DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to their respective creators.
ARCHIVE: No
The following short story is based on characters
created for the television series
SUPERNATURAL & DARK ANGEL, and is set in an indeterminate time frame. -- author's note
The Devil You Know - Conclusion
By Valjean
*************************************
“I’m not a medium,” Sam said quietly.
“I know,” Dean agreed. “But you’re all we have.”
“I don’t talk to dead people, Dean.”
“No, you just see ‘em all the time. It’s not a stretch, Sam.”
Sam sighed heavily and closed his eyes.
“And I’m sorry about the headache this is gonna give you,” Dean said, remembering at the last minute how painful this kind of thing was for his brother. “But we’re kind of backed into a corner here, and I don’t have a better plan.”
“Do you have a picture of Ben?” Sam asked.
“Just look at my face,” Dean said. “And don’t forget, he was your brother too.
Max made certain the room door was locked, then she turned off the lights, the only illumination now coming from the small red diodes on the ever-watchful security camera mounted overhead.
“Turn it off,” Sam said sternly, looking at the camera lens.
A moment later the light turned to yellow and he nodded, satisfied. Then they took their places around a small round table set in the middle of the room.
“We hold hands,” Sam said, not sounding too sure of himself. He looked over at Dean. “At least that’s the way they do it on television.”
Awkwardly, the three took hold of each others’ hands, Dean giving Max’s an extra squeeze. Sam closed his eyes. “Help me out here, bro,” he said quietly. “Think of your twin ... you, too, Max. You knew him for real.”
Max nodded, swallowed hard, and furrowed her brow, thinking long and deeply about her dead Manticore sibling.
All Dean could do was picture the photographs he’d been shown of his errant twin ... pictures as they’d flashed on a propaganda screen during reindoctrination as he’d been berated about his faulty genetics.
They sat that way for a good fifteen minutes ... until Dean began to fidget. Maybe Ben’s soul had completely moved on? Maybe he wasn’t even within “hearing” distance? Or -- as was most likely -- maybe he just didn’t give a shit about his family’s needs?
“I need to try something different,” Sam finally said. He turned to Dean. “Give me both of your hands.”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
Dean complied, clasping fingers with his brother.
“Close your eyes,” Sam commanded. “And think about nothing.”
Dean nodded, and shut his eyes while Max watched in the dimness, only her cat vision letting her see the way her Alec was trembling.
Dean felt funny ... cold ... shaky ... like he was coming down with something. It was almost as if his body temperature has dropped a few degrees. His teeth were starting to chatter as Sam’s grip on his hands tightened.
“He’s part of you, Dean,” Sam said. “Half of you ... the same right down to his chromosomes. There has to be part of Ben left in you, just like part of you were in him that day he died. There has to still be a connection.”
“Just because we once shared the same embryonic cell doesn’t mean we shared the same soul, Sam,” Dean remarked, needing to say that out loud for some reason.
“Didn’t you?” Sam said, his grip tightening even more. “Don’t you? Identical twins ... artificially created or not ... were once the same being.”
“Stop it, Sam!” Dean yelled, letting go and standing up, nearly turning the table over. “Even if we could, I don’t want that sonofabitch crawlin’ around inside my head!” He turned to Max. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t do this. I don’t want him to come back. He scares the shit outta me, and I’m sorry I ever came up with this dumb ass idea.”
“Okay,” Max said easily, the voice of reason. “We stop. We think of something else. Ben was really ... disturbed. I’m thinking, too, that we ought to leave him in peace.”
“Too late,” Sam said.
Dean turned to him, a scowl marring his handsome features. “Whatdaya mean?”
“It’s too late to leave me in peace.”
Max hit the light switch. In the blinding glow, Sam stood there looking just the same as before -- except he wasn’t. Dean instantly noted that he wasn’t holding himself quite like he usually did ... the odd tilt to his head ... the sparkle in his eyes that spoke of cold curiosity rather than the warmth and worry that usually emanated from Sam’s soul.
“Oh, please tell me you didn’t do this, Sam?” Dean murmured.
Max’s eyes were wide and round as she stared at Dean’s tall brother. “Ben?” she asked, the word only a whisper.
The being occupying Sam’s body smiled cockily, in a very un-Sam-like way.
“Where’s Sam?” Dean demanded. “Where’s my brother?”
“Which brother?” Ben asked. He looked down at the long fingers of the body he was occupying. “One of them’s right here. As for the other ...” He glanced up toward the ceiling and Dean’s eyes fearfully followed. “Let’s just say he’s vacated the premises.”
“Give him back!” Dean snarled. “Get the hell back to hell, Ben, and give me back Sam!”
Green eyes looked hurt. “Hey,” Ben said. “You guys were the ones who summoned me. And here I am. Now you want me to go away again?”
“You weren’t supposed to snatch someone’s body!” Dean exclaimed. “For God’s sakes ...!”
“Not God’s,” Ben said, totally serious.
The chill was back in Dean’s bones, and he felt slightly ill on his stomach. “Satan’s sake then,” he amended.
“That’s more like it,” Ben said quietly.
“Where’s Sam?” Dean demanded again.
“Gone,” Ben replied. “He played with something he shouldn’t have and he got,” the smile again, “burned.”
“And we get him back how?” Dean said.
Ben just looked at him.
“Come on! I’ve dealt with your kind enough to know there’s always a loop hole ... something you want ... a bargaining point.”
“Ben,” Max said, speaking for the first time. “We don’t mean you any harm. We just wanted your help. But we didn’t think you’d--”
“Need a human body to manifest in?” Ben said. He tilted his head. “By the way, Max. Logan says ‘hi,’ and he’d like to thank you for the wonderful way you treated him while he was alive. Thanks to you, he now gets to enjoy an eternity of hellfire and damnation.”
“Like you?” Dean said. “We make our own choices on this Earth, Ben. You made yours. Logan made his. Don’t blame us for your bad decisions. Now, tell me how to get Sam back or I swear, I’ll banish your ass so fast your ghost head’s gonna spin.”
“Banish me, and you’ll never get baby brother back,” Ben said. “And I do kind of like this body.” He looked down at himself. “Even if it is a bit on the tall side.” He eyed Dean. “And what’s the difference really, 494? You’ve still got a brother, just not quite the one you started out with this morning.”
“How then?” Dean said. “What do you want?”
Ben sighed in a way that sounded odd coming from Sam’s lips. “I want to stay,” he said. “I want a second chance at living the life I was cheated of.” He narrowed his eyes and regarded Dean. “Ideally, it should have been your body I came back in,” he said. “Not this gangly one.” He boldly stared at Dean, his gaze raking him a way that made 494’s cheeks flush. “I remember what it was like,” he said quietly. “What I had and what I could do with it.” He turned to look at Max then, smirking, and Dean almost jumped him.
“But unfortunately, baby brother was the one open to my return,” he continued, “and you know what they say. ‘Beggars can’t be choosers’.”
“Sam back. You gone.” Dean said, his voice low and threatening. “And in case you haven’t noticed, brother, I’m perfectly capable of sending you straight back to Hell. You picked the wrong dude to mess with.”
“If you’re so well versed in the ways of the afterlife,” Ben said, “then you know full well what has to be done to send me away and get Sam back.”
Dean bit his lip, thinking fast. But it was Max who answered.
“The mission,” she said, her voice beyond strained. “We summoned here for a reason, and you can’t go back until you complete the mission.”
Ben touched fingertip to the end of his nose.
“And why would he complete the mission if it means he’ll go back to burning in Hell?” Dean asked of no one in particular.
“Because it’s the rule,” Max said. “Right? Didn’t you say there were rules?”
For the first time those cool green eyes that didn’t look like Sam at all any more appeared troubled.
And Dean got it. “We can command you,” he said quickly. “We summoned you, and now you’ve got to do what we say. And when the mission’s over, your purpose is too, so you go back whether you want to or not.”
Ben moved toward the room door.
“Stop!” Dean snapped.
His hand strained to touch the door knob, but it was as if an invisible force was holding Ben back. Finally, he dropped fingers to his side and turned around with murder in his eyes. “This isn’t fair,” he grated out.
“Life rarely is,” Dean shot back. “Or death either it appears.”
“I hate you, you know that,” Ben spat.
“Me as well?” Max said quietly.
He looked at her then, and for the first time Dean saw a softening in those cold, cynical green eyes. “Never,” he said simply. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t still like to fuck you.”
Dean’s fist shot out almost of its own volition, connecting with his brother’s cheekbone. But then he got hold of himself ... backed down ... not wanting to damage Sam’s body.
However, Ben had no such compunction. Straightening slowly, hand on his bruised cheek, he never took his eyes off of Dean. Then he slowly stretched out an arm.
Dean had been tossed around by poltergeists plenty of times before in his life. He knew what it felt like, the breathlessness, the feeling of a weight on his chest pinning him to the wall. He began to choke.
“Ben!” Max shouted. “Let him go! That’s an order, soldier!”
With an angry hiss, Ben released Dean, leaving his brother rubbing a bruised throat.
“Okay,” Dean said when he could speak again. “So we’ve got powers at our disposal. That’s gonna make the job a whole lot easier.”
“What job?” Ben asked, sulking now, hands jammed in the pockets of Sam’s jeans. “What’s my mission?”
“You remember Lydecker?” Max said.
A grin lit up Ben’s face again. “Oh please,” he said. “Please tell me my mission is to assassinate that piece of shit.”
“Not quite,” Dean said. He looked at Max, seeking help here. Ben wasn’t going to like it.
“Actually,” Max said carefully, “the mission is for Lydecker. Cliff Notes version, I’m dying, Lydecker has the cure, and in payment Alec and I agreed to take out a rival of his, the man who’s running a Manticore counterpart.”
“Alec?” Ben said, obviously confused.
“494,” Max clarified.
“Real name’s ‘Dean’,” Dean said. “Alec’s a ... an alias, sort of a nickname.”
“Who’s the target then?” Ben asked, slipping into soldier mode in spite of himself, obviously a bit intrigued, maybe even enthused, to have a purpose in life again.
“A dude name of ‘Davis Stendahl’,” Dean said. “His compound is way too heavily guarded for Max and me to get in.”
“So you came up with the brilliant idea of summoning a spirit to do your dirty work for you?” Ben laughed. He looked from one to the other. “You two are lovers’ aren’t you?”
“Yes,” Dean said levelly. “We’ve got a son together.”
Ben flinched again at that, the hunger in his eyes ... the longing ... bothering Dean more than he cared to admit. It was a life that could very easily have been 493’s instead of 494’s but for the choice of an in-vitro scientist 27 odd years ago.
Max, too, was sympathetic. “His name is--”
“Don’t!” Dean interrupted her. “Knowing someone’s name gives power over that person.”
“Don’t worry,” Ben said quietly. “I don’t want to hurt your son, Max. Fuck you, yes. But not hurt you or your child.”
“If we give you the lowdown on Stendahl,” Dean said, changing the subject, “can you take him out? The supernatural way I mean?”
“I’m limited in this corporeal form,” Ben said, looking down at Sam’s hands. But it’s the only way I can stay on this plain of existence.”
“You’ve got telekinesis,” Dean pointed out.
“Sam’s power, not mine.”
“Oh.” Dean blinked at that, the thought not having occurred to him. He turned to Max. “So, what good is he to us? I’m not gonna have Sammy’s body shot full of holes. We’re no better off than we were before.”
“Yes, we are,” Max said. “Ben obviously knows how to use Sam’s powers better than Sam did ... does ... himself. Has more control over them. It’ll give us a significant edge.”
Dean was looking troubled. “What else can you do?” he asked. “I mean what else can Sam do?”
“Telepathy,” Ben said immediately. “And he’s prescient ... can see the future.” He regarded the two X5s. “Makes up in a way for me being stuck in a mere X6 body.”
“And our future is?” Dean prompted, needing to know the worst up front.
“Death,” Ben said simply. “And no, I’m not gonna elaborate.”
“Well, duh,” Dean said. “But before that blessed event happens to my sorry ass, can we at least get this mission over with and Sam back in his body? You said you were telepathic. How strong? What’s your range?”
“Almost unlimited.”
Dean looked at Max, his eyes lighting up. “If we show you a picture of Stendahl could you--?”
“No,” Ben said. “A picture won’t do it. I need to be looking at him live.”
“Which means we’ve still got to get you into his compound,” Max said tiredly, her shoulders slumping again.
“Could you kill him with your mind?” Dean asked. “If you were looking at him in person?”
“Yes. Or rather Sam could.”
Dean didn’t like the sound of that either, but he filed it away for future worry. “In that case,” he said, “I’ve got an idea. Max, we need to get hold of Dix. Oh, and we’re gonna need ‘Deck’s help too.”
*****
Donald Lydecker’s New Manticore programmers had never been able to tap into Davis Stendahl’s security system -- not that they hadn’t tried. However, he’d never before had the help of renegade transhuman technicians before.
“We sure could use Logan for this,” Dix commented as he sat uneasily in front of the vast array of computer banks that made up three walls of New Manticore’s security station. Luke looked over at him, silently agreeing.
“Just ... do the best you can,” Max said, her eyes looking infinitely tired, the dark circles beneath them caused by more than the medication she was on.
Dean patted the small monocled mutant on the shoulder. “What she said,” he repeated. “All we can do is try.”
Behind them “Sam” watched silently, that amused smirk still on his face even as his eyes tracked Lydecker, who had no idea how much the insane ghost of one of his former kids wanted to kill him. He just thought it was Sam.
It took the better part of a day, but around midnight Luke gave a triumphant shout. “Got it!” he crowed. “And of all things from a DirecTV satellite. The bastard’s bouncing his signal off a Hallmark channel.”
Dean was immediately at his side, staring at the screen. “Can you find Stendahl himself?” he asked as camera views rapidly switched in front of them, showing what was apparently the interior of the major’s base.
“There,” Dix said, his own grin triumphant as he stopped and zeroed in on a man who’s mere image still gave Dean the chills.
Ben got up from where he’d been sitting on a stool in the corner and strolled over, looking curiously at the screen. “That him?” he asked. “The Devil himself?”
“Only you’d know that, bro,” Dean said under his breath. “But yeah, that’s Davis Stendahl, in the flesh.” He looked back at him. “Can you do it? Can you take him out from here with this image? It’s a live feed.”
Ben’s brow crinkled, the look kind of odd on Sam’s face, as he peered inward, testing the limits of his host’s powers. Then his eyes flicked down to meet Dean’s. “If I do, what’s in it for me?”
“Release,” Dean tried. “Maybe even redemption. Oh, and in case I didn’t make myself clear, it’s an order.”
Ben seemed to listen to something for a moment, then reluctantly nodded. “Not redemption,” he murmured. “Never redemption.” Again, he looked at Dean. “But then I was resigned to that a long time ago. No forgiveness for the truly wicked. Remember that, brother.” Then he gripped the back of the console chair as Dix moved out of the way.
“Wait!” Dean said. “If this works ... will I get Sam back?”
Ben shrugged. “Not my department. I just came when called and took up residence in the most hospitable host. Where Sam went ... Let’s just hope the boy has a good sense of direction and a desire to even come back.”
“He does,” Dean said firmly, unable to think anything else.
“He’s not a dog, you know,” Ben added. “He might not come when you call ... not like I did.”
“I’ll worry about that later,” Dean said. “Just ... get on with it.”
“Kill Stendahl?” Ben said, apparently needing to be perfectly clear.
“Kill Stendahl,” Dean ordered with one last look at Max.
Ben concentrated a moment more on the picture of the major doing paperwork at his desk, and closed his eyes. Several seconds passed. Dean didn’t know what he expected -- a flash of lightening maybe? Fire and brimstone? But it wasn’t anything nearly so dramatic. David Stendahl simply put a hand to his temple, shook his head, then slumped forward at his desk.
“Done,” Ben said. He pinned Dean with his eyes. “And done. Goodbye, brother.” His gaze rose to Max. “And sister. See you both in Hell.”
And then it was Sam’s body slumping to the floor, Dean barely catching him before he hit his head.
*****
Sam honestly and truly didn’t want to answer when he heard his brother’s voice calling him. He was perfectly happy where he was ... at peace in a bright happy place that might not have been Heaven, but sure came close.
It was Jessica and his mother who told him he had to go back ... that his work on the Earthly plain wasn’t finished ... that if he didn’t rescue him his brother, Dean, was going to be condemned to the fires of Hell.
Sam thought about Dean then -- and realized why he hadn’t quite been in Heaven. Someone had been missing ...
All he had to do was open his eyes -- and he was back, on Earth, in his body, at New Manticore, and on the floor with his body feeling like he’d been run over by a bus. “What happened?” he asked shakily.
Dean sobbed with relief and scooped him up in a huge hug. “Sammy?” he said. “You all right?”
“Probably not,” Sam said dryly. “All right. What dumb ass thing did I do for you this time?”
“Got yourself possessed,” Max answered, squatting on the floor beside the two brothers. “But it’s all right now. You’re back and everything’s done.”
Sam looked up at a monitor set above a bank of computers and saw soldiers rushing into a room where a man lay slumped over a desk. “I killed Stendahl?” he asked.
“No,” Dean said firmly. “You didn’t kill anyone. Ben did. But he used your ... your body to do it.”
“How?” Sam wondered, the memories of his mother and Jess fleeing as fast as a dream.
“With your mind,” Max said. She looked at him closely, sisterly concern in her eyes. “You’ve got powers, Sam. Powers you’re going to learn how to control. Ben just made use of them.”
“I can kill someone with a thought?” Sam said, incredulous, as Dean helped him to his feet.
“Apparently,” Dean said dryly. “So ... next time you’re pissed at me, be careful.”
Sam dusted himself off, tested his limbs, and decided he was relatively intact, at least body-wise. Then he took a deep breath, remembering what his mother had said to him about Dean. “Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “Killing you in a snit would be kind of counterproductive to the reason I came back.”
“Whatdaya mean?” Dean said, brows drawing down as he obviously didn’t like the sound of that.
“Never mind,” Sam said with a secret little smile.
THE END
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