Hollow Promises

Dead Man's Blood and Holy Water

*Author's note* Thank you for reading this far! the next chapter is going to be the finale, I hope the story is building up to it well. I might take a few days to post because I'll be distracted with work and midterms. Have a great day! *Author's note*

At that moment Sam got a text, "Dean's got something," he rose from his spot on the pony wall, "We should go."

"Of course," your reluctant sigh was unavoidable. You walked side by side with him, smiling when he took your trash and dropped it in a rusty garbage bin.

He didn't try to touch you, but the back of your hands brushed as you passed shops on the sidewalk.

You've compromised too many rules as it is. Stop this while you still can. You left the silence intact, at ease with the sounds of the small town. I can't go back. You wrapped your free hand around Sam's elbow as you made your way. It was impossible to say how they came so close but Sam, and even Dean, made you stronger. I've known them for a day and I could see them as family.

Sam placed you so that he walked closer to the street, he stayed that way till he opened the door to the room.

"I hope you had a charming stroll around the block, but it's time to gear up," the suit Dean wore haphazardly draped on the bed, he'd traded it out for blue jeans and t shirt. With a flannel.

"What'd you find out?" Sam reached for a duffle bag, loading the dead man's blood tipped knives.

"There's a lumber mill that was shut down two months ago, but it's still syphoning power from the grid," Dean fixed the collar to his jacket, "And it's secluded."

"Wait, it's got power and water?" Sam snaps his head up. The wheels turning behind his eyes made them flicker with excitement.

"Yeah?" Dean draws out, "What're you thinking Sammy?"

You watch the exchange between the brothers with subtle amusement. Aww, Sammy....

"Where's the closest morgue?" Sam slowed his busy hands.

You reached for a map hidden among the scattered lore books, "A few blocks from here," you cock an eyebrow at the madman.

"We can slip dead man's blood into the sprinkler system," Sam ceases his work and glances at you and Dean in turn.

"Yes," you muse, "Yes, rumor has it that the Barons also like to work with demons," your grin is wicked.

"We're about to have one hell of a fiesta," Dean nodded along.

. . . . . . .

Sneaking into a morgue was surprisingly harder than you thought. Who puts this much security on dead people? Before you could even pick the locks, Sam had to disable the cameras and infrared lasers. Insanity.

"I would've gone through both locks sixty seconds ago," Dean whispered over your shoulder.

"The first lock had spool pins. Pretty boy," you mumbled as you focused on the tumblers, "This door has a deadbolt with," you are awarded with a click, "Serrated pins." The door swings open on silent hinges, "You of all people should know the difference."

Dean paused before walking in behind you. The tiled room echoed his breathing, "What does that mean?"

You grin with your back turned, "The blood is behind that steel door," you crouch in front of the handle, "Thank God they haven't caught up with modern security," you look over your shoulder, "No key card."

"I doubt the Man upstairs would approve of what we're doing," Dean offered you his pick and tension wrench.

You were out of the morgue in less than five minutes, you and Dean grabbed only enough to get the job done. The winding halls of the dated building led took you both to the side entrance. You let the few concerns cross your mind as your boots thumped on the lawn to the waiting Impala. I hope no one notices how much to took, this will have to do. The car is moving before you drop in the back seat.

"How'd you manage?" Sam peered over his shoulder in the passenger seat.

"We got plenty, let's go!" You adjust the canisters of blood. A silence fell over the car, though you all were doing the same thing. It was time to lock down your own thoughts before any of you started doing what you do best. The town fell away, you overheard Dean say the lumber mill was fifteen minutes out.

Sam referred to a map as Dean drove, the lowering sun brought out the red clay in the dirt roads. A coiling river to your right set was set with red and fire to light your way. Dean pulled over just as busted shingles could be spied in between the tree tops and you all piled out.

"I'm going to the east side and deploy the dead man's blood and sanctify the water," the younger Winchester double checked the contents of his duffle in trunk, "Y/n, you'll be the one to climb up the building and flick the sprinklers on when I give you the signal."

"I'm coming in right through the front door," Dean withdrew a monster bowie knife and strapped it to his thigh, he flicks his head in a nod, "Alright, let's get this done."

"Be careful," you adjust the strap on your machete, letting it slide a little higher up your back. You look at both of them through your lashes, "You both are starting to grow on me."

. . . . . . .

Climbing the building's side was the easiest thing you've done all afternoon. It was hiding in the catwalks and trying not to choke on the scent blocking mixture that sucked.

"Y/n hasn't left the town, her scent is all over the place Baroness," Luke's unmistakable voice bounced off the steel rafters, "I fear she will attempt to bring you harm."

"Thank you, but I will be fine" Narkissa consoled, "Y/n has a past with the three families. Her hate is natural and...primal."

'Hell yeah I do,' you fought yourself harder than any previous moment to lunge down and finish what you started two days ago. You couldn't see any of them between the dim lighting and number of beams tangled in each other. The smell of chopped lumber stuck in the cracks and crevices.

"She must find an outlet for that rage-" Narkissa was cut short. The hanging lights above burst with life and the generators began to grind together.

From down below you heard a thunderous shout reverb through the girded steel walls.

"Time to go to work!" Dean bellowed through the mill. Round after round of shotgun blasts covered anything else he might have said.

You reach for the handle and drag it down, fighting the rust every inch. The sprinklers soak your clothes in seconds. Watching you're step on the slick steel, you ran down the stairs to join Sam and Dean's assault, forgetting stealth.

A person blocked you at the base of the stairs, past their shoulder you spied the Winchesters going to town.

Not knowing if they were a vamp or demon, you swiped your machete through their neck, it surprised you how little their spine resisted. You kicked the now headless body down the stairs and leaped over the twitching form.

Sam pressed further into the writhing throngs, sidestepping a random saw blade table. As quick as the blood spattered his skin it was washed into his clothes.Other than a few pieces of machinery, the echoing war room was bare.

You thrust your knife into a vampire's back, their jacket grew warm as blood poured through. Twisting the tip of your blade higher, you used the new leverage to throw them over your back and at Dean's feet.

All of the monsters writhed in pain, vampire and demon alike, smoking and twisting.

The sprinkler systems was a stroke of brilliance. You watched Sam's back while Dean covered yours.