Case 04: Florence, OR

Nuuuuu why did it have to be Dean?! The body must have Dean's innate badassery, then put a demon inside and this was going to be nearly impossible.

Sam watched as the gun was knocked from his hands, flying across the room.

Quickly ducking under a punch, Sam tried to tackle his fake brother and punch him in the face. He wasn't as strong as Dean, but he was fairly fast, despite how rusty his fighting skills were.

"Wake me up!" He yelled, aiming another punch, then poking his face repeatedly, trying to get his eye, but constantly missing. "You hear me?! We're waking up, then my real brother is going to shoot you in the face! And my girlfriend is dead and you pressured me into a strip club and you gave me fake money and you scared me that my brother was dying and I hate you!"

He wrestled with the demon, blowing off some pent up anger while trying to jam his thumb in the demon's eye.

Sam's tackle connected, for Dean was trying to take him down as well, which led both boys into a rowdy roll, fists flying every which way. Instead of blocking the punches and prods, the fake Dean focused on trying to get his hands around Sam's throat, laughing cruelly at the younger's rage.

"I already know how you feel, Sammy boy, but let me tell you, that dominatrix of yours probably died of shame at her wet-pussy of a boyfriend. And once I'm done with you, I'll go after your brother, take him apart like that demon picked the bones of your family. It hurt, didn't it, Sammy? Being a freak, a hunter child, losing the people you love one by one." One hand fisted in Sam's hair as the fake Dean began trying to box his ears, wanting to disorient him long enough to take what he wanted.

"Never ever good enough, not like Dean, constantly having to save your sorry ass. That's how I know you're mine, because he can't save you here, and you're a hopeless case."

"She wasn't ashamed of me! That's just how she liked it, okay?!" Sam wrestled back, trying to pry the demon's hands off. "And I won't let you hurt my big brother."

Using his supior hieght to his advantage, he flipped the demon over and jammed a knee into his back while the other leg kept his balance.

"Not... good enough? Not Good Enough?! Yeah, well I didn't see you tricking him into coming down here and saying gay stuff about belonging to you. I'm obviously more than good enough!" He wasn't quite sure what he was ranting about, but it felt valid. Grabbing the demon's head, he tried to ram it into one of the crates. "I'm. Not. Gay!"

When Sam successfully rammed Dean's head into the box, he found luck in that Dean's eye smashed into the corner of it, immediately ending the dream-like state and ripping Sam and Ophelia into the conscious world. The faint scent of smoke tinged the air, and on the floor between the beds was a demon summoning circle, an open book sat before it. Dean was halfway sprawled onto Sam's bed, staring at him with intent black eyes until it looked like he was coming to, for that was when Dean most likely told Callas to fuck herself mentally and shoved her out of the way in order to check on his brother.

"Sammy? You okay? All in one piece?"

An unfamiliar duffel bag sat in the corner of the room, most likely Bobby's, and the older man walked into the room, coffee cups in-hand and a disgruntled frown on his face. When he saw that everyone was awake and alive, however, he perked up, walking over and pressing a cup into Sam and Dean's hands before handing the third one off to Ophelia, a curious scrunch to his eyes.

"So your that little girl John helped out, eh? How you feelin'?"

Sam held his head slightly, a little dizzy from all that's gone on. He looked at his brother with his still black eyes. Apparently that wasn't just part of the dream.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What about you?" He sat up and stared at his brother. "The demon's still in there? Man, you must have really been worried to let that happen. Thanks for coming for me..."

He tried to hold back a laugh, becuase he could tell how much the demon must be annoying him.

"Letting a girl demon stay there for so long, you might have to marry her, Dean. She's probably damaged goods by now with everything she's seen in there." He chuckled before noticing Ophelia on the other bed. "What exactly caused this to happen?"

Ophelia slowly woke up. But because her eyesight was gone, she couldn't instantly tell where she was.

"S-Stay back..." She whispered, curling up in the corner of the bed away from them. Reaching around, she found a lamp and quickly grabbed it. "Don't make me throw this! Did you say John?! Did you attack him too?! ...I won't let you get away with this..."

"Ophelia, it's alright. It was just a dream. I don't know what happened, but that's bobby. He's a friend of our dad's." Sam frowned, wondering what happened to her and if it was his fault. This was going to call for some brooding later.

"...a dream..." Ophelia repeated, looking confused for a minute. Then she slowly sat the lamp back down and nodded. "S-Sorry... yes, John found me a home with an elderly retired hunter. I'm alright now, thank you."

She idly reached down and touched her calves, sighing in relief to feel that it had indeed been a really horrible dream.

"John mentioned you the last time I saw him. He warned me to never play poker with you becuase you cheat." She smiled, wondering how John thought she would be able to play poker in the first place. "And... is there a reason Dean is possesed by a demon right now?"

"She won't be for long," Dean grouched, tone laced with warning. It sounded like he was ready to be trigger happy. "And I always save your ass in the end, Sammy." That was Dean for, 'Of course I was worried, you little shit, you're my little brother and I love you. Now get this black-eyed bitch out of me.' He sent a dull glare Sam's way at the teasing, but seemed to lighten up slightly at a silent thought. "I dunno, Sammy, you're the one she was hitting on earlier. She probably just wanted me to get to you, have your hell spawn babies. Or get you pregnant, seeing as how I'm a stud and you're a giant pussy."

"Glad to see you are gettin' on like always," Bobby sighed, attention shifting back to Ophelia as she retreated to the corner of her bed, brandishing the nearby lamp like a deadly weapon. At first, he seemed surprised by her fear, but his face soon softened into understanding. "M'not an enemy, like Sam said. John an' I go back, but our history was good. He's just a sore loser, always has been." Chuckling throatily, Bobby adjusted his cap before toeing a candle on the floor, tilting his head to eye Dean, who didn't sport black eyes, but certainly wasn't Dean, judging by the predatory smirk he was giving Sam.

"Dean needed my help getting into Sammy's head without falling prey to his own dream world. You two were being played by a dream demon. Ever hear the rumors about dying in reality if you did so in your sleep? That's where it comes from. They're huge pains, since you can't trap them in the dream, and if you're in the dream, you can't get out without killing it or dying, yourself. I can see why it chose Sam as its dreamer, though; he would be the least likely to kill it, and the dreamer is the only one who can once it's nested in your head; then there's the pain of breaking the seal in its eye, yadda yadda. Point is, I think you two owe me for this one. It's not everyday a demon will help a human without asking for big sacrifices in return. All I want is to present my case. Ah-ah-ah, Dean, a deal is a deal."

"Then what's your case?" Bobby questioned, hands at his sides, at the ready. One never knew when a demon would turn on you, after all.

"The demon you two are after, I've met him. Yellow eyes, driving your father insane looking for an end to him, probably working on doing the same for you, Sam." Looking at him meaningfully, the demon stroked some hair from Sam's face, which was awkward since she was using Dean. "And I know I'm a demon, just like he is, but I'm sick and tired of hell. You can't imagine how unspeakably awful it is down there, so I won't bother trying to explain, but I know that I can help you all. I need a host to do so, but I know none of you would be prim and peachy with me taking over someone's life. But oh, there would be benefits for you, I promise that. I may not be as strong as he is, but I'm resourceful, and one less demon out for your blood is always good, right? Like we could trust you..." The end of the speech was growled out low, Dean's obvious disapproval.

"We can't trust a demon, Sammy, so hurry up and get her out of me."

"Yeah, well I would have gotten it eventually, even without your help." Sam smiled, which meant 'thanks big brother, you're the best.' He stretched, relaxing a bit now that Dean seemed to be okay. Well, as okay as he could be while sharing a body with a demon.

The relaxing stopped though, as /Dean touched his face gently. It was all Sam could do, not to throw himself off the bed and possibly out the window. He settled for a shudder and a grimace. Part of him suddenly remembered Jess.

"Could you... not do that when you're... like that?" He tilted his head away as the demon continued. "Look, I'm really thankful for all you did today, but you have to understand how suspicious this sounds. No demon ever helps without getting something greater in return. Besides, this whole thing with Dean is funny at the moment, but I'm obviously going to have to ask you to leave him, once it gets old."

It wasn't old yet.

"Bobby, you don't know any way to bind a demon to their word, do you? Then all we would have to do is find a vessel of some sort... but possession isn't really an option..." Sam seemed to be seriously thinking it over.

"Sam," Ophelia frowned, starting to hear what all happened. "As much as I really really really really really hate to admit it. I have to agree with Dean. There's never been a demon that could be trusted. Sure, she sounds nice, and so does the deal, but there has to be a catch. It's not their nature."

"B-But... you guys, it seems legit..." Sam pouted.

"I didn't expect you to trust me. It's surprising that you sat quiet to listen, actually. And you people have come up with several ways to lock demons to this and that; otherwise, I imagine your race would have fizzled out by now. Dean spiced up his summoning circle with binding lines, to ensure that I didn't back-stab him in the dream. Clever boy, just like his father." That didn't mean there weren't loopholes, though, but it was all about the way you worded things. Lawyers were a close human comparison to demons when it came to exploiting them.

"That may be true, but keeping a demon bound until its harmless is damn near impossible. More trouble than it's worth, if you ask me." Bobby crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, clearly in agreement with the rest.

"There's always a catch," Callas assured, watching Ophelia carefully. "I'm very powerful, you see, and I know my way around Hell. The catch is really more of an option. You can deal with me willingly, or you can enjoy the thought of having me unreigned, tracking you like a bloodhound. My mind is made up, and no spell or pentacle you can weave is going to stop me; no powders will throw me off forever. Send me back to Hell, but I'll climb back out." After all, they didn't have the equipment to kill her, nor did they know about it, yet.

"I don't think you're in the position to be making threats..." Dean murmured icily, though he was answered without words. Instead, the air around him crackled with electricity, making his hair stand on end for one tense moment before trickling away into nothing.

Ophelia narrowed her eyes, sensing the demon looking in her direction.

"Don't do it Sam. If we send her to hell, it'll at least buy us time to think of something more permanent." She whispered, not wanting anything to do with demon after what she had just dreamed.

"I guess so," Sam frowned, but then the demon decided to put on a little show. Even he could tell that one false move could piss the demon off and kill Dean in the processes. "Okay! okay... we'll let you stick around. But, you can't stay in Dean's body."

If he could just get her out of his brother, then she won't hold so much power over them. As she is now, she controls too much badassery in his body.

"Then who would you rather I house, hm? Dean has the best physical body to offer me out of all of you, though I suppose it doesn't matter much with my own demonic attributes. The only one with equal leverage would be yourself, Sammy. You're too worried about Dean to force me out, and I know he would rather die than let anything happen to his baby brother. You two are just adorable, really." Callas knew that families were prone to self-sacrifice and vengeance when they were as tight-knit as this one; after all, she had torn plenty apart in her days, be it by storm or a personal visit.

"Don't you let her do it, Sammy. I don't care if you all have to wrestle me into a demon trap before you can exorcise her, but you aren't letting her in, understand?" He, at least, could shove her down here and there, but he didn't know if Sam had the same will power. "Is there a symbol in that book down there that can suppress demons?" Unfortunately, it was really hard to be sneaky about trapping a demon when said demon was inside of you.

"I'll fry the book before you can use it, Dean. Now, no one here wants to fight, right? I know I don't. It would defeat the purpose of helping you if I exerted myself too much. At any rate, I'm bored with playing your games, so I don't see why I shouldn't just lock myself up in ol' Dean here and play body snatcher." Rising from the bed, Callas picked up Bobby's demon text and began to walk towards the door.

Bobby gripped his coffee cup in a tight grip, meeting Sam's eyes before flickering his gaze to Dean's back. All of their coffee was laced with holy water.

"I can handle a woman, Dean. Just becuase I've never been able to before, doesn't' mean I'm not capable." Sam replied, rolling his eyes which meant 'thanks Dean, for protecting me from scary demon ladies. I'll rescue you, don't worry.'

He frowned as Callas/Dean got up and started to walk for the door. Luckily, it seemed Bobby was prepared. Grabbing his own cup of coffee, he looked at his brother's back and nodded.

Within a second, the back of Dean's neck, and what seeped through the jacket, would start to smoke.

"Ophelia," Sam looked at the girl. She was creepy, but maybe that was a benefit, because knowing her, she probably had what they needed already memorized.

"Got it." Taking a deep breath, Ophelia began to recite the exorcism prayer. When you live alone in a creepy old house, you tend you have a lot of free time. "Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica, in nomine et virtute Domini Nostri Jesu Christi..."

She continued the prayer all the way until the end, then carefully listened to see if it had the desired effect. If so, Dean owed her twice. At this rate, he'll have to give her a kidney someday.

"Dean?" Sam called out, looking worried. "Is it... you?"

"So it's option two, eh?" Callas hissed in pain as the holy water scalded her, electricity snapping along the ceiling in thin, wire-like tendrils from Dean's body to the lights in the room, which soon died. Everyone would be able to feel the thick static in the air, though the charge didn't raise in intensity towards them, instead keeping strictly around the eldest Winchester as he knelt beneath the exorcism chant, snarling as his fingers dug grooves into the floor with effortless flexes, as if in blind pattern. Callas' smoky essence began to leak from between Dean's lips, and by the end of it, she was furling out in plumes, wailing winds whipping throughout the room before she was gone, and Dean was still upon the floor.

"Fuck..." he panted, picking himself up from the floor and pressing a hand to his chest, eyes fixated on the floor. A series of incomprehensible runes that wove into the shape of a hook had been carved into the floorboards, and Dean's fingernails were bleeding from the work, faint traces of it set within the grooves and grain. "That was some hot coffee. We need to get a move on, before she comes back."

"Do you have everything you'll need to fend her off? I have a feeling it's only going to get worse from here. Demons are vindictive things." Bobby came to Dean's side and examined the hook on the floor, picking up his book and thumbing through it with one hand while he flicked a few drops of holy coffee onto Dean's hand, just to make sure. He was clean, save for the fact that he now smelled like coffee.

"We have everything you brought; I don't know how we could be more prepared, unless you have a way to kill them." Recollecting himself, Dean peeled off his jacket and shirt, tossing them into his bag before fishing out a shirt that was more or less clean and pulling it over his head, the skin over his heart cherry-red and raw. He moved too quickly to tell, but the rash-like area was in the shape of a rune-ridden hook. "I hate having to turn tail and run every time they rear their ugly heads. We need a battle plan." His griping was low and agitated as Bobby slowly shook his head, tossing the demon book to Sam.

"'Fraid not, Dean. You can trap, bind, and banish demons to Hell and high water, but good luck killing them. Read up on that, Sam; it's going to be vital if you're out making enemies."

"Or demon girlfriends. I swear, he knows how to pick 'em..." Making sure he was well-armed, but not conspicuously so, Dean deemed himself presentable to the hunting world and grabbed their bags, lugging them out to the Impala.

"You boys keep in touch. I've got a little diggin' myself to do, so I'll have to go, for now. And for God's sake, boys, call me sooner if you're knee-deep in shit. Don't let 'em push you around, girly. Was good seein' you." Bobby gave Ophelia's shoulder a squeeze on his way out, climbing into a beaten, rusty-red pickup that looked like it had seen the birth of Christ. Soon, he was off on the road, surprisingly speedy for an old man in an even older truck. Dean watched him go with tense shoulders, shutting the door to the backseat before hopping behind the wheel.

"Hurry up, ladies!"

"Why do I have to be the one to read up? Are you implying it's the only thing I'm good at?" Sam pouted all the way to the car, but was hugging his books and computer anyways, so Bobby had a point.

Ophelia smiled up at Bobby. She liked him. He wasn't instantly repulsed by her eyes, and hunters like that were few are far between. John, Bobby and her adoptive grandmother for the most part. Bobby reminded her a lot of the old woman in fact. Sophie was spunky for her age, always carrying around at least one loaded pistol in her sagging bra and a bottle of holy water and a silver knife in her house coat. Don't even ask what she keeps in her huge Sunday hats.

"Thank you, Mr. Bobby. I'll try." She whispered sweetly as he walked away, becuase you respect you elders. As soon as he was gone, she turned around and smacked both the brothers upside the head. Well she was aiming for their heads, but ended up whacking their shoulders.

"Don't you ever leave me in that kind of situation again, okay? Now start driving, we're going to go see my grandmother. She'll know what to do." She got in the backseat as daintily as a blind girl could, then gave them the directions.