that he hadn’t noticed those odors before, but then waking up blind and paralyzed tended to distract a person.
And with those two pieces of olfactory information, Dean immediately knew where he was. The Impala! More specifically, the trunk!

The bitch put me in the friggin’ trunk of my own car!

At least with the acknowledgment of his whereabouts, Dean knew why it was so dark. Exhaling a sigh of relief, it wasn’t blindness that plagued his vision but rather the fact that he was trapped in the hidden compartment of the Impala, sequestered from any source of light.

I’m so gonna kill that demonic skank… Focus Dean… Gotta get out to help Sam…

Encouraged that he at least was in familiar territory, Dean concentrated on trying to move and reaching one of the many potential weapons he could only hope that Mia had left behind in the trunk. He barely managed the smallest shift of his body when muffled voices sounded outside the trunk.

Help! He shouted out within his mind praying that somehow the voices outside the Chevy might somehow rescue him from the dark metal prison. But as he listened for some promise of assistance, the voices became familiar.

Mia… and Sam!

“So, you are a demon then?” he heard Sam ask. Aw Sam, come on, weren’t you the one that told me she wasn’t right? Way to go Captain Obvious!

“If only it were that simple,” Mia replied cryptically, tossing back her hair as a trickle of oily blackness once again darkened her irises. “Although you’re half right.”

Dean shivered despite the paralysis that held his body deathly still. What the hell, Mia? Part demon? What are you then? Half demon, half heartless lying she-bitch?

“You weren’t ever possessed; you weren’t ever being chased by a demon. All those deaths back in Oklahoma that was all you wasn’t it?” Sammy, don’t chit-chat with her, get the hell out of there! What are you doing?

“Are we talking about that grease monkey in Warner or your brother, ’cause honestly, you didn’t really think I gave a damn about Dean did you? … Yeah, screw you too Mia. Hope you’re proud of yourself bitch. You got me, I fell for you. Stupid Dean, sees a pretty girl and can’t think with anything north of the belt buckle. Yeah well, you ain’t won yet honey. And you ain’t seen the last of me… Dean silently shouted back in retaliation.

“Why? Well, as much as I’d like to say it’s just been for kicks, truth is I was actually trying to attract a hunter.” A hunter? Not us?

“Well you lucked out and bagged two of them. Guess that makes you official Demon of the Month.” Hahahaha, that’s telling her Sammy! Now shoot the bitch, jump in the car and get us the hell out of here!

“Aw Sam, don’t be bitter. Honestly, I wasn’t after you two bozos at all. I was after much bigger game.”

Dean froze; his blood running cold and even his mental dialogue became silent as he listened to Mia’s last reply. What the hell was she talking about? If Mia hadn’t been after them, then who was her target?

***

Mia walked slowly around Sam surveying the tall hunter as though he were a prize steed at auction. Despite his towering height, she wasn’t threatened. She could sense the fear oozing off the young man despite his best attempts to hide it.
She knew he was forcing the look of bravado onto his face, his defiance more an act than carrying any real substance. She knew she could make him cave in and submit like a weak child merely by dangling his brother’s welfare like a carrot above his head.

But that could wait. This whole game had played out a lot longer than she had originally planned and by damn, she was gonna savor every last minute of her victory now. Besides, Sam had been so cocky, always looking down his nose at her, so sure of his assessment of her. She would take great satisfaction in seeing him reduced to Jello.

Still, there were some minor loose ends to tie up. The grand prize was still out there, not that putting down Sam and Dean Winchester wasn’t a definite feather in her cap. She knew she needed to be careful and not let anything mess up her chance to attain her ultimate goal.

“What are you talking about Mia?” Sam demanded, obviously perplexed by her purposely cryptic last statement. “All of this wasn’t a trap for us?”

“Not originally,” she admitted. “But you have to admit, I do deserve an Oscar for my performance.”

“What are you talking about?”

Mia huffed, exasperated by the man’s seeming inability to “catch on.”

“Come on, Sam. Nothing like a poor little orphan, alone and harried by a demon to tug at Dean’s bleeding heart. I mean, really, once I heard that pathetic story about how you two lost your mom to a demon when you were a baby and Dean was four, well, it was nothing to figure out how to sink my claws into your big brother. No way was he gonna let me fall through the cracks, not Dean, not someone like him that values family above all else,” she explained.

“You played him.”

“Oh honey, like a violin. Poor, homeless, possessed, falsely-accused. The more I learned about your brother, the more I twisted my story to bind us together. Oh, and don’t let us forget the whole ‘just let me die, I don’t want to hurt anyone else’ line. There was no way Dean was going to walk away after that desperate plea. ’Cause, after his family, your brother is totally committed to saving the rest of the world,” Mia sneered with distaste.

“He cared about you…”

“That was the plan. Of course, I do have to thank you too ya know. If it hadn’t been for you pushing us together, I wouldn’t have gotten our relationship over the hump. Your brother always put you first ya know.”

“But you saved his life out there in Big Bend. Why not just let him bleed to death?” Sam challenged.

“I didn’t have what I needed,” she answered. “And honestly, let’s face it, my mission aside, your brother is hot! And, well, I have to say, we did enjoy ourselves while he was recuperating back at Dix’s.”

“Still,” Mia continued, “I didn’t expect him to fall in love with me to the point of dumping me off at Bearwalker’s. That nearly screwed up all my plans.”

“Pazuzu, that was you too? You hurt Joe?” Sam queried.

“Give Andre the Giant another treat. Do you always feel compelled to ask the obvious? But yeah, that was me. Just like all the stuff in Warner, just like all the times that I deliberately mislead your hunts, just like here again. I mean I had to get back to both of you somehow. I couldn’t live without Dean after all and besides, that freaking Indian only bathed once a week.”

“I still just don’t get it, Mia. Why drag it out so long? You had a dozen different chances to kill us. You had Dean nearly dead out in West Texas, me too for that matter out in Cibola. Why wait till now?”

Mia sighed, walking back around to the younger Winchester’s side. She ran her hands up and down his muscular arms, relishing the way he tried not to flinch at her touch. Reaching up, she toyed with a dangling piece of Sam’s brown hair, twirling her fingers into his straying locks.

She watched as he rolled his eyes backwards, his grimace unhidden as she continued to stand uncomfortably close.
“You know, when we first met, I was sorta attracted to you Sammy. I kinda like my men tall and hard-bodied,” she taunted.

“Wow, lucky for me. How did Dean end up drawing the short straw then?” Sam snarked.

Mia let go of his hair and whirled around to face him. “He was just easier. I had more things in common with Dean. Not everything was a lie you know. I really do know a thing or two about cars and I’d much rather listen to AC/DC than that sappy-assed crap you insist on playing on your laptop. But here’s the part that will really twist your boxers…At one point, I kinda bought into the whole ‘Dean Winchester- savior of the weak and innocent’ bit. I almost convinced myself that I did have feelings for him.”

“You’re just a cold-hearted bitch, Mia,” Sam stated plainly.

“Nah, not really Sam. If I was cold-hearted, I wouldn’t have put Dean out of his misery…”

***

An act? It was all just an act. She used me and I was stupid enough to let her.

Dean crimped his eyes closed so tightly he could feel the pressure increase on his pupils until he thought they would rupture behind his lids. He only wished he could have done the same with his ears, blocking out the painful explanation he was hearing the brunette deliver to his brother.

It wasn’t so much that he minded being used. Hell, he’d been both used and user more than enough times in his young life when it came to relationships with women. But it had always been mutually understood, mutually accepted and Dean had never blatantly lied and told a woman he loved her to gain so much as a free beer much less anything else.

Sex was sex, but love was something he neither expected nor gave without exerting a fair amount of caution.

So, where had he gone wrong with Mia? Sure, he listened to her go on about how she had used his history to play on his sympathy and maybe he should take some comfort in the fact that she had struck fairly low by using that tactic, but still, wasn’t he ultimately responsible? Didn’t he know better? Hadn’t he been trained better to watch out and be on constant guard?

Even more damning, more brutally painful than knowing that she didn’t love him, never had, was the stark realization that he had trusted her over Sam.

How could I fall for her? How could I have put her before my own brother?

Dean no longer heard the conversation going on outside the confines of the Impala’s trunk as the hurtful diatribe of his argument with Sam replayed in his mind.

“You’re jealous because you think I care more about her than I do about you?”

“Dean, I’m just trying to protect you –”

“By telling me the first girl I’ve felt – anything – for since – since Cassie…you’re telling me she’s some kind of demon?”

“… Look, I’m just trying to look out for you; I’m just trying to protect you –”

“Sam, I think – I think I’m in love with her… I think I’m in love with her… I think I’m in love with her…”

His words echoed over and over, accusing him, reminding him of his foolishness and the choice he had made by picking love over trust, a stranger over a brother, Mia over Sam.

“Dean, I’m just trying to protect you… protect you… protect you… protect you…”

It wasn’t Sam’s job to protect him. Wasn’t that what their dad had drilled into his head since the night of the fire? Yet he chose to throw that back in his younger brother’s face? He’d never meant those words, he’d never minded one second of the years he’d spent watching out for Sam. It was his job and one that he’d taken great pride in despite what he had viciously spouted at his brother.

And now, thanks to him, his brother was out there, with Mia, and in danger.

My fault… Sam’s in danger… my job… watch out for Sammy….my fault… my job…

The pounding ache behind his eyes was mild in comparison to the heart-crushing pain in his chest. But if Dean Winchester had learned any lesson during his young life, it was to ignore pain, especially pain born of emotion. Bury it, wall it up and move on. Emotional or physical, it was a weakness, and Dean didn’t have time to be weak for Sam’s sake.

I’m so sorry, Sammy. If we ever get out of this… I hope you can forgive me….

***

“So why are you here now, Mia? What do you want with me? Come to finish me off too?” Sam asked casually.

He was still shaken by her taunting him with Dean’s death, his very soul silently screaming out in agony and denial, but in honor of his brother he refused to give the woman the satisfaction of sharing his pain openly.

She laughed again as she had been doing since showing up in the classic Chevy; a mocking, sadistic laugh that bordered on cackling. Had the situation not been so dire, Sam would have almost laughed himself, almost expecting her to twist the edges of a mustache like some villain from a silent movie.

“You really don’t get it do you? I’m not after you, Sammy. I’m after your daddy,” she sneered, her eyes locking with his. “And so far, he’s not taking the bait.”

Sam remained silent, his mind churning with this new information. Their dad! He’d never seen that coming.

“Our dad? What does he have to do with this?” he asked.

“Well, isn’t that the sixty-four thousand dollar question? Where is he, Sam?”

“How the Hell would I know?”

“Oh come on, do you think I’m that stupid? I know you two have been in contact with him,” Mia snapped.

“Well obviously you’re pretty damn dumb then, ’cause I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen or spoke to him for months. Not since…” Sam stopped abruptly, catching himself before he divulged any information that the brunette might be able to use.

With Dean dea…, missing, Sam corrected himself silently, protecting the secret of their dad’s arrival might be the only thing standing between his survival and his certain demise. The brief phone call with his father had certainly seemed to indicate that the Winchester patriarch was wary of the girl.

“Since when?” Mia questioned, drawing back his attention.

Since he took off suddenly back at Bobby’s… Sam answered silently.

In the next moment, he sucked in a deep breath as realization struck him like a punch in the gut.

Dad knew!

“SINCE WHEN?” she screamed at him, her eyes flashing back and forth between their normal sienna and the demon sable.
It was Sam’s turn to smile, his eyes catching the subtle slip of control as Mia clenched her fists in frustration. Her façade of confidence now had a minor crack showing and the young hunter was determined to begin working on it.

“Tell me where Dean is and I’ll tell you where my dad is,” he offered.

Her eyes narrowed as she considered his proposal, but Sam could see that her body remained tense.

“Come on, Mia. You already said you were after the ‘bigger prize.’ Dean doesn’t mean anything to you now. Not if you’re really after our dad…”

Sam pushed her more as she remained obstinately quiet. “Think about it… John Winchester, the grand prize, the ultimate trophy for any demon. Why settle for Dean?”

She shook her head finally, looking away from him. “Nah. I don’t think so. You’re not gonna give up your dad. Nice try, Sammy.”

“Oh? You should know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my brother, Mia. He’s always been there for me, more than our dad ever was. So if it comes down to choosing between them, then you’ve not been paying attention to all the stories Dean told you or you’d know who I’d choose,” Sam insisted.

“Very convincing argument. You might have been a decent lawyer after all. Of course, you do need to know when to walk away from a losing case, Sam. And this is such a loser ’cause you don’t have anything to bargain with. Your brother is in chunks, spread across a half acre of landfill out west of the city. So unless you’re willing to trade your live daddy for a bucket and a pair of tongs, which I doubt, then you might reconsider your offer,” Mia taunted. “Maybe if you’re lucky, you can even find a big enough piece of Dean to hold a decent burial with.”

Sam cringed, bile rising up in his throat as his mind conjured up images to match the brunette’s hideous description. Still unwilling to believe her, nevertheless, he couldn’t help succumbing to her taunts.

Fighting back his stomach’s desire to invert itself, Sam sucked in another lungful of the night air. His plan to try to trick Mia into giving up Dean had failed, but he wasn’t about to give in just yet. He just had to keep her talking and hope she let something slip.

“So what the Hell are you if you’re not a demon?” he demanded. Better to know what he was up against since it was apparent that she had no intention of letting him go free.

“I’m the next step on the evolutionary ladder, darlin’” Mia hissed.

“More like the escalator to Hell,” Sam snarked back.

“Maybe halfway there… but I’m okay with that.” she chortled.

“Halfway?”

“Half human, half demon,” Mia explained. “But all pissed-off. Now enough is enough! Tell me where Daddy is or so help me, you’ll be joining your brother down in Hell…”

***

Half-demon, half human? What the hell? I mean, WHAT THE HELL? Good going, Winchester! Way to pick ’em’!

Inside the Impala’s darkened and stifling trunk, Dean lay helplessly immobile. Forced by paralysis to do nothing but listen to the conversation being carried on between Mia and Sam, the young man was left to his own self-recrimination.

What have I done? Sam… and now Dad? Why does she want Dad?

As the perspiration trickled annoyingly down his spine, Dean recalled all the subtle times Mia had asked about his dad. Seemingly innocent questions, “Why don’t you call him?” “When did you last see him?”, now held a much more sinister quality in hindsight.

She pumped you for information and you blabbed like a sixteen year-old girl. What happened to “we do what we do and we shut up about it?” Dad will so have your ass over this one…

Dad…

Dean struggled again against the uncooperative muscles in his arms. He could still feel the cell phone in the right pocket of his jeans. If only he could reach it. He might be able to call his dad for help or at the very least to warn him.

Not knowing if Mia had used some sort of demon power on him or if she had resorted to more traditional pharmaceutical methods, he merely knew that he had to try to fight against whatever was holding him. Concentrating, he focused on making the simplest movement of the fingers on his right hand. At first there was nothing, but as adrenaline borne of desperation began to surge through his system, he was rewarded with the slightest twitch of his index finger.

Still unable to vocalize any words of triumph, nevertheless, for that brief second, Dean felt his heart actually lift with some semblance of hope. If he could move that finger then it was only a matter of time before he would be able to move everything. His stalwart determination and his need to protect Sam would see to that.

Focusing once more, he drummed up every ounce of energy he could muster and put it into moving his hand. When nothing happened, Dean worried that maybe the first time had been an illusion, but just before he was ready to give in, the breath he was holding nearly ready to give out, his entire right hand jerked.

I’m coming, Sammy. Just be careful. I’m coming and that bitch is gonna pay…

***

“I’ll never tell you where he is and you’ll never find him!” Sam stated assuredly.

“Oh, you don’t think so huh?” Mia countered.

“No. Not if he doesn’t want to be found. Our dad is one of the toughest hunters out there. He’s battled your kind before. He’ll see you coming a mile away.”

“But Sam, he’s never dealt with anything like me,” she reminded him taking several steps away from him toward the rear of the Impala, her hand gliding along the smooth black curves of the car as she retreated.

“You don’t know our dad…” Sam warned. “He’s gonna kick your ass when he finds you.”

Mia whirled around to face him, her eyes shaded black again. “That’s such an empty threat, Sam. Johnny isn’t gonna be any more of a challenge for me than Dean was… or you for that matter.…”

Sam never saw her move, not even the minutest flick of her head or hands or eyes. But he felt an unseen hand slam into his chest, lifting him high into the air and smashing him back down hard into the ground like an invisible pro wrestler.

His first thought was that his spine was surely snapped in half, everything going instantly numb as he fought to suck oxygen into lungs that felt as though they had been filled with wet concrete. But as the numbness submitted to returning pain, Sam could feel every rock, every stick underneath him, each jammed into his back and seeking to tear and batter his flesh.

“What? No smartass remarks?” Mia asked, bending down to peer at him. “Oh, but then I guess it’s pretty hard to talk when your ribcage is flattened down on your spine.”

With a groan, he rolled to his side, looking up to see where the brunette was and preparing for her next attack. He saw her move out of the corner of his eye and tried to hastily make it back to his feet, but to no avail.

Like a puppet, Sam was hauled effortlessly upward, his legs dangling several inches above the ground as he hung suspended in midair. Against his will, he felt his arms and legs yanked outward, each pulled in an opposite direction as though he was being torn apart. The pain was intense as his limbs threatened to dislocate from the sockets and Sam had to wonder if this was what the demon had done to Dean; if this was what his brother had endured as Mia tortured him to death.

Below him, Mia looked up, her face still bearing the smug grin she’d been wearing most of the night. He turned his eyes away, not caring to see her or to let her see the slight panic he felt show through on his face.

“Gee Sam, you’re no fun at all. Not begging, not pleading, hell you’re not even defiant like your brother. At least he managed a few last nasty threats my way. Right before I gutted him of course,” Mia reminded him.

Sam screwed his eyes shut as his entire body tensed with rage. He couldn’t go down this way. Not out of respect for Dean. Dean would never give in without a fight so how could he do any less?

Still, despite the agony of losing his brother, despite the utter fury Sam could feel spreading throughout his body, even despite the incredible pain that was threatening to make him black out, none of those stimuli seemed powerful enough to enable the psychic to tap into the latent power within him.

“I’ll never beg…” Sam spat back, stalling for time as he prayed to feel some semblance of the strange tingling that usually signaled his own abilities beginning to manifest.

“Oh, but you will. I’ll make sure of that. I’ve been waiting a long time to see you bleed and hear you scream,” Mia answered.

With the slightest tilt of her head, Sam felt the pressure on his extremities release a little just as a sledgehammer slammed into his chest. He heard the telltale sound of his ribs cracking, giving way to the unseen force. He knew Mia had pretended to be possessed by Malphas, but only now did he realize that it was actually her that had exhibited the power to crush and destroy buildings, never the demon.

“Is that…the best… you got?” he choked out as a thin trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Struggling to survive and desperate to find some way to defend himself, Sam resorted to channeling his brother’s sarcastic defiance. Why couldn’t he simply lash back at her as he done with Alyssa Medina or even as he’d done back in Leicester?
Mia’s laughter broke his focus. “That’s more like it!” she purred. “I was hoping you’d put up a fight…”

With a nudge of her head, Sam felt himself dropped to the pavement next to the Impala. Allowed a brief respite from her evil attack, the young hunter grabbed for the handle to the rear door in an effort to pull himself up.

He was nearly to his knees when he felt Mia’s finger’s weave into his shaggy hair, grabbing a handful and forcefully snapping his neck backwards. Sam went lax, allowing his body to follow his head, his sudden weight throwing the smaller woman off balance.

Mia stumbled back, relinquishing her hold and giving Sam the chance to twist around. He dove for her legs, tackling her to the asphalt and covering her body as he fought to gain control of her.

Sam could count on one hand the times he’d ever struck a woman, but at this moment, he saw Mia as neither human nor a woman any longer. Clenching his fist, he slammed it into her jaw, taking some satisfaction out of the soft crack of her head as it rebounded against the pavement and the harsh grunt that escaped her lips.

“That was for my brother,” he snarled, staring down at her.

About to strike her again in an attempt to knock her unconscious, Sam was abruptly thrown backwards, his long body crashing into the rear quarter-panel of the Chevy so hard that the metal dented from the impact. As his vision blurred, he could barely make out the brunette as she rose and slowly approached him, but there was no mistaking the words she spoke.

“And that was just for me!”

***

Dean listened to the exchange between Sam and Mia, all the while fervently trying to make his body move. He had to get free, had to get out there and do something to help his brother out of the mess that he’d basically put him in.

As the verbal sparring continued between the two outside, Dean was left with no choice but to remain an unwilling audience. Trapped within the trunk, unable to make a noise, he couldn’t signal to Sam, he couldn’t even scream out all the anger and rage he felt at having been effectively used and betrayed.

In all the years that Dean Winchester had been hunting and even those times when he had found himself on the receiving end of some creature’s brutal attack, he’d never felt as utterly helpless as now. Worse, he’d rather be taking a beating than be forced to wait and wonder, blinded to what was happening outside.

But at least so far, the confrontation had remained nothing but taunts and threats. Dean knew Sam could hold his own in that department, but unfortunately, he also knew that his little brother often tended to try to talk his way out of things when he should just cut and run.

“…Or shoot first and ask questions later…” Dean added silently.

When the talking suddenly ended, the young captive held his breath, stilling even his respirations as he strained to make out any noise to indicate what was going on. In the next instant, he heard what sounded like the soft grunt of air being exhaled as though someone had taken a punch.

SAMMY!!!!

His gut told him what his other senses could not. Whatever had happened outside, his brother had gone silent and had probably been the source of the noise.

Frantic, Dean strained to scream, a meager squeak barely escaping his lips, his vocal cords as unresponsive as before. In desperation, he focused on his hand again, willing the appendage to move. Unlike before, there wasn’t even the slightest twitch.

There were more sounds of a scuffle and no mistaking the pained groan that filled the air. His brother was being hurt. Dean might not be able to see, but he knew nonetheless.

“Is that…the best… you got?”

Sam’s defiant jibe pierced the dark gloom of the trunk and despite the slow breathlessness of his delivery, Dean was never so glad to hear his brother’s voice.

That’s my boy! You tell that bitch! There’s no putting a Winchester down.

Except in the back of his mind, Dean reluctantly admitted that Mia had already gotten one over on him. Was his baby brother any match for the hybrid demon? Surely Sam could take her?

The elder sibling got his answer when the solid thunk of a fist connecting with flesh, followed by a female’s harsh cry of pain seeped into the confines of the trunk. Dean smiled inwardly, taking great joy in knowing that Mia had just been on the receiving end of a Winchester knuckle sandwich.

“That was for my brother,” he heard Sam bark at the young woman and in his mind’s eye, he could picture the shaggy hair of his brother partially obscuring Sam’s face as he combined his best glare to go along with the menacing tone.

“Finish her off, Sammy,” Dean silently commanded, straining to hear the next of his brother’s blows land.

But instead, the Impala was rocked by something heavy striking the rear driver’s side. Within the trunk, Dean’s body was tossed about like a rag doll as the entire car shifted from the impact.

Startled, Dean had no idea what was happening, but when he could no longer hear Sam’s voice, there was no preventing the chill that raged down his spine. He knew, as he had before, that his brother was in trouble once more.

Summoning all the rage and fury he could muster, he focused on the right hand again.

For Sam…move it for Sam…got to help Sam…

He repeated the mantra over and over in his head, using its rhythm like the hard metal riff of Metallica to simultaneously soothe his frazzled nerves while also helping him work toward his goal.

For Sam… move it for Sam…move it for Sam…move it…move it… for Sam…for Sam… Sam… samsamsamsamsamsam….

First his index finger twitched, then suddenly his entire hand spasmed. Determined, Dean pressed on, forcing his fingers to flex open and closed, heartened by the minor movement even though it was the only physical activity he could manifest.

For Sam…

Pushing on, Dean slowly and stiffly raised his hand. Since he was locked inside the Chevy’s trunk, above the secreted compartment, it meant the actual hatch was not far above his head.

Still straining to listen to the noises outside, he managed to reach up to the underside of the trunk lid. Still too weak to strike the metal and make any significant sound, instead he clawed at the lining with his fingertips.

“And that was just for me!” He heard Mia hiss.

Even more frantic, Dean tore at the trunk with his hand. His mind screaming even as the skin shredded from his fingers leaving bloody smears on the unyielding metal.

***

Mia lifted Sam without even touching him, effortlessly tossing him through the air and into the ditch beside the road. She repeated the process, several more times, using her demonic powers to telekinetically batter the young hunter as though he were nothing more than a tether ball she could beat back and forth.

Bruised and bloodied, Sam struggled to his knees during the brief respite she afforded him. He looked up at her from underneath hair matted with blood from a small cut in his scalp. Slightly dazed and breathless, he knew he was in trouble. He just needed to stall to catch his breath and think.

“Why Mia?” he asked, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

She paused, looking down at him with curiosity. “Why what?”

“Why the World Championship Wrestling exhibition? If you’re so powerful, part demon and all, why not just finish me off? Surely you could just blink an eye and snap my neck or something? What’s with beating the crap out me?” Sam queried.

She chuckled, her head cocked to the side as she brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. “Because it’s so damn much fun! And besides, you still haven’t told me what I want to know. Where’s your dad, Sam?”

“I don’t know…”

“Liar!”

“Well, then you better pull up a lawn chair, cause this is gonna take a while,” Sam quipped with a grimace.

“Fine…” Mia agreed and Sam felt himself thrown into the air, this time landing with sickening crack of a rib as he impacted a nearby telephone pole.

He barely raised his head to see her stride toward him. He was beaten, blood streaming from a dozen open lacerations and even more trickling from the corner of his mouth. It hurt to breathe, but that pain was resulting as much from the gut-wrenching ache of his brother’s death as much as it was from his fractured ribs.

Part of Sam just wanted to submit, to just drop back down to the ground and let the darkness overtake him both physically and mentally. He didn’t want to believe her that Dean was gone, but the strength she was exhibiting against him now left Sam with little hope that his brother could have fared any better against Mia than he was.

Dammit Dean, why couldn’t you have trusted me? Sam silently chastised his absent sibling.

“What’s the matter, Sammy? Giving in kinda easier than I expected for a big old boy like you. I’m shocked. I was hoping for a challenge after Dean,” Mia sneered as she drew closer.

“Go to Hell,” he gasped back, managing to draw up to one knee.

“Hell? Ha! Hell is Club Med to someone like me. But if you don’t tell me what I want to know, even SPF ten thousand isn’t gonna help you anymore than it did your brother,” the brunette promised in return.

Sam huffed air, shrugging as he met her eyes defiantly. “You sure are more stupid than I thought if you think that threat is going to get me to give up any info on my dad,” he replied.

The wide smile on Mia’s face never broke as she listened to Sam’s bold answer. If anything, she smugly knelt down and grabbed a handful of the younger Winchester’s hair.

“”I’m getting really tired of this. Tell me where your father is or I’ll go back and rip out your brother’s intestines and feed them to you,” she hissed, yanking back Sam’s head with a rough jerk.

The strain on his neck was excruciating, but Sam barely noticed, his mind pouncing on the young woman’s last words. Mia had slipped, threatening him with hurting Dean. Had she meant what she’d said or was it just another of her tricks? Could Dean be alive?

“What’s it gonna be, Sam?” Mia hissed, pulling even further on his head.

Dean’s alive….

He knew. He could tell by the way she tried to cover, but was too late. His brother was still alive and Mia was still planning on and able to hurt him.

As the muscles in his neck protested the abuse, the cartilage in his spine cracking, a unexpected tingle of energy seemed to course from the center of Sam’s body. Flowing outward along his extremities, it was as though he had plugged himself into an electrical socket and was allowing the current to flow through him.

Something inside him exploded, like a primal scream tearing from his body even though he never uttered a sound. The pressure on his neck was suddenly released, allowing Sam to look forward and see Mia’s body go sailing through the night air and slamming into the Impala’s trunk with a resounding thud.

***

With only five fingers responding to his mental command, Dean clawed desperately at the interior lid of the trunk. Lacking the muscular coordination to move his entire arm, he was unable to beat on the metal and signal his presence.

Still, he wasn’t about to give up now. Not when he could hear the battle going on outside, not when he was forced to listen to Mia’s taunts and Sam’s pain-filled grunts and groans as he tried to defy the demon.

Realistically, Dean knew he couldn’t get out of his prison, not in his current condition. But even as he felt the blood stream down his hands from his mangled fingertips, mixing with perspiration and continuing down his arms to clot in a sticky mess, he didn’t relent.

Driven by a soul-consuming guilt and the absolute need to protect his brother, Dean fought against the paralyzing effects of whatever power Mia had used against him.

For Sam…move it for Sam…got to help Sam…

He returned to the mantra, straining to move his left hand to compliment the ongoing scrabbling of the right. Just like its mate, beginning with an uncoordinated twitch then expanding to a grander movement, his fingers clenched closed then reopened.

For Sam…

Dean then focused on his arms, tensing the muscles in both biceps like a weightlifter about to benchpress a heavy bar. Like before, initially there was no response. But as the sounds of the melee outside grew, the hunter redoubled his efforts, crimping his eyes tightly closed as he put every ounce of energy into forcing his body to obey.

…got to help Sam

And then both arms moved.

He still felt as though they weighed a ton, neither appendage responding as fluidly as his well-trained body was accustomed, but it was a start. Pressing on, Dean reached to the pocket in his jeans for the cellular. Fumbling spastically, he finally retrieved it only to groan in silent fury when he remembered that it was still dead, courtesy of Mia.

Useless…

Like me…

Dropping the phone he then tried to feel about the trunk around his body, hoping there might be something useful for prying open the trunk from the inside. Providing of course, he could summon the strength to use it.

His hand came in contact with the handle of one of their well-used shovels, but the length of the implement lay mostly underneath his body. Even if he could roll off of the tool, it was unlikely he could move it in such close quarters to be effective.

Frustrated, he was about to resort to simply pounding on the metal. Maybe if Sam could hear him. Maybe his younger brother could break away long enough to free him. Two on one had to be better odds.

Raising his hands, he was just about to beat on the Chevy’s trunk when a deafening crash made him recoil within the stifling darkness. Something, no someone, had just slammed into the top of the trunk rocking the entire vehicle and actually denting it in on top of his already confined space.

The scraping sound of movement against the Impala’s metal skin accompanied a loud groan of pain causing a flood of dread to wash over Dean as he feared for his brother’s welfare. How much more abuse could Sam take?

“Sammmyyy…” Dean croaked out, his voice nothing more than the barest whisper.

***

Sam rose shakily to his feet, blinking owlishly as he watched Mia’s body roll convulsively on the back of the dark Chevy. His finger’s still tingled as though he’d just been shocked and the hair on the nape of his neck stood on end.

His brain felt as though every single neuron was attempting to fire simultaneously and he absently wondered if he was going to have a seizure. Yet as he stood there, his mind coming to focus as his eyes did, Sam knew differently.

This was no different than Massachusetts, no different than Phoenix before. He had reflected Mia’s power back on her, just as he had Alyssa, just as he had Lucifer himself.

“You’re calling me demonic?” The words he’d thrown back at his brother just hours before now came back to haunt him.

What the hell, maybe I am. Sam thought to himself. Maybe Dean was right, maybe it did take one to know one.

Caught in his introspection, the young psychic didn’t notice Mia slide off the rear of the car and stagger to her feet to face him. A smear of blood marred her milky complexion and her right cheek was already bruising from where her face had impacted the unyielding Detroit steel.

“I’d heard you had a few parlor tricks yourself…” she smirked, unsuccessfully trying to look as cocky as before.
Sam glared at her, his eyes steely as he strode confidently back toward her, ready to confront the hybrid demon once again.

Dean’s alive…

“Where’s my brother, bitch?” he demanded, feeling the surge of energy building within him again.

Mia wiped a hand across her mouth smearing blood like a toddler playing with lipstick. The visage she created would have appeared comical were it not for the absolute look of fury that flashed in her dark eyes.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she sneered.

“He’s alive. I know it Mia. You can’t lie about that to me now,” Sam stated stalwartly, taking several more steps toward the brunette.

He saw her flinch as he advanced, a brief glimmer of fear taking residence in her eyes that she quickly tried to cover. It gave him hope and a sense of bravado that he hadn’t felt up to this point. Before, his only plan was to put up a fight that would have done his brother proud. Now, he was in Pissed-off Sam Mode, fighting to save Dean.

“You’ll never save him with those pathetic skills of yours Sam. You’re no match for me,” Mia taunted.

Sam took another step and was about to tell the demon just what he thought about her threats when she waved her hand and he felt himself frozen in place. Paralyzed, he couldn’t move a muscle, he couldn’t even form the words to speak.

He watched in frozen horror as she now closed the final space between them, a smug grin covering her face. Sam tried to breathe, but even that simple action seemed nearly impossible so complete was her power controlling his body. He was suffocating as he stood there, the muscles that expanded his chest as unresponsive as the rest of his tall form.

Sam cringed inwardly as Mia pulled close to him, her warm breath vile and violating as her mouth neared his ear. She paused, glancing over her shoulders as the glare of headlights illuminated the otherwise near darkness.

Turning back to face him, the smile that covered her face was nothing short of victorious and Sam felt his hopes diminish as his vision began to fade.

“Bye bye baby Winchester,” she hissed.

***

The blaring of a car horn permeated the metal coffin of the Impala’s trunk and Dean briefly stopped his futile attempt at pounding on the lid’s underside. As he held his breath, remaining as quiet as possible so he could hear what was happening, the squeal of tires followed by the sickening thud of a heavy impact assailed his ears.

His heart racing, Dean listened intently, waiting for any sound, praying to hear Sam’s voice once again. For what seemed like an eternity, only the pounding of his own heartbeat within his chest echoed in his ears. He yelled out again, calling his brother’s name, his voice barely stronger than before, but still not able to pierce the thick metal of the trunk.

“Not so special now, are you Sammy?”

Mia’s voice was muffled but Dean could make it out all too plainly.

SAM!

What had the bitch done to his brother?

Spurred on by the desperate need to reach his sibling, Dean beat on the metal with both fists ignoring the further damage to his hands as the flesh tore from his knuckles and the metacarpal fractured from the relentless impact.

Despite the racket created by his determined pounding, the sound of footsteps approaching the trunk broke through the din. Dean stopped his frantic attempt to escape, waiting anxiously as the noise neared.

With a loud groan of metal, the trunk lid flew upward, light from a nearby streetlight cascading in and blinding him as he tried to blink against it. Raising a hand to shield his abused eyes, Dean blinked several times before his vision adjusted enough to see Mia silhouetted against the night skyline.

“Mia…” he hissed out between his teeth.

Watching as she bent down over him, her face was covered in blood from a gash above her eye and another just grazing her cheekbone. She looked as though she had gone several rounds with Mike Tyson and the thought made Dean smile briefly.

Atta boy, Sammy!

Yet, as he watched, the wounds closed seamlessly, returning her skin to the near-flawless complexion that he had once adored. Still looking at her, Dean saw that her hands were covered in blood as well, fingers coated with congealed red-black fluid as she reached in toward him.

“Don’t worry, baby. It isn’t mine,” she assured him as her hands neared his neck.

Dean twisted away, repulsed at the mere thought that she might touch him.

He jerked as she closed her bloody fingers around the golden amulet that lay against his chest. But as her skin came in contact with the ancient relic, the talisman tarnished over to jet black as though some evil cancer had eaten away at the gold.

In an instant, the former piece of King Solomon’s sword became as black as coal, eerily similar to the appearance it had taken on when Dean had been possessed by Haris’ spawn.

It knows what she is…

Mia let out a hiss, withdrawing her hand and sucking on her fingertips as though they had been burned. Shaking her head, she glared down at Dean, her eyes glazing over as black as the amulet.

“Dammit,” she snarled. “Boys and their toys.”

Reaching toward him again, Dean managed to twist sideways. “Stay the hell away from me,” he growled defiantly.

“My my. I thought we weren’t talking,” Mia snarked, raising her hand to silence the hunter once again.

“Where’s Sam? What did you do to my brother?” Dean managed before she acted.

Mia smiled sadistically, her eyes sparkling with sheer glee. Ignoring Dean’s question, she instead grabbed his right hand and with more physical strength than he would have credited her with, she tore the silver ring from his finger ignoring the blood and fragments of skin that ripped free in the process.

“Give that back, you bitch!” he demanded.

“Be grateful I didn’t take the whole finger-” Mia replied, “ – lover.”

“Where’s Sam?” Dean asked again, his voice bordering on a plea.

Mia laughed deep in her throat. “Roadkill” she answered. “Another victim of our treacherous highways. You know there’s a reason why hitchhiking isn’t safe. You should see the statistics.”

Dean thrashed in denial. “NO! SAM!” he screamed out into the night.

Mia waved her hand above him, silencing him both vocally and physically once again, his repeated cry of his brother’s name wordlessly mouthed.

“Good boys should be seen and not heard,” she chastised him.

Dean tried to yell out in defiance but once again his lungs would not cooperate. He struggled to lift his hand to reach for the trail of her blouse, but it would not obey.

Paralyzed once more, he could only scream in silence as he watched Mia hover over him. His last sight as darkness engulfed him was her face screwed up in a diabolical laugh as she slammed the trunk closed and sealed him back into his metal cage.

***

Mia continued laughing as the Impala’s trunk shut with a resounding bang. Although she hadn’t gotten exactly what she’d wanted out of the day’s events, overall, she was relatively pleased with herself. Two hunters down and the big prize was sure to come running.

Walking over to the other side of the road, she glanced down into the ditch and the unmoving form that lay crumpled in a bloodied heap. Still smiling, she rolled the silver ring between her blood-smeared fingers before looking back at the unresponsive body.

Yep, things were turning out halfway decent … all things considered. It hadn’t been her original plan to bait John Winchester in this manner, but hell, whatever worked.

After all, Sam had been a royal pain in her ass. He’d almost blown her cover more times than she could count. She held no particular remorse for him now. And Dean… poor pathetic, usable Dean. So sure, so cocky, so easily twisted to her purpose. She basked in the misery she was causing him. Nothing was more torment to Dean than the thought that he had betrayed his own flesh and blood, and for a demon no less.

A soft moan rose from the ditch and Mia turned her focus back toward the broken figure lying silently among the weeds.

That’s retribution!

“So sad,” she said mockingly as she flicked Dean’s silver ring at the younger Winchester. It landed on his chest, the blood from Dean’s torn fingers mixing with Sam’s as the piece of jewelry sat as a silent marker of the brothers downfall.

“You aren’t looking so good there, Sammy. Sure hope Daddy finds you soon,” Mia taunted.

Turning on her heel, she strode back to the Impala. Sliding into the driver’s side seat, she keyed the ignition and shifted the powerful car into gear.

In a cloud of dust and flying gravel, she raced off into the night. One Winchester trapped and at her mercy, her plans for Dean just beginning to unfold, the other, bleeding and helpless, once again deserted by the side of the road.

To be continued...in Retribution...

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The Winchester Chronicles