Fic: Never Say Die (13/16)

[briarwood]

Title: Never Say Die (13/16)
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: Adults Only
Pairing: John/Ellen (see notes in Part 0)
Summary: After a hunt that went horribly wrong, John wakes up in a California hospital. It's thirteen years later, everyone he trusted seems to be dead, and he has no idea how to find his sons. Meanwhile, unknown to John, Dean's time is running out.
Warnings: Darkfic. Character death. Torture. (See notes in Part 0 for more details)
Spoilers: Up to Jus In Bello.
Previous chapters: archived here.

---

NEVER SAY DIE

Part Thirteen

Ellen cradled John's left hand in both of hers. The swelling was worse even than a few minutes before. Two of John's fingers were broken for sure. The joints were twisted at unnatural angles. In places the skin had been cut by whatever device they had used on him. The damage was horrible. Ellen kept her eyes down, looking at the injury until she was sure she could meet John's eyes.

His eyes were closed when she looked up, his jaw clenched tight against the pain. Perhaps he was afraid of the look on her face.

"John, I can't fix this." Ellen knew she was stating the obvious.

He didn't open his eyes. "I know. That was the point, I think." His voice was rough, as if his throat was sore. Ellen knew he had been screaming.

"There's no ice, so I can't bring the swelling down. I need to do that before I can splint your fingers, but..."

"But if we wait that long," John finished for her, still in that raspy, painful voice, "the bones will start to heal as they are." He opened his eyes, then, looking at her. "Ellen, don't even try if you're squeamish."

"Squeamish?" she repeated, mock-offended. "Me?" She could do what had to be done, but it would hurt him. John had endured enough torture for one day.

"It's okay." John moved his hand in hers and winced. "Do it," he ordered.

Ellen picked up her belt, which she'd discarded earlier, folded it over and offered it to him. "Bite on this."

John obeyed, holding the folded leather between his teeth.

Ellen felt her way along his smallest finger. It was the worst, broken at each joint and perhaps between the joints as well. It was impossible to be sure. John needed an x-ray and a surgeon, but she was all he had. At least it was his left hand. Small mercies.

Steeling herself, Ellen pulled slowly and steadily on the broken finger, starting at the base. She felt her grip slip in his sweat and had no choice but to grip harder. John cried out, the sound muffled by the leather but full of the agony he had to be feeling. Ellen kept up the pressure. Once begun, she dared not stop until it was done. John should have fought her, tried to escape the pain, but somehow he kept his hand and arm still, breathing heavily, sweat pouring down his face. Ellen felt the first joint slip into place and still she could not stop.

John screamed around the belt, half-formed words she knew he didn't mean, but he held still. His free hand gripped the metal headboard, the knuckles white.

Finally, Ellen released him. She kept his hand in one of hers and reached up to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Right now," John said hoarsely, "I'd sell my soul for some aspirin."

"Don't say that too loud, one of 'em might hear you," Ellen said seriously. "And morphine's what you need." She looked down at his hand. The finger looked a lot better: still swollen but almost straight. "Do you want me to keep going?" she asked. It hurt him so much, but if he was to have any hope of using his hand again, she had to try.

John looked down. "I'm ready," was all he said.

Ellen began again.

When it was over, Ellen bandaged the fingers as best she could, using strips of her shirt for bandages and a folded paper plate as a splint. It was better than nothing.

Perhaps next time, the demons would take her instead. It would almost be a relief. Could John take more of this torture? This was the first time they had done him permanent damage, but she feared what else they might do to him. Despite her attempt at first aid, she wasn't convinced John would ever have much use of his hand again.

Does it matter? They're going to kill us both.

John lay back on the bunk, cradling his injured hand. "Ellen."

"What, John?"

"Thanks."

Her eyes flew wide. "Holy shit, you're thanking me?"

"I'm glad you're here, honey."

Ellen shook her head. "We need to get the fuck out of here while you can still walk," she reminded him.

John frowned. "Not easy. They'll be ready for the next attempt."

"So let's go over it again. John, you can't take much more of this."

"I can take it. It's just pain."

"Bullshit," she declared.

John reached for her with his good hand. "Believe me, Ellen, it could be a lot worse." He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. "They don't want us dead. This isn't about drawing Sam in; they don't need us alive for that. And what they've done to my hand..." he lifted the hand, emphasising his point, "isn't even close to the worst they could do to me. No, Ellen, they're being very careful and that's scaring me. What do they want from us?"

Ellen shook her head. "I don't know, John."

He drew in a deep breath. "Alright. We're in a bunker underneath the main house. If we get out of this room there's a hallway about fifteen feet long..."

---

Ruby walked down the long road alone, her high heels clicking on the uneven asphalt. She wore tight leather pants belted with an oversized silver buckle. The belt held her demon-killing knife in a sheath at her back, though she did not expect to need it this night. Above the belt buckle a jewelled cross hung between her breasts, glinting against her dark top. Her long, blonde hair gleamed in the moonlight.

The sweet scent of magnolia blossoms filled the air as she entered the grove. Here, trees curved above her, forming a long tunnel and the click-clack of her heels was muffled by fallen leaves. She walked boldly down the middle of the grove. With the moonlight behind her she would be clearly visible to any watcher. That was the point. Ruby could see the house ahead, its white-patched walls looming out of the darkness. The house had been the centre of a grand plantation once, before the war came and the place was burned. Long after the war the house was rebuilt by someone who had no idea about architecture. The result was a hybrid monstrosity: half of the house still resembled the great mansion of the King Cotton days, but the newer parts were brick-built and didn't match up at all. Outside, though, some remnant of old glories remained in the groves and gardens.

Ruby heard the dogs barking before she emerged from the grove. She knew from the sound that they were big dogs and the baying was coming closer and closer. Ruby sighed and turned toward the sound. She did not run. This would not take long.

They burst out of the trees, baying for blood. Ruby gestured - a lazy flick of power - and the lead dog flew backward into its pack-mates. It landed on its back, whining. It rolled and came to its feet. Ruby ignored the other five, focussing her gaze on the lead dog. She felt her eyes blacken as she gathered her power. The dog growled menacingly. Ruby stared it down and the growl became a frightened whine. The dog lay down, cowering submissively.

Ruby bared her teeth at it. "Piss off, puppy," she snarled.

The dog cringed.

"You heard me. Piss off."

The dog turned tail and ran. Its pack followed.

Ruby watched them go, satisfied. She continued down the road to the house. As she reached the tall, heavy doors they opened. Several demons emerged, forming a barrier between Ruby and the door.

Ruby stopped a short distance from them. "I want to see her," she announced, pitching her voice to carry.

"Why would she see you, traitorous bitch!" It was the male demon in the centre of the line. He'd chosen the body of some nightclub bouncer by the look of him. Pathetic.

Ruby rolled her eyes. "Look, you're going to let me pass anyway. Instead of making me slit your worthless throat, why don't we skip that part? It'll be so much friendlier."

"Let's not." He began to gather power into himself.

"You'll let me pass because you want to see what Lilith will do to me. And she'll see me because," Ruby smiled her victory, "I'm going to give her the Winchesters."

The demons let her pass.

Most demons had no imagination, in Ruby's opinion. They spent centuries trying to crawl out of Hell and when someone opened a door, when they finally escaped the prison of despair, they tried to build a piece of Hell on Earth. Ruby looked around the room with contempt that she couldn't quite hide. Maybe the house had been a BDSM brothel before Lilith and her cronies moved in. Maybe that was why she chose it. What was wrong with a nice apartment?

What had probably been a ballroom in the original house was now Lilith's torture room. There was a lot of black draped around the walls, a lot of leather and steel. A frame along one wall held chains to display slaves. Ruby saw torture devices familiar from the Dark Ages.

Ruby walked down the centre of the room and silence fell as the gathered demons saw her and recognised her. By the time she was halfway there, the loudest sound was her boots on the polished floor. There were two white marble pillars at the far end of the room, each with multiple chains set into them. She could see blood stark against the marble, but other than that there was no sign of victims.

It did make a kind of sense, Ruby decided. But if they missed torturing the poor damned souls in Hell so much, why didn't they just go back there?

Lilith herself sat on a raised dais in a large, black-draped chair. She was the picture of innocence in her white party dress and rosy cheeked smile, but Ruby didn't care a bit for her appearance. She knew what Lilith was: psychotic even by demon standards. Ruby watched her carefully as she approached, alert for danger or some indication of the demon queen's mood.

Lilith gestured - the smallest motion of her tiny hand - and Ruby dropped to her knees at once. She lowered her eyes, putting on a show of submission.

"Ruby," Lilith cooed. "You saved me the trouble of hunting you down. How sweet."

Ruby kept her eyes downcast. It was an effort to make her voice submissive. "I came to serve you."

"You came," Lilith's voice hardened, "to serve yourself." She came down from her dais and stalked toward Ruby. The other demons formed a wide circle around them, cutting off Ruby's escape. It didn't matter: escape wasn't on her agenda.

Ruby risked looking up to meet Lilith's eyes. "Alright. I came to trade."

"Trade?"

"I can give you Sam Winchester."

Lilith leaned close, so her face filled Ruby's vision. "I don't need you for that."

She moved too fast for Ruby to see and threw Ruby to the floor. Ruby had no time to react and she slid across the ground, sprawling. She recovered quickly and scrambled to her knees again. But when she looked for Lilith, she saw her own knife in the demon-child's hand.

Ruby raised her chin, feigning a confidence she no longer felt. "You don't really think he'll just walk in here all alone, do you?"

Lilith pressed the knife into Ruby's cheek. "Talk."

"Sam will come to you, but he'll have a plan. He'll come with others. You'll kill him, of course, but it'll be messy. You'll have losses. Sam trusts me. I can persuade him to come with only his brother. I can tell you when and where they will be."

Lilith seemed interested. "In exchange for what?"

Ruby looked into Lilith's eyes. "I want my freedom. And I want John Winchester."

Those white eyes narrowed. "No."

"I know you have him," Ruby pressed on. "I don't care what you do with him, but I want what's left when he's no more use to you. Look into my mind, Lilith. You'll see how much I want to hurt him."

Lilith accepted Ruby's invitation. Ruby knew she would and she was braced for it, but she wasn't prepared for the touch of Lilith's mind. Lilith tore into Ruby's mindscape like the fires of Hell. Ruby screamed, clutching her head as if that could keep her out. She fought to show Lilith only what she wanted her to see. She was so strong! Ruby couldn't keep her out. Lilith sifted though her thoughts and memories like shuffling a deck of cards. There was only one chance for Ruby: distract her.

Ruby took the memory of what John did to her and threw it at Lilith, showing her all of it, every second of that long torture and everything she wanted to do to the bastard in retaliation. When she felt Lilith begin to draw away mentally, Ruby grabbed for the knife that Lilith still held against her skin.

That did it. Lilith broke the connection between their minds. She slashed at Ruby, not with the knife but with power.

Had she seen? Did she know?

Ruby's blood flowed across the floor.  She saw the white tips of Lilith's slippers near her own face. The spreading pool of Ruby's blood didn't quite reach those perfect shoes.

Lilith's delighted laughter filled the air.

---

Dean switched the radio off and slowed the Impala. "I think that's the place," he said, turning the headlamps to full beam so Sam could see.

"Dead tree. Grey boulder. That's it," Sam agreed.

Dean killed the lights and drove a short distance past the rendezvous. He took the Impala off the road and parked behind some scrub. "You sure you want to do this?"

Sam turned to him, his expression serious. There was something different about Sam since the demon showed up at Bobby's yard. He seemed resigned, as if he didn't expect to survive this fight. But he'd shut down every attempt Dean made to talk about it or shake him out of his mood.

"If we don't," Sam said flatly, "Dad's dead. Or worse. Do you really want to talk me out of it?"

"No! But just the two of us? It's crazy, Sam. We could at least have Bobby and David as backup - "

"Cannon fodder is what they would be," Sam growled. "Or did you forget Monument?"

"No, I didn't forget." Dean wanted to point out that it was Sam he cared about, but speaking his fears aloud would make them too real. Sam was right: they had to do this for Dad. And for Ellen. Dean couldn't walk away from that.

He hated the plan.

Sam had known he would, of course. Back at Bobby's place Dean tried to persuade Sam to wait, even though waiting might cost John his life. Dean pointed out that they had a plan. What about all those hunters Ellen and Bobby had called. Wouldn't it be better to wait for them? But it was Bobby, not Sam, who quashed that idea.

"It's too late to call off the meeting," Bobby conceded, "but you boys shouldn't be here when it happens. It'll be a fight and with John and Ellen missing I ain't sure we'd win. Even if we do, it'll delay you. You boys have to go while there's a chance they're still alive."

Sam agreed with Bobby. "Bobby, will you and David wait here? The meeting can still happen. If anyone will join you - us - you can follow us to Georgia."

"And what? Pick up the pieces?"

Sam shook his head wearily. "If we fail, Bobby, someone will have to."

Bobby's expression darkened. "Boy, if you believe you're gonna fail, you ain't goin'."

Sam looked up at him, pleading. "I don't plan on screwing up, but this is bigger than anything we've ever tried." He shook his head as if trying to dispel an irritating sound. "I keep seeing a black room full of candles, and a river of blood. I don't know if it's some kind of vision or just my imagination."

Dean exchanged a look with the older hunter and knew they were both thinking the same thing. This plan kept sounding worse and worse. The trouble was, neither of them could come up with a better one.

So Dean simply killed the engine and climbed out of the Impala. He walked around to the trunk. He was already armed but he added a couple of spare magazines to his pockets and two bottles of holy water.

Sam joined him, silently loading up: water, salt, gun, knives. He checked the devil's trap drawn on the trunk.

Dean reached into the trunk for one last weapon then slammed it closed. "Let's go to work."

---

They waited for Ruby until the first light of dawn turned the sky from black to deepest indigo. She didn't show up.

It didn't change the plan, but it didn't make Dean like this any more. Did something go wrong? Or had she screwed them?

They set off toward the house. They walked in silence, both alert for any sign of pursuit or danger. The trees cast long shadows in the dawn light and the morning air smelled like damp earth. They moved as quietly as they could, Dean with his gun in one hand. The gun wouldn't be much use against demons, but it made him feel better.

They got surprisingly close before the demons surrounded them. It happened very quickly. One moment Dean was looking at his brother, asking silently which way Sam wanted to go, the next they were in the middle of a fight.

The brothers turned at the same time, placing themselves back to back. Dean shoved the gun into his pocket and, in the same movement, grabbed the first bottle of holy water. He squeezed the plastic bottle, spraying a jet of water around him in a semi-circle. Every demon he hit reacted in pain. One of them rounded on him, snarling like a dog. Dean aimed his next jet at that snarling face, but he never had the chance to aim a third.

The snarling demon went down, clawing at his steaming face. Some great weight slammed into Dean's side and his body was suddenly airborne. He flew awkwardly into the nearest tree. The impact knocked the breath out of him. He braced himself for the fall, but it didn't happen. Dean hung there, five feet above the ground.

Dean went for his second bottle, a little surprised he could move. Beneath him, Sam was fighting hand-to-hand, which was pretty dumb, but Sam seemed to be doing okay. Two demons down. Dean got his bottle aimed at the demons below.

Sam looked up toward him. He raised one hand and the bottle was wrenched from Dean's grasp. Sam caught it and turned it on the demons. More cries of pain filled the air. Dean heard Sam begin an exorcism but there was no way it could work like that. There were just too many of them.

They fought a good fight, but of course they both lost in the end.

Dean ended up face-down in the dew-damp grass with a demon's knee in the middle of his back. The demon yanked Dean's hands behind his back. Pain shot through his shoulders and he turned his head to one side, struggling to breathe while his hands were bound with rope.

He saw Sam, held down by three demons. Sam was looking Dean's way even as he struggled against their captors.

Dean just couldn't help it. "Great plan!" he spat at his brother. "Fucking great plan!"

---

Not even the most deranged movie set-designer could have come up with this, Sam thought as he got his first look at Lilith's hall of horrors. He had a demon-guard on each side, and his hands were bound. Behind him, Dean was in a similar predicament. There was nothing they could do but co-operate and hope for an opening.

The hall was like Anne-Rice-meets-Hellraiser: a torture chamber with mock-gothic touches. Sam saw the torture devices and chains but resolutely ignored them all. The air smelled of burning wax from the many candles around the room. It wasn't an affectation, Sam realised: the electric light wouldn't be very reliable with so many demons around.

The ropes at Sam's wrists were beginning to cut into his skin. His hands were becoming numb. It was not a good sign.

The demons had searched them both outside. They destroyed the holy water, of course, and took the guns. Sam still had a switchblade they had missed and he would bet Dean still had a weapon or two. Would that be enough?

The crowd parted ahead of them and Sam saw the man chained to the marble pillar. He was chained with his back to the room, as if hugging the cold marble and his face was turned away from them, but Sam recognised his father at once. He fought not to look back at Dean. He fought not to show any feeling at all at the sight of his father's blood-streaked back. Sam lost the battle with himself and twisted to see Dean. Dean was staring at John, the horror naked on his face. It was all too easy to read Dean's thoughts: were they too late? What had they done to him?

Sam looked again at his father. John wasn't moving. Don't let him be dead. Please don't let him be dead. There was a wide patch of dried blood on the floor near the pillar. A lot of blood had been spilled there. Was it Dad's?

That was when Sam saw Lilith. He was familiar with her appearance - or, rather, the appearance of the body she inhabited. The second time he and Dean escaped her was in a busy shopping mall. Lilith's demons had burned the place to the ground searching for them. The news services reported it as a terrorist attack, but a few days afterward Sam found a video of the incident on YouTube of all places. It was a film taken from someone's cell phone and it showed a child, a little girl, walking through the flames as if they weren't even there. Sam knew it had to be Lilith. But they had never before met in the flesh.

Sam could feel Lilith's power, a kind of pressure in his mind. He concentrated on building up his psychic shields, but she didn't try his defences. That pressure he felt was simply her presence. She wasn't more powerful than Azazel had been, but she was very different.

Lilith walked toward him, hand-in-hand with a demon in an older woman's body. The woman's hands were coated with blood so thick that at first Sam thought she was wearing gloves. Lilith's white dress was spattered with blood like poker dots. She turned her face toward Sam. Her eyes were absolutely white. It was as if she were blind, but Sam didn't think that was it.

He shook off the demons holding his arms but made no move toward her. He would have only one chance at this.

Lilith smiled. It was a child's smile: a little girl unwrapping a much-anticipated gift. "I've waited a long time to meet you, Sam Winchester," she said in a high, clear voice.

Sam shrugged. "Well, I'm here. So now what?"

She signalled and the demons took Sam's arms again.

"Put him with his whore," Lilith ordered. She turned toward Dean.

Panic filled Sam as the demons began to drag him away. They were taking him, but not Dean. Why? Wasn't it him they wanted? Sam struggled against the demons that held him. "No! Dean!" They couldn't be separated. No!

A demon jerked Sam's arm painfully, and hissed into his ear. "Stop, or we kill him slow."

Sam stopped struggling. It would be okay. It had to be okay.

The demons led him to a door painted with symbols Sam didn't recognise. One of the demons unlocked the door. It led into a small room with floor-to-ceiling bars bisecting it, like a cell in a small-town police station. There was someone on the other side of the bars. Sam saw long blonde hair matted with blood, a woman's figure crouched on the floor. Ruby!

When she hadn't met them at the rendezvous, Sam assumed she'd made a run for it. To find her here was a shock. She should be miles away by now.

Ruby looked up and met Sam's eyes. She said nothing.

The demons released the ropes at Sam's wrists. He considered making a break for it, but co-operating seemed the best way to get the plan back on track. He was terrified for Dean...but Dean would take care of himself. So Sam allowed them to tie him to the bars of the cell. They tied him standing up with his arms spread wide, his back to the cell. He remained silent while they bound him and left. The lock clicked and he heard the scrape of something being placed in front of the door.

"Ruby? What happened?" Sam craned his neck to look at her. From his position, it wasn't easy. The best he could do was to watch with his peripheral vision.

"What do you think happened?" she demanded contemptuously.

"Does she know?"

Ruby was silent. "I'm not sure. She...she...got into my mind. She saw a lot but I don't know."

Okay. If Lilith knew what Sam planned to do, she would have killed him right away. Unless...no, don't think that. So Lilith didn't know the plan. It could still work.

"Why are you still here?" Sam asked. "You know what - "

"I can't leave!" she snapped. "Prisoner, dude. See?"

Sam damned near broke his own neck but finally he did see: there was a devil's trap drawn on the floor of Ruby's cell. But how did that get there? Could a demon have drawn that?

He was letting it distract him. Fuck. "Alright. Hold on. I'm going to get us out of here."

Sam could not reach the knots at his wrists, but if he concentrated he might be strong enough to...

"Don't waste your time."

"What?"

"Your powers won't work in here. Didn't you see the door?"

Oh. Oh, shit. Sam sighed. "Can you reach me at all?"

"I'll try."

Sam waited. He heard Ruby swear. Well, it was a long shot. Then he felt her touch - her hand on his ass.

"My left leg. I have a knife in my boot." Sam tried to push his foot through the bars, but the gap was too narrow. He waited.

After a while, Ruby swore again. "I can't. It's too far."

He didn't answer. He tried to turn his wrist within the rope. It hurt, but he could move, a little. It would take hours to get loose this way, but he could do it. He closed his eyes, concentrating on that small movement, making the ropes give, just a little, just a little more.

"I saw him," Ruby said, breaking his concentration. "John. He's alive, but - "

Sam sighed. "I bet that cuts you up." He continued to turn his wrist, one way then the other. "I saw him, too," he admitted finally.

"She's using Jezebel," Ruby said.

Sam stopped. "Who's Jezebel?" He knew the name, of course, but he thought it unlikely that Ruby was talking about a biblical hooker.

"She's Lilith's torturer."

Sam remembered all the blood he saw on the floor around the pillar. "Dad won't talk," he answered. He knew it was true. But what would keeping his secrets cost Dad?

"You don't get it, Sam. It doesn't matter if he talks. Jezebel uses pain to break into her victims' minds. Whatever he knows, she can find if she hurts him badly enough."

"Ruby. Shut up and let me work." Sam went back to trying to loosen the rope. Jezebel is Lilith's torturer. She uses pain to break into her victims' minds. Which meant that Sam needed to get to John soon, before Lilith could learn what she wanted: the names and locations of the next generation of psychic children.

"Sam." Ruby interrupted him again. "Get me out of here. Please."

Sam didn't understand. "I'm a little tied up right now!" he declared irritably.

"You can do it. Get me out of here. Send me back."

Finally, Sam got it. She was suggesting he could exorcise her. Well, she was in a devil's trap. He had no holy water, but he had performed exorcisms without it before. It should work. But why would she want to go to Hell? Sam knew Hell was Hell, even for demons.

"Are you sure, Ruby?"

"I've got a better chance in Hell than if I stay here. So yes! Do it."

Sam craned his neck to look around at her. What had Lilith done to make Ruby so afraid? Or was it him she feared?

"Ruby," he said softly, "I know you helped us for your own reasons. I know you used me. Just the same, thank you."

"You have no idea what my reasons were," she answered, but her voice was softer now.

"I'm damned sure it wasn't for my pretty face. But if you find a way out of Hell, look me up. I think I owe you one."

"Just do it, Sam. Before they come for you."

Alright. Sam focussed all his attention on Ruby. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas..."

Ruby screamed. Black smoke poured from her mouth in a thick torrent, upward until it hit the ceiling. Then  it plunged down, down through the floor. Into Hell.

The body Ruby had stolen a year before toppled over, blood spilling from several wounds and forming a slowly spreading pool around her.

Part Fourteen