trans_9 | Ain't No Grave Can Hold My Body Down [Closed]

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Ain't No Grave Can Hold My Body Down [Closed]

Dean had made sure to keep himself to the house. He was too worried about the next time he'd lose more memories to do much on the house expansions for now. It meant he spent his time pacing around like a caged tiger.

And then things shifted again. His hair became more mussed up, and his hands looked abraded and bleeding, like somebody who had to claw out of a coffin and the ground. He glanced around, trying to realize where he was. It wasn't Bobby's, and yet it seemed familiar. Everything was mixed up.

Sammy, he had to find his brother. Had to see him again after so long.

(ooc: closed, but open to anybody who'd be by the house or know the Winchesters well.)

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Dean slowly looked around more with continuing confusion on his face. Safe. That doesn't exist. Never existed for the likes of them, not really.

Maybe this was the new game, get him to lower his guard. Make him more weak. He did grab the blanket, and latched onto with both hands. He then started to twist it around and around to make it a taut like rope.

The thing about Kang didn't make any sense either, but his eyes scanned more, trying to see where he was.

The confusion twisted Sam's stomach. He somewhat expected it, but it was still difficult to watch.

Especially when Dean started twisting the blanket. He kept an eye on that, glad enough that Dean wasn't Alastair's apprentice right now.

Sam glanced up to where Kang was, uncertain. With Dean's current mindset, Kang could easily break his mind. And while it would fix itself when he went back again, who knew how long that would take?

Dean's eyes followed Sam's gaze, and he slowly got up for a better look, eyes narrowing. He then turned back to Sam and growled, "Think I don't know this game?"

He leapt out to attack and loop the rope around his neck.

"Should've kept your knives if you were going carve out my organs today, demon boy."

Damn it. Sam knew better than to do that and he still had. On the other hand, it was still Dean and he still knew how to fight with his brother if it was necessary.

Right now, it was necessary.

He rolled with the attack, getting his hands up to push the tightly wound rope away from his throat. He also brought his knees up, keeping his legs between himself and Dean's body.

While Kang was a bit offended by being called part dragon, he stayed quiet about it, and tried to look as non-threatening as possible. He almost wished he was able to cast polymorph, even if he did hate the idea of being in a human body again; it would make this situation easier.

"No one's carving anyone up, Dean. I know it's hard to believe, but I'm your friend. You're not in hell right now. You've been out for a while. And I'm not a demon, despite the way I look," he carefully took one step forward, ready to step in if Sam needed the help.

Dean struggled to tighten the rope, and one of his legs moved out to lash and kick in the leg or side. Depending where he could get an angle in.

"Told you I'm not falling for it! Alastair! Call your fucking dogs back, I'm not picking up the knife!"

He was going to be bruised in the morning, but it was a small price to pay.

"Dean!" Needed to get some leverage. Needed to get...

"Kang!" Sam put his feet on the floor and bucked. "Flask in the kitchen! And salt!" Do something that Dean knew meant he wasn't a demon. Or that Kang wasn't a demon, either. "Please!"

Okay, there were some demons that were strong enough not to be bothered by either, but Dean didn't know about that and he could use that to his advantage.

Nodding, Kang hesitated only a moment before heading into the kitchen and grabbing both. He came back out and showed both items to Dean, "Look, we can prove it. Holy water and salt. Let him go."

Dean stopped for a moment, moving the blanket rope away. He still kept a grip on it with one hand before he reached out tentatively to taste the salt. Tasted real.

He then gave both of them distrustful looks.

"Well?"

Oh, thank God. Sam laid back for a moment, panting to get his breath back before he rolled up to his feet and took the flask from Kang. He took a moment, murmuring the Latin over it as an extra blessing. Also to prove to Dean that it was holy water. Then he took the salt, not bothering to measure it. Just dumped a good amount in before closing the flask and shaking it.

Once that was done, he opened it and took a swig, face twisting up not in pain but distaste. "Oh God, that's nasty."

Shaking himself, he offered the flask to Kang.

Kang grabbed the flask and took a drink as well, shaking his head with a snort of disgust, "There. We're not demons, and that's really your brother." His wings rustled, and he took a step back, to sit in one of the chairs.

Dean only briefly glanced at Kang because it was just too damn confusing to equate what the hell he was at the moment. At least Sam was familiar. He peered closer, still keeping a distance from them.

"...Sammy?" Not even attempting to keep the cracked broken tone out of his voice.

The tone made Sam pause a moment, heart clenching. He really, really wanted Alastair somewhere he could kill the bastard again.

"Yeah," he said after a moment. He didn't approach. Not until Dean looked more ready to accept it. "Yeah, it's me, Dean. I swear, you're safe. Or, at least, not in Hell." Which was safe enough, wasn't it?

Dean blinked, his eyes peering between them both now.

"...How did I get out?"

His eyes then widened, "Dammit, Sam, you didn't! I told you no deals to get me out!"

"No deals." Sam held out his hands. Not that he hadn't tried. That wasn't important right now, but anybody who knew him had to guess he would have tried. "Think back to what I was saying earlier. About the ship? We were pulled from our worlds to fight aliens. Which...is about as crazy as it sounds, really."

He kept back, not wanting to approach unless Dean wanted him to. "You haven't been in Hell for years, though. Right now, you're regressing back through the years because of an alien artifact that's somehow turning back time."

Dean nodded because it sounds crazy. The regressing part sounds vaguely familiar, like Sam's said it before. But he really did get out? Years before? How the hell?

"You know most of this ain't a shit all of sense?"

Sam snorted, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, believe me. It doesn't exactly make a lot of sense to me, either. But I've been seeing the results right in front of me."

Dean slowly sank into another chair. His gaze flickered toward Kang again, studying him. It was odd how he seemed familiar and yet not at the same time.

"We got any idea how to stop this uh regression crap?"

Kang relaxed, crossing his arms over his chest with a snort, "None yet. But, the sooner the better."

Sam wasn't sitting down yet, but that was more because he was feeling the need to move too much. "Command's got all the brightest in the crew on it. They'll figure it out soon, I'm sure."

They better. He was trying not to think too far ahead.

"Yeah better be soon," he was wondering how much time he had on this, and further more, oh man, he hoped to God none of the kids were affected. They didn't have much time to work with as it was. Plus this was helping him bury the Hell memories to give him something else to focus on.

"How many got hit with this? Any of the kids?"

"One or two human teenagers got hit, but that's the youngest I know of. People are regressing at different rates, too." Kang said.

"With luck, maybe it goes slower the younger you get." He really, really hoped so. "I mean, not that you weren't a cute little kid, I'm sure." Sam's memories didn't start until about age four, so he couldn't remember Dean as being really little.

"It better." He didn't want it get to the point of casualties from this. Dean didn't care that much about himself getting progressively younger, other than being in Hell again that is. But what was worse would be innocent lives affected and he couldn't even do anything to help.

"Dude, I'm adorable," he smirked at Sam.

At least Dean didn't remember the stuff that he had done later on in Hell now. One of the few good things about this. Though this was going to get weirder the younger that Dean got.

"Dude, you wish." He rolled his eyes, though was privately a little relieved that some of Dean's personality was showing through again. Much easier to deal with.

For certain values of 'much easier', at least.

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Ain't No Grave Can Hold My Body Down [Closed]

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