Title: Lost and Found

Chapter: 40

Notes:  Special thank you to GemL for brainstorming with me! This has to be the hardest chapter I’ve ever written.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam could smell earth and straw, rain and sulfur, with an undercurrent of fresh paint and mold. He was sitting on the ground, arms raised above his head. He opened his eyes, one eye not wanting to open all the way. That dick of a police officer must have beaten on him after he’d passed out. His vision wavered, hazy images struggling to come into focus. He was in a barn…maybe. That ground beneath him felt like dirt and not wood or stone and he stared at it until it came into focus. Dirt and definitely a barn. Straight ahead of him was a table-like structure. To the right and left of it were stairs leading up to a loft that ringed the barn and was filled with hay bales. The entire upper level was bursting with hay bales that looked like they could fall at any second. His head was pounding and pain lanced through his wrists when he tried to move them, the grogginess that encased him easing in tiny degrees.

“What the hell happened,” he tried to say, the words coming out slurred together.

“Sshhh, Sam. Don’t struggle, honey. Just relax. The spell will dissipate in a few seconds and you’ll be fine, I promise. It’s just little sleep spell, that’s all. I had to do it to transport you all here safely.”

A woman crouched beside him and for a few confused blinks, he thought it was Gwen, but then his vision finally returned to normal and it registered that she was much older than Gwen. Her hair was cut in a similar style and she looked to be slim and trim. This was what Gwen was going to look like when she was…what?…in her mid-fifties? Still attractive.

She touched his wrists, glance flicking above his head to them. “I have to tighten this a little more, okay? Don’t want you slipping free and destroying all of my hard work.”

“Mia,” he guessed in a croaking tone. His throat felt dry and scratchy.

Her smile was slow and delighted. “Oooh, you are a smart one! My girl has good taste. The smart ones are always best. Especially if they’re wrapped up in a nice appealing package.” She slid her hands down his arms, squeezing as though assessing his muscle tone. Mia let one hand drop from him, the other patting his cheek in an almost fond gesture. “Don’t struggle, or you’re liable to slit your wrists and neither of us want that, do we? Bailing wire is useful, but a little on the dangerous side.” She said it like there was a chance she wasn’t going to kill him later and touched the tip of her index finger to his nose in an almost playful gesture.

“Where’s Gwen? What have you done with her?” Bailing wire? No wonder his wrists hurt. It had to be the tiny points digging into his skin.

“Oh, she’s right over there beside the other one.” She gestured to his left. Gwen and Lisa were both at the next support post, also tied, only their bonds were rope. They had those weird sachets around their necks, their heads bowed, both unconscious.

Why did he get the bailing wire and not them? Perhaps Mia didn’t trust him not to pull an escape of some sort. Did she realize Gwen was just as capable? “What do you want?” It had an obvious answer but he asked it anyway, trying to remember what he knew about bailing wire. It was used to secure hay bales and…if he could get a kink in it it’d snap.

“Peace on earth, good will to men, silly.”

He stared at her and it was like seeing Gwen giving a little joke. Mia arched a brow and smiled. Her laugh was the tinkling laugh of a teenager, not a woman in her fifties.

“Kidding. I’m only kidding, Sam. Relax. You’re quite the touchy big boy, aren’t you? You’ll make a good body for him when he gets here.”

“I thought I was to be his body.” The voice was petulant and Sam noticed two more women standing across the barn from him on the other side of the strange table. Had they been there all along? He hadn’t noticed either of them. It was the youngest of the two that had spoken. “You promised me the honor.”

The table was an altar, he thought. Had to be. She’d need one to perform the sacrifice and free Molek.

Mia’s smile faded and she turned her head only slightly, waving a hand. He saw her lip curl. “He’ll choose. Both of you have pluses, Cate. He might like Sam’s size or he might like your ability to shape shift. We’ll see. The ball will be in his court when he arrives. We’ll be here to do his bidding, to serve him as well as we have while he was imprisoned.” She returned her attention to Sam, held up a knife, and applied it to his shirt, slicing along his chest and parting the fabric. “So….” Mia rested the point of her knife against his skin. “Should I flay this tattoo off now, or wait and see what he prefers?”

“Where’s your uniformed lackey? I’m sure he’d be happy to do it for you.”

“You mean Tim? I’m sure he would, but….” A smug expression slid into her eyes, one brow raising and her voice lowering. “He’s not here any longer.”

Not here as in not in this location or not here as in dead? It could be either. Part of him wanted the man to already be dead, but another part wanted to be the one to kill him, to cause him as much pain and suffering as possible because of the way he’d manhandled Gwen.

Mia removed the knife from his skin and leaned in close. “He’s permanently indisposed,” she whispered low in his ear.

“Good,” he spat.

“I agree.” Her expression was earnest as she sat back again. “You shouldn’t feel bad, you know. About being caught, I mean. It’s not a reflection on your skills. I’ve simply learned to expect hunters on these nights and Tim lived just down the street from Lisa. He was able to watch her from his house. It’s why you didn’t notice him and why I picked him to approach when I arrived. Well…. That and the fact that he was quite the piece of work. You already knew that though. I had him go with Cate, keep a watch on the outside for trouble and you obliged. Good boy.” She adjusted the fabric. “There. He can see it and decide what he wants to do. Perfect.” She waved the knife. “Have to go speak with daughter dearest now. You wait here.” Winking at him, Mia laughed at her own joke.

Great, Sam thought. Not only was Gwen’s mother a murderous witch with a shape shifter companion, she was clearly off her rocker as well.

He took another look around the barn, studying it, trying to find any way out of this. The wire dug into his wrists and he couldn’t reach the ends she’d twisted together. Mia was right. If he outright struggled, he was going to shred his wrists, but there was a tiny bit of give. Sam thought that he could get the wire to bend if he brought his hands together. He made an experimental movement, leaning his head back to look at his wrists.

There. A slight bend to the wire that hadn’t been there before. It was going to hurt to get it to the breaking point, but that pain would be nothing if Mia did what she planned. He couldn’t just sit here and let her kill Gwen and Lisa.

Where were Dean and Jo? And Ben? He had to assume that either Mia didn’t know about them or she didn’t think they were a danger to her plans. He wouldn’t allow himself to think that she’d killed them. Right now, that wasn’t an option.

The few windows he noticed were blacked out with paint and he turned to look behind him. The large door into the barn was half open. He could see trees swaying in wild arcs whenever lightning flashed. Thunder kept up an almost constant rumble and the scent of coming rain was heavy. The storm was almost upon them.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam’s face was battered. It was the first thing Gwen noticed when her vision focused. Officer Friendly had done a number on him and Gwen felt a bit less bad about her own sense of violation, wincing a little. Provided they got out of this, he was going to hurt for days and she was going to have nightmares about that pat-down.

She studied the room, noting that it was a rectangular structure, a barn, with the large door half open. It had stalls on either side, four support beams and a loft. She and Lisa were tied to one beam. Lisa was gagged. There was dirt and blood on her nightgown and a bruised, raw spot on her forehead that had dried blood around it. Her hair was tangled. Sam was tied to the post on her right. Gwen squinted. Was that wire about his wrists? Across from them, between the opposite two posts, was an altar. She could smell sawdust and wondered which of the women in the barn had built it. Or perhaps the officer had built it for them? At the far end of the barn, near the corner on the right, she thought there might be another door.

Only when she’d looked over the barn thoroughly did she let herself look at the woman waiting patiently next to her. Gwen turned her head, slowly looking up at her own features. Her chin trembled. Her birth mother. Mia Carys. Witch. “Mia.”

“Look. At. You.” The woman who was her birth mother smiled and knelt beside her. The smile and gentle caress to her face would have been touching had she not obviously been the villain here. “More beautiful and grown than I ever dreamed you’d be. Oh, Gwen….” Her hand dropped from Gwen’s face, the smile disappearing and her tone hardening. “I should have known Aaron’s little band of associates would take you in, but to be honest, it never occurred to me. They never seemed the type to take in orphans. I mean, the sort of messes they left behind, they were more likely to burn all bridges remaining than try to save any of them. But then, I suppose they did care for Aaron. Treated him like one of their own.”

“Aaron,” she asked carefully.

“Your father. Aaron Carys. Not his real last name, of course. Just the one he was using.” She tsked. “Poor Aaron. Even when his adored wifey-poo of three years was gutting him, he assumed I was possessed. Tried to exorcise a demon.” She laughed as though it was hilarious. “He spouted Latin right through his last breath. Mmmm.” Mia shook her head as though it was a fond memory. “Never occurred to him that I was sick of his whining, his annoying habits, and him period. Besides, he’d given me you and them and I was done with him.”

Gwen swallowed hard. All of her hopes and prayers weren’t being answered. Her birth mother was really this twisted woman, a witch who’d killed her father and many others. A monster. A part of her had suspected this all along. Dreaded this. She turned her head a bit more to look at Sam, to see how he was reacting. ‘I love you,’ he mouthed and Gwen bit her lower lip, returning her attention to Mia. Nausea did a slow spin in her gut, the taste of bile returning to the back of her throat. She thought back to Castiel’s warning and wanted to turn back time and heed it.

‘Don’t pursue it. You won’t like what you find.’

How true that was! She’d imagined her mother dying to save her or being out there in the world heartbroken because she’d lost her child. She’d hoped for that or something like it, prayed for everything but this outcome.

This was what Castiel had meant wasn’t it? This was what he’d known and attempted to warn her away from discovering.

Her mother was a witch, the very one trying to raise Molek, and Gwen was regretting not heeding the angel’s warning.

“Aaron, Aaron, Aaron…always going on about being special and how you were special. His special baby girl with a destiny. Blech.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, my little sacrificial lamb, he didn’t know how right he was. You’re special and all because of your birth date. Nothing more. And only to me and Molek. That’s your destiny.” She reached to one side and held up a book. “Do you recognize this?”

“It’s a hunter’s journal.” More specifically, it was one of Neal Campbell’s journals. The mark on the cover gave that away. Where had Mia gotten it?

“Very good. But it’s not just any hunter’s journal, it’s Neal’s journal and he was very good about keeping records and making observations. He was a master at it. Aaron once said he was the keeper of the family archives. Now, since Neal and Patty raised you, I assume you know how to read their shorthand. That’s the one thing I was never able to learn, one thing they guarded. Only family, he said. Not even Aaron knew Neal’s shorthand and what a puzzle it has been. I thought I was good at word puzzles and such, but I must admit, Neal’s code has me beat. Now,” she opened the book and held it up, “be a good girl and tell mother what Samuel was reading on this page the day I killed him.”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m curious. He refused to tell me even as he lay dying, something sappy about not adding another sin to compound the rest.” She shrugged. “And because I know many ways to hurt a man without killing him. Sam looks strong to me, but I bet I can have him begging me for mercy in seconds.”

“You don’t know my pain thresh hold,” Sam interjected. “I can take anything you dish out.”

He had the highest pain thresh hold Gwen had ever seen and would be able to withstand a lot. She didn’t want him to have to, though, not over something that might not even be important.

Mia ignored him. “You choose, darling. Read out loud or I test just how high Sam’s pain threshold really is.”

She met Sam’s gaze again. He shook his head. “Don’t do it, Gwen.”

“Do it,” Mia coaxed.

“Don’t read her anything,” Sam spat. Above his hand, his hands moved in the circle of the wire binding them, slow, methodical movements.

Mia pointed her knife at him. “You are a naughty boy, trying to influence her. Perhaps I should split your tongue to begin with. Or start with a spell, work your insides.”

She continued on in that vein and Gwen skimmed the pages, reading quickly, very aware that any second Mia could pull the book away and start in on Sam. This could be the last chance she had for real information in Neal’s own words.

‘Dear God, what have we done? We encouraged a good man, an ally, to find happiness and this is the result? A witch in our midst. A young, sweet girl that was anything but either. How do I tell Patty that the woman Aaron loved, the one who carried their child, and ate at our dinner table, is the same one responsible for the sacrificial attempts to release Molek from hell? How do I tell her that Mia tried to sacrifice Gwen? Her own blood. How could a parent do that?

I can’t give Gwen to someone else to raise, not knowing Mia is out there and will be looking for her. Can’t leave her with a civilian when by her birth she’s special. The sacrifice of a mother giving her child, it’s powerful on an evil level. If Mia finds Gwen? I won’t let that happen. We’ll have to raise her ourselves, prepare her to defend herself in case the day comes when Mia finds her.’

Everything was clear. The restrictions upon her, the training. Of course. They’d been terrified that Mia would find her and take her as a sacrifice before she could defend herself. She looked up at the woman. “It says you’re a skuzzy bitch who deserves the worst fires of hell.”

Rage gleamed in Mia’s eyes and she backhanded Gwen, a hard slap that split her lip and left the taste of blood in her mouth. “Didn’t Neal and Patty teach you to show respect to your elders?” She shut the book and tossed it aside. It landed at Sam’s feet.

“Only if they deserve respect.”

“I’m your mother.”

“Patricia was my mother. You’re just the woman who gave birth to me.” Gwen hurried on. She had to keep Mia talking, give Dean and Jo a chance to find them. The longer she kept Mia talking, the better the chance of being found. If there was one thing she’d learned, it was that the bad guys almost always loved talking about themselves and their plans. It made no difference if they were human monsters or supernatural ones. They all had that pride that made them want to talk to their victims. Mia didn’t appear to be any different, very chatty. “Why my father? Why not some other guy?”

Mia pursed her lips, eyes narrowing a moment before her expression smoothed out. “Okay. I suppose you deserve to learn something about your father.” She shifted position a little. “You should have seen him. Aaron was quite the young stud, like yours over there.” She indicated Sam with a wave of her hand. “Tall for the time, muscular. A real gentleman. Sensitive, you know. Big on destiny bullshit and very smart, almost freakishly so…except where his dick was concerned. That’s men for you, right?” She smiled. “They all have trouble with their fly. He was no exception.”

“Sam and I aren’t--”

“Uh-uh-uh.” She waggled a finger. “Don’t bother trying to lie to mother, dear. I see how you look at him and he at you. You’re involved.” She flicked a sidelong glance at him. “I don’t blame you. He’s very pretty. I bet he’s terrific in bed.” Her self-satisfied curl of a grin faded, a faraway light coming into her eyes. “It was nothing to make Aaron come to me. I didn’t even need spells. All I had to do was be sweet and kind, let him think I was innocent and pure.”

Sam snorted. “Some illusion you managed to project.”

She didn’t seem to hear him. “You see, he didn’t see much of that, not in his line of work. I had to study him for awhile before implementing my plan, figure him out. I made him fall in love with me and he got me closer to the Campbells, the thorn in my family’s side for a very long time. We’d lost them back in the Twenties, but they kept looking. They never stopped looking. I found them, though, when I was ready. I snuck in and boy, did I have plans for them! I was going to give them to Molek. He’d like that, you know. Feasting on a family of hunters.”

“They stopped you from raising him.” Sam shifted position.

“They did.” She acknowledged Sam’s point with a pensive nod. “They were very pesky. However, they missed three successive sacrifices. I had twelve years of good luck and now it’s up to sixteen and look.” She gestured between Gwen and Lisa. “I’ve got two former potential sacrifices to choose from.” That self-satisfied grin returned. “He’s going to be so pleased! Most of the Campbells are dead now, but he’ll wipe out the last of the bloodline within days. He’s like a bloodhound, Gwen. He can smell a bloodline, sniff it out. He’ll track down every last trace, including Sam over there and his brother -- unless he chooses one of them as his host. He might. Or he might kill them and any other person they and the Campbells ever considered family.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m not insane, Gwen dear. I’m goal oriented. I’m also one of the very last of Molek’s true followers. His last chance to leave hell. He’ll be grateful. No one else is certainly inclined to release him. This world has mostly forgotten him, save a few mentions in old books here and there, and he’s made too many enemies even in hell.”

“He’s not a god? He’s just a demon?”

“Does it really matter? Anything or one can be a god these days and he’s still very powerful.”

“How do you know who Sam and Dean are,” Gwen asked, trying to drag it out.

“Oh, I was quite persuasive at that warehouse base. The only one who gave me real trouble was the teenager. So of course I had to find out who it was she was texting.”

“You killed all of them.”

“It’s only fair considering how many of my family they killed over the years. Tit for tat. Eye for an eye.” Mia shifted position, hands removing the necklace that was around Lisa’s neck. Immediately, Lisa began to rouse, head turning. Mia wasn’t patient however and slapped her hard. “Wake up!”

Lisa’s eyes went wide with terror and she tried to scramble away, only succeeding in sweeping the straw about the floor with her bare feet.

“You’ve been more trouble than you’re worth.” Mia touched the tip of her knife to Lisa’s chin. “First, I almost got caught taking you from the hospital, then a hunter saved you. Snatched you right from the crib when I turned my back to prepare for the ritual. Then…then your family moved away and didn’t leave a forwarding address. Usually people are dumb and do. Not your family. They did a smart thing. I lost you. You were supposed to be the one to end the cycle then, but no, I had to start all over.” Drawing back, she slapped Lisa again, then gripped her jaw in what looked to be a painful grasp. “I had to start all over with my own child because she was born at the right time on the right day. I didn’t want to, you know. She was supposed to follow in my footsteps, take over my position when she was old enough and now I have no daughter to pass my legacy on to. But I had to do it. My faith in him demanded I give her to him. If it hadn’t been for you being rescued, I wouldn’t have had to offer her up.”

How long had the cycle been going on, Gwen wondered. Mia Carys wasn’t old enough to have begun the cycle.

“You’re going to be first. Your death to close the gate and keep him from being sucked back down.” She stood and moved to the altar, speaking in low tones to the two women there, who hurried to gather items for her and lay them out.

“We’ll get out of this,” Gwen whispered to Lisa, who squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. It was a hollow promise. What else could she say? ‘We’re probably toast’ wouldn’t reassure her, though it seemed the truth at present.

“You’re not going to get away with this, Mia,” Sam warned.

Mia glanced over her shoulder at him, her smile amused. “Honey, I’m mostly there already.” She finished whatever she was doing and turned, clapping her hands twice. “Okay then! Let’s get this party started!”

One of the women approached, sliding the necklaces back over Gwen and Lisa’s heads. Consciousness slid sharply away, returning quicker when she woke the next time. They were deeper in the building, lying side by side on that wooden construction, bound at the ankles and bound with their arms stretched above their heads. They were both gagged this time.

One woman stood slightly back from Mia and the other was near the door. Keeping an eye on Sam? She seemed to be watching him more than any other place in the barn.

“The first three sacrifices are flesh by fire.” As Mia continued, she circled the altar, sprinkling an herb from a bowl onto the floor. “The fourth is a bit of blood to open the door and then a death to slam it shut when he’s been freed. The next step after he’s taken possession of his host is a live body given to him to nourish him after his long hunger in hell. Gwen, you’ll have that honor. His first meal. The distinction of your birth should please him even more.”

Lisa’s eyes seemed to widen further and Gwen tugged at her bonds. Being eaten alive by a demon didn’t sound like anything near a good time. She twisted her wrists, trying to loosen the knots, rough rope scratching her skin.

“So which of my lambs do I bleed to open that gate? The sacrifice who’ll close it? Or the one who’ll be his first meal?” She pointed with her knife. “Eeney, meanie, miney,” the knife turned to Gwen, “Moe.”

Her heart beat fast and hard, the bonds digging into her flesh. A frantic glance at Sam showed him straining at the wire holding him, blood dripping along his skin.

“Gwen,” he yelled. “No! No!”

Mia whispered something low. The woman by the door fell to the ground, convulsing.

“Millicent!” The shape shifter, Cate, moved around the altar, hurrying to the woman. Millicent’s body shook with violent spasms, back arching. Frothy foam, colored red by blood, came from her mouth. She gasped for breath, hands clawing at her throat, nails digging into the flesh and bloody stripes appearing as she ripped into her own throat. With a last gurgle, her body relaxed, head rolling to one side, eyes dull and lifeless. The small bag on a chain around her neck broke open, revealing a black pudding substance that burst, spewing a mist into the air that smelled of sulfur.

A satisfied grin lingered on Mia’s lips. She spoke a few more words, but her grin disappeared as she watched the remaining woman. “You’re not wearing the token of favor I gave you, Cate.”

She scrambled back from Millicent’s body and stood. “If that’s what your favor brings I’m glad I left it off. Is Tim dead, too?”

“Awhile ago,” Mia admitted. “And I had something particularly spectacular planned for you.”

Relief at the admittance that Tim was already dead surged through Gwen, but didn’t last long. She twisted and bucked, working her wrists and ankles until the skin on her wrists felt raw. Gwen panted from those efforts to free herself. Beside her, Lisa was still and silent, her eyes squeezed shut. Out of sight, out of mind? Praying? Pretending she was anywhere but here?

With a cry, Cate charged forward.

Mia fought like a woman half her age, punching and kicking, slashing with her knife. Cate was no slouch at fighting either, staying out of reach of that knife. Maybe they’d kill each other and it’d be over.

The thought spurred Gwen on in her struggles as the two women wrestled and it felt as though the rope at her wrists slackened a fraction.

In a quick movement, Mia lashed her arm towards the shape shifter, slashing the woman’s throat. Blood splashed along her and the ground. “Goodbye, Cate.”

The shape shifter fell to the ground, her blood seeping into it.

Mia stood over the body, her chest heaving with breath, the hand with the knife trembling, the other curling into a fist over and over again. Her face was mottled with emotion, the light in her eyes gleeful.

This was a woman who enjoyed killing. Gwen could easily imagine her crouched over Aaron Carys, giggling with pleasure as she ripped open his chest and stomach. Samuel had died that way. Mia’s favorite method perhaps? Had she put a spell on Samuel to make him lie still while she killed him? Had he regretted the way everything had gone?

She hurried to the altar, grasping Gwen’s arm and slicing her knife along it, then grabbing Lisa’s arm and doing the same, muttering low. Gwen had expected her to collect blood from them, but she didn’t, her muttering increasing. Mia sprinkled another herb along the outer circle of the symbol.

With a slight shaking, a crack appeared in the earth. A black smoke whirled up from the crack like a tornado, hovering a moment over Lisa, then zipping to Gwen, stopping a breath from her. It tried to touch her, a tendril poking, and seemed to seethe above her. She could feel the evil looking down at her, sense that this demon was studying her, taking her mettle.

I’m protected, you bastard, she thought, very glad she’d bitten the bullet and gotten a discreet small protection tattoo not long after she’d left the Campbell compound. She’d gone to the tattoo artist Sam had recommended, a guy he and Dean had once done a favor for. She’d gotten a discount on the price.

It slid over to Lisa, snaked a tendril out and touched her. Her eyes opened, her screams audible through her gag. It went down her body, tapping, and Gwen had the uncomfortable idea that it was taunting Lisa, teasing her without any real intention of taking her over.

Suddenly, the demon turned and dove into a startled Mia, who staggered, then rolled her head on her neck. “Mmmm. So long since I was out.” Molek stepped close to Gwen. “Not nice, my dear girl, putting a protection symbol on your flesh. Not nice at all.” Her hand dragged the gag down, gripped Gwen’s jaw. “I haven’t killed a hunter in centuries. You’re going to be tasty.” Molek looked at Sam, then stepped to him, crouching before him. “Well, well, well. Sam Winchester. Azazel’s golden boy. Lucifer’s vessel. I see Mia found your tattoo. Maybe I will cut it right off and jump inside. We’ll have a nice ride together.”

“My will was stronger than Lucifer’s. I doubt I’ll have trouble with you.”

“I’ve heard the story. We do get news even as deep as I was. But I don’t see your brother here, boy. That makes you weak. But first…. Time to close that gate for good.” Going to the altar, Molek circled it to stand beside Lisa. Molek giggled, a disturbing sound that was like a small child’s giggle, and bent over Lisa, walking the fingers of one hand up her body, the other holding the knife to Lisa’s throat. “I’m going to kill you, sweetpea. How do you feel about that,” she cooed.

Lisa whimpered.

She raised the knife and lowered it, stopping a fraction before it could plunge into Lisa’s chest. “Oh! Not quite!” She did it again. “Just missed you!” She continued to do the same thing over and over, taunting Lisa with the very real danger and taking advantage of the fact that she was a civilian, an innocent, and there was nothing Gwen or Sam could do about it. The hunters couldn’t protect the innocent and Molek glanced at Gwen and Sam several times, enjoyment on her face. Molek lowered her face close to Lisa’s. Delight grew in Molek’s eyes. “You’re going to die alone here tonight, a bitter, manipulative whore who can’t keep a man. Truth hurts, doesn’t it, sweetpea? You couldn’t even keep an alcoholic wreck of an ex-hunter in your bed. Mmmm. Why is that?”

“Look at me, Lisa,” Gwen said around the gag, repeating it until Lisa’s head turned. “Look at me.”

Molek stabbed the knife into the altar and grabbed Lisa’s face with both hands. “No, you look at me, bitch!”

Hay filtered down from the loft above them. Gwen coughed at the dust.

“What the….” Molek released Lisa and rounded the end of the altar, tilting her head first to one side, then the other, listening. She looked confused. Could she hear anything over the storm?

The bales at the edge of the loft toppled forward.

~~~~~~~~~~

The barn was a large, two story structure. Jo and Ben came upon it from the side. Not decrepit, but certainly not new or taken care of. As Jo and Ben neared it, she saw that the paint was peeling. They circled the building from one side of the open door at one end to the other side. She didn’t worry too much about giving away their presence. The storm was in full swing now, the scent of rain growing deeper, the wind lashing at their clothes.

There was a secondary door, a small one near one corner opposite the large door, and all of the windows were painted black. The upper level had a door that was open, hay bales jammed right up to that opening, though Jo thought there was an opening between the bales.

Jo pressed herself to the side of the barn. They had to get a clear view of the inside and fast, except Jo wasn’t exactly in any condition to be the one doing it. Getting on the ground was easy enough, but slithering across it on her belly and moving fast wasn’t quite in her repertoire at present.

“Crapsticks,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

“What do you want me to do,” Ben asked.

“Go low, as low as you can, on the ground. Get a view of what’s going on inside. Then get another one and tell me the layout.”

He did an impressive soldier’s crawl to the open doorway, coming back in seconds. “Mom and Gwen are on a table at the other end and Sam is tied to the post right there.” He pointed at the barn and elaborated a bit on position. He had a good eye and memory. “Three women, one called ‘Mia’.”

“Mia?” Mia Gwen’s birth mother? Oh great. Wonderful, she thought with a touch of sarcasm. And yet it made perfect sense given the details they already had.

Ducking back down, he returned to the door, but scurried back almost immediately. “Two women,” he corrected. “One just…had a fit or something.”

“Layout?”

“Jo, I’ve been in the barn before. I could walk through it in my sleep. Tommy and I….” He fidgeted, looking around.

“Right.” She could imagine what he and Tommy had done in the barn. “Right, but I haven’t. I need to know what you know about it. Quick.”

He didn’t argue, giving her a rough idea of what the barn looked like on the inside. “I have a plan, if you want to hear it,” he offered in a tentative voice.

Sounds of a fight reached them and she nodded. “Lay it on me.” Right now, anything would work. Her main plan was shoot the witches and rescue everyone in there, but if Ben had anything to add to it, terrific.

~~~~~~~~~~

One of the vehicles that belonged to Tommy’s mom was parked on the access road and Dean checked it. The hood was still warm. Jo and Ben hadn’t been here long. He returned to the Impala, opening the trunk and grabbing a gun. Where was the Colt? He’d thought Sam had packed it, but it didn’t appear to be there.

He hoped the witches hadn’t raised Molek yet, because he had no idea how to kill him.

With the main house appearing deserted, he followed the path around behind it towards the tree line to the barn. It was a genuine barn and not one those metal structures, an old two story of the sort found just about everywhere in the Midwest, spooky in the storm. In the flashes of lightning, he could make out two forms at one end. As he drew closer, he could see it was Jo and Ben.

Jo was crouched down and Ben was…climbing onto her back?

“What the hell are you two doing,” Dean demanded in a hiss, coming up beside them. “That’s a good way to hurt yourself and the baby. Get off her.”

They started, Ben getting back onto his feet with a slight guilty expression and Jo straightening. Putting a hand on her back, she stretched. “You didn’t answer your phone,” she hissed back.

“You didn’t answer yours.”

“Mine was turned off.”

“I sort of got that when it kept going to voicemail. I thought something had happened to you, Jo.”

“First rule of sneaking up on someone is turn your phone off so they can’t hear you when it inevitably rings, because it always rings, Dean. Always. It’s like Murphy’s Law of hunting. Yours went to voicemail, too. Where were you?”

“I got picked up by a delightful, very large and witchy cop who’s now dead.”

“You kill him,” Ben asked in a distracted tone, his hands touching the barn wall like he was looking for something.

“No. A spell did.” He jerked his chin up to indicate the building. “Tell me. What have we got?”

“Gwen and Lisa on the altar on the other side of this wall. Heads are turned west, feet east.” Jo pointed, illustrating, her voice urgent. “Four support posts, two on either end. Sam is tied to the one at the southeast, Ben says it looks like some kind of wire. Mia, our lovely head witch, is all over in there. There were two helpers, but it sounded like one at least bit the dust, maybe the other one too. They were fighting.”

“Wait, Mia? As in Gwen’s real mother Mia?”

“I think so. Ben heard the name.”

“Oh, son of a bitch.” Mia had disappeared, that was part of what they knew from Patricia’s diary. They’d suspected Mia had been killed, that her body simply hadn’t been found, but this made more sense. The witches hadn’t taken her and killed her because she was the witch, the one Patricia had told Gwen about over and over. A witch who’d snuck in and gotten close. Probably the one who’d killed Gwen’s father too. “Mommy is a witch. That won’t scar her.”

Jo nodded. “Ben was going to go up into the loft, push a bale or two onto Mia, then climb down and free Gwen and Lisa while I shoot Mia and the other woman -- if she’s alive -- and free Sam.”

“Sounds like a plan. Get her before she summons Molek.”

She pointed at Ben. “Mostly his plan. Only problem is that I can’t boost him up. Dean, mom says Molek is a demon, not a god and possibly insane as well.”

“That’s terrific. An insane demon. How did we get so lucky?” Dean considered the plan and nodded. “Okay, here’s what we’re --”

The ground shook a tiny bit and lightning flashed bright. Above their heads, the clouds were slowly turning, like a tornado waiting to shoot down. No way any of what just happened was good.

He crouched. “Foot now, Ben!”

Ben didn’t hesitate, Dean vaulting him upwards. He disappeared into the loft, a sprinkling of hay in his wake.

“Tell me you have the Colt, Jo.”

She held it up.

“God, I love you. Now here’s what you and I are going to do if that was Molek’s entrance.” Lowering his mouth to her ear, he sketched out a hasty plan that was rather like his usual plans. He’d go in, distract Molek, draw him away from the others, and give Jo time to aim and get off a killing shot. She was to stay out of view for as long as possible.

She nodded and gave him a quick kiss. “Ready.”

They hurried to the door.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam had been working on his bonds for what felt like forever, gritting his teeth so hard as he did that his jaw began to ache. When he saw the slight movement in the loft, he pushed himself harder, and as the bale fell, the wire finally snapped. The bale fell, Ben’s face, then body appearing. Sam freed his wrists and got up, diving for Molek, intending on wrestling her and performing an exorcism. It was better to try it free than tied up. He wouldn’t be as helpless untied. He hoped. There was no devil’s trap or containment, but he’d just have to make it work until whoever was with Ben could get in the barn and complete the plan they had. He hoped they had a plan at least. He began to exorcise the demon while it was shrugging off the hay, speaking as quickly as he could, hoping he could get a chunk of the way through it or at least get it out of Mia.

Ben jumped down from the loft, hurrying to the altar, a knife in one hand. He reached for the rope at Lisa’s wrists, started to saw through it.

Molek screamed, like the sound of a lion, and flung her arms out.

Sam felt himself fly through the air and hit the wall behind the post he’d been tied to, the words he’d been about to say stuck in his throat as all air seemed to leave him. He couldn’t draw in a breath, black spots quickly starting to dance across his vision. Across the room, he saw Ben in the same position.

And then Dean stepped into the doorway.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was time to act whether he was ready or not. Dean forced a cocky grin and assumed the planned position.

Molek stood with her arms spread, hands up. She had Sam and Ben both pinned, Sam to Dean’s right and Ben across the barn behind the altar. Gwen and Lisa were on the altar as Jo had said and there were two female bodies on the dirt floor. The first was to his left, the second far on the right.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he said in a nonchalant tone.

The body Molek was in couldn’t be anyone but Gwen’s birth mother. The resemblance was too striking. The hair, the build, the facial features. If she’d kept herself young and stood beside Gwen, Dean wasn’t sure they’d be able to tell the difference without close study.

The demon was panting, annoyed, hair a wild tangle and teeth bared, eyes wide. She gave off an animal vibe, turning slightly to face him. “I stand corrected, Sam. Your brother is here. And he’s got a toy with him.”

He took the shot. Molek was there and then gone and there again, the bullet missing her to ding the edge of the altar at Gwen and Lisa’s feet. Damn, she moved fast! Gwen turned her head and stared at him, pausing in her own attempts to free herself. He read the ‘are you trying to kill me?’ in her gaze.

Molek heaved a sigh and shook her head. “You can’t hurt me with that piddly little thing, even if you’re fast enough to hit me.”

“My other gun can.”

Not yet. Jo couldn’t shoot yet, not without endangering Gwen, Lisa, and Ben. They were all potentially in the way. He needed to draw Molek closer and that he didn’t really want to do. There was a ton of crazy swimming in her strange looking eyes and crazy and demon weren’t two words he wanted to put together. Meg was crazy, but Molek? A whole different level of nutso.

Molek let Ben drop and tossed Dean against the wall by the large door, a mirror position to Sam. With a flick of her wrist, she sent them sliding upwards, heads smacking the loft above. She giggled. “Ooh, oops! Did I hurt your widdle noggins boys?”

“Crazy demon.” She would use baby talk.

“I like you. You’re feisty. Now where’s that other gun you were going to…shoot me with?”

Her coy tone brought a surging of bile up his throat.

“You know, killing isn’t the only thing I haven’t done in thousands of years.” Her tongue flicked out like a snake’s tongue. “When I was on earth last, I was a god, with priests and priestesses to bring children to me…and their parents. So many pleasures available to me in an earthly body and I can’t decide where to begin. I’ve missed them all, especially the tearing of human flesh under my teeth and the taste of blood. The cries of agony are pure ecstasy.” She ran her teeth along her lower lip. “I’ve changed my mind, Sam,” she called out. “I want your brother instead.” Her gaze slid down him and back up as she sidled close, the move taking all of their people from the line of fire. “I’ll use you to satisfy my cravings and then the real fun can begin. I can’t wait to get back to work.”

Dean laughed, though he admitted to himself that it did sound a tad desperate.

Molek frowned. “What are you laughing at?”

“You.”

“Me?” She took one more step closer. He could see that the whites of her eyes were a weird mottled red and yellow.

“Yeah, you, you psychotic bitch. You might be dangerous in hell, you may be crazy in hell, but honey, right here and now you’re dumber than a lower level black eyes. Now,” he yelled.

Jo stepped into the open doorway.

Molek turned her head.

~~~~~~~~~~

How could everything not be starting to go south? Jo got as low as she could and took a quick glance around the door. Damn it! She gripped the Colt. If she missed…. Gwen, Lisa, and Ben were all in the way if the shot went haywire, not to mention she was going to have one chance. If she missed, it was Molek’s show right to the end of all of their lives -- which wouldn’t be much longer.

Focus, she told herself. You can do this. You can totally take out this demon.

She was nauseated, her stomach feeling like she was about to throw up everything she’d eaten for the past week and the baby was kicking in a way that was making her think she was going to have to pee very soon.

Concentrate. She was going to have to concentrate and aim in a single second. It wasn’t a case of turn and just shoot, she would have to aim. It had to be a killing shot to work.

She slid back up to stand and took a deep, calming breath.

Molek’s voice was closer, a change of position.

She could see her now, a bit of her anyway, standing close to Dean, and prayed the demon wouldn’t see her until the shot was made.

The signal came. Her own breaths were loud in her ears, blocking out the sounds of the storm, her temples throbbing with tension.

Jo stepped into the doorway where Dean had been, her legs spread for balance, took aim as fast as she could, and fired.

The rain that had been threatening for hours began to fall.