40. The Blame Game
I know I'm not welcome to the pyre, but I feel it's my place to be. I knew Charlie in the short time that I'd seen her. She meant something to my brothers.
I hide in the tree line of the secluded area my brothers made the pyre in. My brothers are walking to it, Dean holding Charlie's white-sheet-wrapped body in his arms. She looks so small, even with the sheet. With Sam's help, Charlie's body is put onto the pyre.
The fire is started, and everything of Charlie begins to burn. When will the air stop smelling like burnt flesh? In our case, never. The death toll will never stop for us Winchesters.
Sighing through my nose, I step in behind my brothers.
"Charlie," I hear Sam say. "We're gonna miss you. You were the best. And I'm so sorry—"
"Shut up," Dean cuts him off gruffly. "You got her killed, you don't get to apologize."
"We were trying to help you."
"I didn't need help. I told you to leave it alone."
"What was I supposed to do, just—watch you die?"
"The Mark isn't gonna kill me."
"Maybe not, but—when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore. Dean, you're all I've got. So of course I was gonna fight for you, because that's what we do."
"What about Jo? Sounds like you forget she exists."
"I...I'm not sure about Jo anymore." Sam rubs the back of his head. "She's not the sister we grew up with. And listen, we had a shot—"
"Yeah you had a shot. Charlie's dead. Nice shot."
"You think I'm—You think I'm ever—gonna forgive myself for that?"
"You wanna know what I think? I think it should be you up there, or Jo, not her. This thing, with Cas, and the book, it ends now. Shut it down before somebody else gets hurt. You understand me?"
There's a long pause before Sam says, "And what about you?"
"Oh, I'm gonna find whoever did this. And I'm gonna rip apart everything and everyone that they ever loved. And then I'm gonna tear out their heart."
"Is that you talking or the Mark?"
"Does it matter?"
"Styne," I say, scaring both my brothers. Dean looks so unhappy to see me, and Sam looks warily at me. "That's who you want to rip to shreds, Dean."
"You were listening."
"Couldn't resist," I say coldly. "Look, if you want to bite someone's head off for Charlie's death, bite off mine."
"Oh, I was getting around to you next, Jo. Are you sure I need to go after a Styne?"
"I know you blame me for her death, but you don't believe I caused that, did you?"
"I don't know what to believe about you anymore." Dean knocks into me roughly as he leaves the burning pyre. I look at Sam, who avoids my eyes.
I lick my lips. "Trust me, Sammy, you shouldn't have guilt eating you up. Dean's on a warpath right now." A warpath in which I should be taking up now too. I need something to kill. The anger in me is festering like a disease, it wants blood.
"Talking to him is the last thing you need to be doing right now, Jo."
"Oh, I'm not going back to talk to him."
"Then what do you plan to do?"
"Nothing that involves you."
Just as I head for the entrance of the bunker, Dean's coming out and heading towards the Impala.
"Where're you going?" I ask my brother.
"I really don't have time to deal with you right now."
"Look, if you're going after the Stynes, I want in."
"Why?"
"Because as hard as it is to believe, Dean, I want to kill them. I want them wiped off of God's green earth!" I slam the driver's side door as Dean tries to open it. "Take me with you."
"So, what? You can fuck this up too?" He pulls a gun on me. "Jo, I'm not gonna ask you. Let me do this. If you follow me, so help me God I will put you down. I will make it look like an accident too."
"Fine." I step forward, the barrel of the weapon against my skin. "Do it. Put me down now, because I plan on going after your pathetic ass. Isn't that what you want, Dean? To kill me? You've wanted me dead since I came out of Hell! You can fool a lot of people, but not me. I know you see me as a monster, even if you know I'm your sister."
His lip twitches, and for a second, I think I've sentenced myself to death. But the weapon is moved away from me. Dean opens the Impala door and climbs in. I try to move forward, but I get stopped. God damn it all. Red paint is sprayed on the ground. My own brother put me in a fucking Devil's trap.
"Oh, you asshat," I snarl.
"I may or may not let you out when I get back," he calls through the open window. I cough, swatting away the dust that kicks up as he pulls the Impala out onto the road. I look around feverishly. Come on, there's got to be something close by.
Then I spot it: a stick. Reaching out, I call on my power to fling it towards me. It subtly moves, and I concentrate harder. If I've got any shot of ending the Stynes myself, I can't do it stuck in a trap. If I can just scratch the paint off...Ugh, I wish I'd put a tracker in Baby.
The stick shoots into the air, landing inside of the trap. Breathing easier, I chip away at the spray paint, scratching part of the trap so the magic disappears. I make sure to cover all my bases until I accidentally snap the stick in half. I extend my hand outwards past the trap's boundary.
Nothing stops me.
I run inside to the bunker. Okay, okay. Do research on the Stynes. Find anything that can point you to where they are. Grab all weapons necessary. I think about the angel blade the Styne used against me. I'm definitely more than happy to shove that thing through his skull. But he's not normal by any means. He's stronger. He's got to be some sort of monster. Humans aren't that durable, or that strong.
I pass through the library, straight into my room. Weapons first, research second. I start shuffling about my room until I get myself stopped in the middle. I curse under my breath. I'm not standing on a Devil's trap, I'm standing under one this time.
"The fuck?" I huff, stomping my foot. When did that even happen? "Dean, I might just kill you before you kill the Stynes..." I look around and remember the angel blade in the mattress. Like with the stick, I extend an open hand towards it. Use the Force. It almost makes me laugh, the encouragement. Being a demon is no way equal to being a Jedi, but we share powers, sort of.
I see the blade jiggle through the mattress, desperate to be free. It stops and sticks halfway out. I frown, trying again. I buckle to my knees when the exhaust hits me. Too much. Not in good practice. I haven't used my power this much this often. I've rarely used it, come to think it.
Shakily, I pull out my phone and dial Sam's number. I know calling Dean won't get me anywhere, so why waste the time?
Shockingly, I get Sam's voicemail.
"Sam, hey, can you help me out? I'm stuck in my room at the bunker...under a Devil's trap. Dean, uh, must've somehow drawn it on the ceiling in his spare time. I can't exactly break it. If you could help me, that'd be great." I end the call, frowning. Sam's never done that to me. He must not have his phone on him.
I sigh dramatically. It looks like it's just me and my magic to get me through this at this point. Putting a hand to my head, the other reaches towards the angel blade again. Again, it wiggles, slowly pulling itself out from under the mattress. I bite down on my tongue. Come on, come on.
It's a struggle just to get the damn thing out. When it's released, it shoots out and nearly crushes my face. Reflexively, with new fire, I duck and catch the hilt of the angel blade in my hand. Awesome. I look up at the Devil's trap on the ceiling. Great. Now I just got to get it up there. It's gonna require a lot of concentration.
For a while, I conserve my energy, chucking the angel blade towards the ceiling and hoping that it chips the trap and not be imbedded in the ceiling. A lot of the times I miss my multiple marks. If only I knew spells to remove it, this would be so much easier.
I lick my lips impatiently. Now I'm getting mad. I still can't move from the trap, and I feel like it's been freaking hours since I got stuck in it to begin with. Don't give up. There's still time. Knowing Dean, he's gotten himself into trouble and bought me some time. He'll leave me a Styne or two to kill. I want the one who murdered Charlie most of all. He's the big prize at the end of the tunnel.
My ears pick up the bunker door opening.
"Sam?" I yell, my voice travelling outside of my room. I get no answer. "Dean?"
Something tells me that my brothers, or even Cas, aren't here in the bunker with me.
Okay, no more shitting around. Determined to get the trap off the ceiling, I use the same energy to maneuver the angel blade to the ceiling. It amazes me how it takes a fire inside of me to make anything really happen.
With caution, I get the blade scraping on the ceiling, destroying the magic of the Devil's trap above my head. I smirk, letting the blade drop back down into my hand. Awesome. Time to investigate. I tuck the blade away in a pocket loop, I know I'm gonna need it.
I navigate through the halls, back to the bunker library. I can hear them, they don't speak. But they sound like they're moving things around. Yeah, I'll bet my powers that's not Sam and Dean.
As I listen closer, I know that whoever's in here are intruders. I can hear them, they're wrecking the library. I don't hear voices, but I have a good guess as to who decided to grow a pair and try and trash the bunker. So they've decided to go on the offensive.
Their backs are to me as I peek into the library. It's completely unrecognizable. Books are pulled from the shelves and gathered in a heap on one of the tables, no doubt a burn pile. I see only two Stynes here. Two against one. This won't be an issue for me. I've got powers that they'll never have.
I'm gonna tear them apart.
I smell something: gasoline. The pile they've complied is about to be set on fire. Not today.
I fling the younger Styne across the room with a flick of my hand. I send him into the nearest wall, he cowers as I enter the library. The older Styne turns to me. I wrinkle my nose as I see he got himself a new left arm—its stitching is visible.
"You," I snarl. I'm facing the same man who ended Charlie's life
"I remember you," he says, a big smirk on his face. "I should've killed you."
I flash my true eyes at him. "Takes the proper weapon to kill me, bucko. You and I have some unfinished business."
"Do we?"
"You took someone from me. It's only fair I take your life for hers."
"Who? The red-headed bitch?"
"Her name was Charlie." The lights flicker above.
"You've got a temper on you. Alright, Black Eyes, let's finish this."
I don't make it easy for him, I go charging. We go the traditional hand-to-hand combat style, with him having an upper hand in strength. He knocks me aside a few times, but I come right back with punches so strong I send him to the floor. When I get the chance to, I see the boy watching, not moving a muscle. Good, I need to deal with him separately.
As much blood that's pouring from the Styne's nose, he's not going down. He's not going down for the count, which sends me into an angry rage. I charge like a bull, my mind set on one image: Charlie. Charlie, dead in the tub. Charlie, soaked in her own blood.
"I'm gonna end you," the Styne hisses in my face. He's got one of my fists in his large hand. "First it'll be you, and then your friends."
I elbow him with my free arm, dislodging him from me. I go for his face but feel something sharp come into my gut. I look down, seeing a blade in me. I'm not shorting out, though. This isn't a demon knife. Instead of doubling over in pain, I laugh. The twisted smile comes onto my face.
"That the best you got, buttercup?" Grabbing his hand, I pull the blade out from my body. Yes, it does hurt, but if I was human, I would be dying right now. Being a demon has its perks. "Like I said, I don't go down easy." With a battle cry, I kick out, forcing him to stumble back.
"You know, it was a mistake to let you go the first round," Styne hisses. "This time, I don't think I'll make that mistake again." He lunges for my angel blade, and I hit him hard across the face before he can reach it. "I know what can hurt you, Black Eyes."
"I'll make sure to use this on your friend once I end you." I twirl the blade in my hand.
Like before, it's a battle of speed and strength. I have the upper hand until Styne wrestles the angel blade from me. With a combo of the blade and his body, he has me thrown into a wall, bloody and cut up. I cough and spit out the blood that gathers in my mouth.
Just as Styne goes for me, we hear stumbling footsteps coming from the stairwell of the bunker. We both look. A third goon comes stumbling in, collapsing against a wall. A knife is lodged in his back.
"Roscoe?" asks the older Styne. Roscoe hits the floor.
Another pair of feet walk in.
Dean, stone-faced and blood spattered, enters the library arena.
**The suspense!!!!
Let's see how it all falls, shall we?**