Title: Nothing and Everything

Chapter 27

~~~~~~~~~~

With Castiel’s assistance, they spent two days tracking the Trickster throughout Las Vegas. He never strayed very far from the hotel where he’d first taken notice of Dean and Jo, spending his time mostly at the pool, or in restaurants, constantly surrounded by pretty women. Sam wondered if they were real or of his own making. It could be either or both.

Even with Castiel’s help, however, they had to be careful. Occasionally, the Trickster would look up and around like he’d sensed something. He’d turn in a slow circle, studying wherever they all were with a gaze that Sam suspected missed very little. After that, he’d be uneasy for awhile, then slowly slip back into the partying mode he looked to be in. Once, they stood by and watched him mete out some justice to a well-deserving man in one casino.

“This is a --”

“Bad idea,” he and Dean both finished for Castiel, whose gaze was slightly defiant. He’d been saying variations of that phrase for the past two days.

“Well, it is,” he insisted, looking very much like he was sulking because they weren‘t heeding his words and leaving this alone. “I just don’t understand why you’re so certain it’ll work.”

“Because it obviously worked for Aaron.” Sam hefted his bag onto his other shoulder and kept his attention on the Trickster. He was at the pool, staying while others took their leave of the area.

“He may have changed the words.”

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Dean crossed his arms and shifted position against the planter he was half sitting on. “Relax, Cas. This’ll be just a nice chat with a dangerous monster. Nothing we haven’t done before.”

“Nice chats don’t include ways to strip the creature’s power from him.”

Dean waved a hand like it didn’t make any difference.

“I have to do this. He threatened my wife. It’s personal.” Sam glanced at Cas. “You can understand that at least, right?”

Castiel slid his hands into his pockets and gave a slow nod, though Sam saw the hurt in his eyes and his voice betrayed that emotion. “Of course I understand why you wish to deal with him. He’s a threat.”

“And one I’d like to have taken care of before Gwen and I leave. I don’t want to have to come back and do this. I want it over with. We’ve got enough to worry about with the Soul Stealer without wondering if the Trickster is going to come after Gwen again. Let’s just do this and go home so I can go on my honeymoon without worrying about him popping in.”

“I’m not saying he shouldn’t be dealt with, Sam, only that this idea isn’t the best as plans go.”

“You have a better idea,” Dean asked, brows raised with the question.

“No.” The admittance was said with a troubled frown and Castiel turned his attention back to the pool.

They watched the Trickster at the pool, chatting with one hotel staff member, and then it was only them and him. The area was deserted otherwise. He came down the path towards them, walking with a slow sauntering stride.

Sam said the words he’d learned and waited. He wasn’t sure what to expect. There wasn’t a description in the journal. The effect of the words was instantaneous. A soft golden sheen surrounded the Trickster, like thick ropes about him. He tried to move, struggling to do so and loosing several inventive curses when he realized he was trapped.

“I’ll be damned,” Dean whispered, smacking Sam on the arm with one hand. “It worked.”

He and Dean stepped from their places in the shadows. Castiel remained where he was.

“How do you trick a Trickster, Sam?” Dean crossed his arms and grinned.

“Patience,” he replied. “And an angel masking our presence.”

Castiel, as reluctant as he’d ever been to assist them on something, came forward. “This is a bad idea,” he said a final time. When they’d called him, he’d seemed more nervous than normal, almost like he’d been when the Civil war was playing out. He’d cautioned them against this action, yet agreed in the end to aid them and be there in case something went wrong. He’d seemed certain something would go wrong. Maybe it still would. Sam was willing to take that chance.

“I agree,” the Trickster said, anger simmering in his eyes. “A very bad idea. Sam and Dean Winchester and their little lap angel. Why am I not surprised? How the hell are you?” He looked down at himself, immobile by the now invisible bonds, and looked back up. “Not very hospitable of you to bind me. Care to explain?”

“Take us somewhere private, Cas.” Dean’s request brought an instant result and they were all in the empty penthouse before he’d finished speaking. “Give us a few minutes?”

With a sigh and nod, Castiel disappeared from view. Sometimes Sam wondered if he really left, or if he would stay right there out of sight.

The Trickster frowned as though aware of what they had planned. “Think before you two do something hasty. Really think about it.”

Sam set his bag on the table and opened it, drawing out a stake tipped with blood and the box he and Dean had built. It was an exact replica of the one that had been smashed, larger and sturdy. Sam had polished the wood and the ornate symbols gleamed under the light. The calculations of size were Aaron’s and Sam bet it was an accurate container.

The Trickster’s glance slid to the box and back to them. “Now that’s no way to win friends. Have you thought at all about what you’re planning to do here? I could be a good ally if you play your cards right.”

“Now that’s funny coming from a creature that threatened one of our own.” Dean hefted the stake.

“I’ve thought a lot these past months,” Sam admitted, “mostly about how all of you uglies consistently underestimate me and my brother.”

“You do.” Dean circled the bound Trickster. “Lot of underestimation going on. If you look at the trend, it’s constant and consistent.”

“You call us stupid and bumbling, but who’s got who trapped right now?”

“You cheated,” he spat, twisting once more against invisible bonds. “You used an angel. That’s hardly fair.”

“Right. We cheated. Because none of you ever cheat.” Dean stopped in front of him, staring at him. “You’re blameless.”

“Okay, maybe I have cheated. But I never once underestimated either of you.” His gaze darted back and forth between them, finally stopping on Sam. “Remember Sam? I anticipated a future dance at the ball. I listened to every story Gabriel ever told me about you.”

How many stories had Gabriel told and how long did Gabriel watch them? Sam opened the lid of the box. “What would happen if I took all of your powers and put them in this box? Any idea? Would you become an immortal, powerless, almost human creature, unrecognizable to his own children?”

A sliver of fear in his eyes. It was real fear, too, not an act. “You wouldn’t.”

“Look at my face and tell me what I wouldn’t do.” Sam was very serious. He was actually contemplating that action instead of killing the creature.

He studied Sam, then Dean, and Sam again. All snark and attitude was gone. He was solemn now. “What do you want?”

“Information first and don’t worry. We’re aware of the shelf-life on Aaron’s spell. He was very specific.”

“If I don’t comply?”

Sam shrugged. “We siphon your powers a little at a time into the box until you do.”

He licked his lips. “That’s torture. You understand that, right?”

They’d discussed that very idea on the way here. Could that plan be construed as torture and did they particularly care if it was.

“Think of it as incentive,” Dean told him, setting the stake down with an encouraging smile.

Sam stared at him. “Isn’t that what you told Gwen? Incentive?”

He laughed, a nervous sound. “Jesus, Sam, it’s about the woman? You can have her. I promised I’d leave you lot alone if I ever got my power back and lo and behold it came sliding back to me a couple or three months ago. You’re out of my sights --”

“I know a blatant lie when I hear one. You’re not done with her or us. You were planning on waiting awhile, then coming for her anyway.”

His lips parted, surprise flashing across his face. “Okay, maybe I was.”

“You don’t want to test me, Trickster.” Sam took up the stake. “I could kill you.”

“I haven’t killed anyone, not recently anyway. No blood.” Was that sweat on his brow? “You’re out of luck and when this spell expires --”

“About that…. I’ve been doing some intensive reading, going back over the stories, and you know…nothing ever says the victim has to be dead.”

Gwen had let them take some blood for the stake and known right then what they were going to go do. She’d cautioned them to be careful, to not get them any deeper in with him. While he understood her wanting to walk away, he wasn’t willing to until he knew the problem was fixed for good and that meant…this. He wanted an end, one way or another. If that meant he siphoned the powers and left him human, then so be it. If it meant he killed him, then he could live with that, too.

“Everyone’s assumed of course.” Dean leaned against the table. “Hell, we’ve done it ourselves.”

A hit. They’d scored a direct hit. The fear in his eyes grew. “Fine. You’re right. That what you want to hear? Ask.”

“What happens to your powers when you die? Do they dissipate?”

“They’ll spread out evenly among my descendants, give them a boost.” His glance slid to the box. “At least that’s what Gabriel thought. He studied the matter, thought if he was playing at being me he should know that.”

“A boost…unless they’re siphoned off first.” Sam had considered the idea of the powers passing to descendants earlier, wondered if that would happen. It wasn’t a good thing in his opinion. They didn’t need powered up Tricksters running around. “Interesting. What exactly are the reaches of your power?”

“What is this, the getting to know you Q and A? Don’t you already know this crap, boys?”

“Humor us,” Dean told him. “You and Gabriel blend together for us a little. Don’t you want to be remembered as yourself and not because of the archangel?”

“You’ve seen what I can do. I make fake realities out of reality, twist things out of natural order. I can snap my fingers and shove an angel into a fake reality long enough to get things done. I can turn into a bird, or a wolf, or a couple other really neat creatures, and I can disappear in a blink if I need to get away faster than shape shifting to do so. I am a force to be reckoned with --” He renewed his struggles.

Sam cleared his throat and held up a finger. “Not so fast.” He repeated the words that bound the Trickster, then made a flourish with that finger. “Continue. A force to be reckoned with?”

“You’re an insolent pup,” he spat, red spots of angry color darkening his cheeks.

“Who has you trapped. Now….”

“On to the serious matter.” Dean closed the lid of the box. It didn’t need to be standing open to siphon the powers. It was the words that did that. “You’ve been around a long time, right?”

“Give the man a gold star.”

“There’s a creature got loose recently. Possibly a Soul Stealer. We think some Campbells trapped it once. You know anything about it?”

At the mention of the Soul Stealer, the Trickster’s face paled, those red spots fading.

“I stay away from those things.” That was sweat on his brow, now beginning to drip down his face.

“All of them or just this one?”

He licked his lips. “All of them. All those things are dangerous.”

“You’re scared of it.” Sam was actually surprised about that. The Soul Stealer was big enough to frighten a real Trickster.

“What? You’re surprised there are things I’m afraid of?”

“There’s always a bigger fish,” Dean replied. “Go on.”

“If it’s a Soul Stealer that got loose, then we’re all in the same boat. Neither heaven, hell, or purgatory wants those things. It got bound a long time ago to keep the earth from being ripped up.”

“Who bound it?”

“Hunters.”

“Care to be more specific?” Sam circled him now, assessing him. Even bound there was a sense of power about him.

“Would if I could. More than one I know.”

“How did they get the knowledge to bind it?”

“Hell if I know. All I know is it happened. It was going on it’s merry way, drinking down every soul it could, monster and human, like it was at some damn buffet table and then it was gone.” He shook his head. “It feeds on everything. Human, monster. It doesn’t care where it gets it’s food. To it, a soul is a soul, but the sweetest ones are from the bloodlines that bound it. It eats the soul, then starts in on the physical body.”

“You ever met one?”

“No, but a couple of my oldest children did. I had to kill them both to keep them from…” He looked down at the ground, what looked very much like grief on his face. “He hadn’t gotten to chowing down on their bodies yet, but he’d pretty much finished with their souls. They were different, changed.” He sucked in a noisy breath through his nose. “You think us all cruel, evil, but we’re not. We have our role in this world, just like you. Not all of us kill or hurt and that goes for other types of monsters, too.” He looked up. “One father to another Dean? Pray you never have to kill your child because he’s turning into something that redefines what pure evil really is. That’s a pain that never goes away.”

Sam exchanged a long glance with Dean and filed that information away. He hadn’t thought of that before. If the Soul Stealer got organized, he could take the souls of monsters and transform them into things even worse than they already were by the loss of the soul. He could make an army. Sam tried to imagine an army of monsters in the same position he’d been in and quickly shoved that thought aside. “Can a soul be retrieved from it?”

The Trickster laughed. “Would you want something partially digested crammed back into you? Kinder to kill the person or monster. Don’t underestimate it. If it gets into it’s host’s mind…. It’ll know everything that host knows.”

“Anything else?”

“That’s all I know, I swear.” An air of defeat had settled over him. The spell apparently kept him from working his own magic at all. “Have I earned enough good Trickster points to go free now?”

“No.” Sam reached for the stake.

“Not so fast.” Dean held up a hand. “Let’s think about this.”

“Think about it,” the Trickster said. “Take a minute, Sam. Surely we have another minute.”

“Let’s list everything he’s done to us all. See how it weighs out.”

“Okay.” Sam crossed his arms. “You messed with Jo and Dean in Las Vegas.”

“I pointed out a few areas they needed to work on. I just did what any good counselor would have done.”

“You crashed the baby shower, went in our base uninvited and rifled through Gwen’s things, grabbed her by the throat….” He drew in a long breath and continued. “Then you apparently stalked her until you had her and Jo alone --”

“I kept Jo from falling through the floor onto those rusty traps.”

“One point in your favor,” Dean said with an affable nod. “Thanks. I like my wife alive.”

“Not enough. You kidnapped Gwen, terrorized her, tried to seduce her, impersonated me --”

“Hey, I impersonated all of you. Get it right, Sambo.”

“Let’s add that to the list of charges.”

Dean circled the Trickster. “We should also consider that when Gwen had that accident, the original box was smashed, releasing his bit of power and saving her from dying.”

“Yeah!” The Trickster blinked. “Wait, what? She almost died? What happened?” Concern replaced his fear. “Is she okay?”

Sam looked at Dean. This wasn’t just a show for the Trickster’s benefit. They really were weighing it all. “That’s a big thing in his favor. What do you think?” His first instinct was to kill him no matter what, but that indirect saving of Gwen’s life was worth something. He was grateful the power had been in that box and that it had smashed.

“I think he’s earned it.”

He nodded. “He’s earned something anyway.” Sam said the second set of words he’d memorized, the power flowing into the box.

The Trickster screamed, head thrown back, and slumped to the floor as the spell holding him dissipated. It was created to hold a powerful being, not a powerless one. He stayed on his hands and knees for a moment, then slowly sat and looked up at them. “Wait, you’re not going to kill me?” The words were surprised, terrified even. Panic flickered in his eyes.

With a shrug, Sam told him, “I can be merciful. We both can. We’ve no interest in taking your life, only making sure you can’t find Gwen and can’t hurt people again. If you hadn’t indirectly managed to save Gwen’s life, I would’ve taken yours, but you did. It earned you life.”

“But not powers.” Dean packed up the box and the stake and shouldered the bag.

“Dicks,” he spat. “You can’t leave me like this! I’m helpless!”

“Somehow, I think you’ll survive,” Sam said in a dry tone and called for Castiel to take them from the hotel.

Hours later, Sam sat on the side of the bed by Gwen. Reaching out a hand, he gently shook her to wake her. She woke with a gasp and raised up on her elbows.

“Sam? You’re back?” She sat up and snapped on the light.

“We are.”

“And?”

“It’s taken care of.”

“You killed him?”

He knew he should tell her what he and Dean had done, but to admit they’d actually left the creature alive might still worry her. “He won’t bother us again.” It wasn’t a denial or an affirmation and he could see her trying to figure out which way to take it.

After a long moment, she nodded. “Okay. You coming to bed?”

“I’ll be in in a few. I’m gonna have a beer with Dean first.” Back in the living room, he accepted the beer Dean handed him and looked at Castiel. “Take good care of it for me, Cas.”

Castiel held the box in his hands, thumbs circling two of the symbols. He nodded. “Of course. Nothing will happen to it where I take it.” He disappeared.

Dean clinked his beer bottle to Sam’s. “Cheers. We do the right thing today?”

“About draining his powers?”

“About letting him live. Everything in me was screaming to kill him, you know.” He sat down on the couch. “Feels wrong to let him live.”

“Felt wrong to kill him, wrong to let him live…. Feels wrong either way. He’s still a monster.”

“A neutered one.”

Honestly though? At the end of the day? Sam was okay with letting him live without his powers. What could he do to them? Nothing. He was nothing to them now, the resources his powers had afforded him gone.

~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks passed in a blur. To Jo, it seemed like the older she was, the faster time passed. She watched Sam and Gwen buckle down with their honeymoon plans and put together a cruise they insisted was going to be wonderful despite being right in the height of hurricane season. She and Dean helped them pack, did some switching around when the two went to say goodbye to Ellen, and saw them off at the airport. They’d be back in time for Jack’s first birthday.

Jo looked up from her own bag. “Are you sure, Dean?”

“Go. You and Ellen have a great time.”

What did one pack to go to a spa anyway? It had never come up before. “Are you sure,” she repeated.

“More than sure.” He laid Jack on the bed and sat down beside him. “We’re gonna hang around here, watch some Sesame Street, eat, take a few long naps, and have some real dad-son time.”

Jo narrowed her eyes at him, a tiny bit suspicious as to why he was so gung-ho. “Okay, what’s the case you’ve found?”

“No case. I just don’t get enough time with Jack. Besides, it’ll give you more of a break and I’m sure ‘spa week’ is Ellen code for ‘job you’ll love’.

Honestly, it was ten days at a spa. Why didn’t anyone believe them? Even Gwen had been skeptical. It was a spa, really. A grateful client had given Ellen a top package as payment for getting rid of a vengeful ghost. Jo had seen the vouchers. They looked real to her.

“Go,” he repeated. “Have fun chasing down whatever Ellen’s found for you two. It’s been awhile since you went out on a hunt together. I bet she misses it.”

“It’s not a hunt. She’d say it outright if it was.”

“Uh-huh.”

She closed her bag and zipped it shut. “So if it really is a job she has….” She studied him. He hadn’t balked about her and Gwen taking cases and Jo wondered if he was still panic attack free. Surely he would have said something if he’d had another one? Then again, this was Dean Winchester. Shove it down and ignore it was still his favorite coping method. “Are you okay with me working one?”

Dean stretched out on their bed. Jack grabbed a fistful of his shirt and used it to sit up, wobbling a little, the pacifier in his mouth wiggling. Dean steadied him with a hand. “I think so.”

“No more attacks?”

“None.”

“Weird.” In her opinion, that meant he could be due for another one any time now and not necessarily over anything panic-worthy. She came around the bed. “You’ve had none at all, not even any little ones, since that first one? No twinges?”

He shrugged. “None. Not even a whiff of one.”

He didn’t look like he was lying either. “That’s bad.”

“I thought it’d be a good thing. Means I’m okay with it.” He grinned at her and put one arm under the pillow beneath his head.

She shook her head and sat beside him. “Not necessarily. As bad a reaction as you had then and you’re just fine about it?”

“We’ve had a lot happen since then. If I was going to panic again, I would’ve. I don’t think it’s an issue anymore.”

Leaning over, she touched his face with a hand, cupping his jaw and rubbing her thumb along the stubble there. “Sweetheart, you once sold your soul to save Sam from death. Those sort of issues don’t just fade away on their own.”

He grasped her hand in his, pressed a kiss to her fingers, and brought her hand to his chest. “Jo, I’m fine. You and Gwen have gone out a couple times and while I’ve been worried, it hasn’t been crippling. It’s okay now. I’m fine. I’m okay.”

“Dean.”

“I said I’m fine. I think it was a one-off anyway.”

She blinked. One-off? Did he really think that? She loosed her hand from his. “No.” Standing, she picked up Jack. He squirmed in her arms, leaning in the direction of the bed, wanting back down.

“Sure it was.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Go with Ellen and have fun.” He stood up and grabbed her bag. “Shoot something nasty.”

Jo closed one of the front pockets on the bag with her free hand. “You are so not okay with it.”

“I dealt with it. It’s done.”

From outside came the sound of a horn. Jack spit the pacifier out and began babbling nonsensical noises.

“Sure.” She nodded. “Okay. Sounds like mom’s here. You and Jack have a good week.”

“We’re having an excellent week.” He hefted her bag. “You say goodbye to him and I’ll take this out to Ellen.”

Jo changed Jack and as she straightened his shirt, she whispered, “Take care of daddy this week, okay? Keep him out of trouble?” He grinned and blew a spit bubble at her. With a laugh, she picked him up and carried him downstairs and outside.

~~~~~~~~~~

Not for a single minute did Dean believe Ellen and Jo were going to a spa. The reason? Because Ellen was too cheerful and insistent about it. She definitely had something else planned, but he was fine. Jo and Ellen had been each other’s back-up for a long time. He trusted Ellen to keep Jo safe and doubted she’d have something super dangerous lined up.

As soon as the car pulled away, Dean’s phone rang. Cradling Jack in one arm, he answered it. “What’s up, Bobby?”

“Get over here. I need you to check me in to Resting Pines Retirement Home before Ellen gets back.”

He blinked and said the first smartass thing that came to mind as he went into the house. “There are easier ways to breakup with a woman, you know. Isn’t checking yourself into a rest home a little extreme?”

“I’m not breaking up with Ellen, Dean. She wouldn’t do it.”

“That’s a rather personal admission. Did you try getting her drunk? That usually loosens up morals.”

Bobby heaved a heavy sigh. “No, I mean she wouldn’t check me in. We’re fine in the bedroom.”

He shuddered. “Now that really was too much information.”

“Said I had no proof anything was hinkey, but my gut says yes.”

He frowned, put Jack in his playpen and sat on the couch. “Talk to me.” Bobby’s gut was usually good.

“Four unexplained deaths in the past three weeks.”

“In an old folk’s home? Where there are old people?”

“Yeah, idjit, in an old folk’s home. With old people.”

“Just checking.”

“Unexplained, as in no reasonable explanation for the deaths. All four were in good health.”

“Why are you so interested in that place?” And why was Ellen so sure there wasn’t anything there?

“A friend of mind called about it. She --”

“She?” Now the pieces were making sense. Old girlfriend maybe? “Uh-huh.”

“I can have women friends. Gina I go way back.”

The way he said ‘friends’ clinched it. Gina was an old girlfriend and Ellen was jealous. He wondered if Gina and Ellen had talked and what that conversation had sounded like. “She live there or work there?”

“Work.”

Working woman, knew about the life enough to call Bobby in…. Definitely jealousy. Still, that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything there. “Sure. I’ll get you in.”

It wouldn’t be Dean working it anyway. He’d just get Bobby there and in and come home for ten days of baby bonding time.