Incantations In The Night
Note: I had an account several months ago, but stuff happened and it was deleted. I managed to save a few of the stories I wrote, so here’s one of my favorites! Hope y’all enjoy it!
Warnings: demon possession, blood, detailed injuries, minor language, drama, emotional, and mentions of kidnappings…. just be warned!
Characters: Dean x Reader, and Sam:)
I shrug, still thumbing through the large book of folklore. Dean slams the fridge door and walks into the living room, arms crossed in front of him.
“I’m only gonna ask one more time.”
“And I’m only gonna deny it one more time.” I retort, which makes Dean narrow his eyes. He comes to stand in front of me.
“Y/N, did you eat the rest of the pie?”
I’m trying very hard not to look at him, but his green eyes are like magnets and they draw my gaze upward. He nods slowly.
“You did, you little liar.”
“Pretty little liar.” I mutter. At his puzzled look, “You know, with the pretty cursive writing and all the mayhem- you know what, never mind.”
“You scare me sometimes.”
“Says the guy who watches General Hospital.”
“You’re distracting me.” Dean waves his hands in the air as if wiping away the words. “You ate the last of the pie, and you lied about it.”
“So the way I see it, you only have two options.”
“One, you have to buy drinks tonight; or two, you have to go buy more pie.”
“Weighing my options- and my wallet, I’m gonna go with number two.” I stretch out my hand, flexing my fingers in a ‘gimme-gimme’ gesture.
Dean reaches into his pant pockets and pulls out his keys. He drops them in my hand.
“Obey the speed limits and do not stay on the gas until you hit the curb.”
“Bye, Dean!” I laugh, slamming the door behind me. The Impala is sitting in the parking lot, her black paint shining in the sun. I slide into the driver’s seat, the leather bench seat creaking pleasantly under my weight. Turning the key, the engine roars to life. I grip the steering wheel. Dean has just started to let me drive Baby, and I’m super excited about it. Not just about driving the car, but the fact that Dean trusts me. And that we’re deep enough in our relationship for this.
I head to the market with a smile on my face and Alannah Myles singing Black Velvet on the radio.
Forty-five minutes later, I park the Impala outside the hotel and grab the two paper bags from the back seat. I’m feeling good with my trip and know that the boys will be too. Balancing a bag on each arm, I walk to our room. I pause at the door to free one of my hands when I hear voices coming from inside.
“So, things seem to be going pretty good for you two.” Oh boy, Sam’s digging, I can hear it in his voice.
“Just curious what your plans are.”
The couch creaks and an empty beer bottle clinks. “What’s your point, dude?”
“Come on, Dean. You two are great together. I mean, I honestly don’t think you can do any better than Y/N.”
“Great. So, don’t you think it’s time to take the next step?”
“Are you telling me to propose?”
Dean laughs, but it’s a sarcastic one. I’m glued to the spot, unable to walk in or walk away.
“You’re out of line, Sammy.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I just thought you should know that I approve. We haven’t really gotten a chance to talk about- you know, a future- and I wanted you to know how I feel about it.”
“Great, thank you. Because that was all I was waiting for. That was the only thing holding me back from asking Y/N to marry me. But now, the way is clear.”
“Dean, what’s the deal? Unless you don’t want to get married- which I wouldn’t believe for a second.”
There’s a loud sigh from Dean and the couch creaks as he stands and begins to pace the floor.
“No, it’s not that. It’s- it’s complicated.”
“Which is usually the case in this family.”
“I mean, come on, Sammy. Y/N doesn’t want to settle down with me. She has dreams. She wants a family. She wants a house. How can I give those to her?”
“Well, the family part, you just climb into-”
“It’s not funny, Sam.” Dean sounds genuinely distressed, which surprises me. I didn’t know this was bugging him. I wouldn’t have told him about my dreams, but he had gotten me drunk and everyone knows I prattle when I’m on alcohol. Sure, I want a family and a place of our own. But I’m not stupid. We’re hunters, first and foremost. I wouldn’t do anything to change that.
“Have you talked to Y/N about it?” Sam is asking.
“No, not yet. I want to- but I know what she’s gonna say. She’s gonna say that it isn’t important, and she can put her dreams aside. I won’t let that happen. She deserves everything she wants and more. I wish I could- I don’t know.”
“You’re not thinking about leaving the family business, are you? Dean, this is what you do. You’ve never done anything else.”
“That’s not true. I’ve worked with Bobby at his place. I know cars. And- hey- what’s about that summer I worked at the Dairy Queen in Lincoln?”
“Dean, you were sixteen.”
“But I have experience. Big time bosses like that kind of thing.”
I turn and hurry back to the car then. I put the bags back in the Impala and get inside. Baby is parked several rows down, so the boys can’t see me from the hotel room.
How can Dean even be considering leaving the family business? Sam’s right. It’s all he’s ever done. He would die if he had to work in an office, or stay in one place for more than a month. He’d grow angry and bitter, and he’d come to blame me for it. Why can’t he see the truth? I want to shake him, slap some sense into him.
I pick up my cell, then put it back down. I want to call Bobby, beg him to help me- but I can’t. No one can know that I was listening in on the boys’ conversation. I feel bad enough with just me knowing.
Somehow, I am gonna have to find a way to change Dean’s mind. To make him see reason.
With this conviction, I gather up the bags and head to the hotel room again. This time, I don’t pause at the door. I bang it with my boot and a moment later Sam has it open.
“I’ve got it.” I push past him and set the bags on the table. “Operation pie retrievement, success.”
“What kind?” Dean has gotten up to stand behind me, looking over my shoulder.
“Apple and cherry. There’s ice cream in that bag, and, Sam, there’s those Nature Valley bars you like right here.”
Sam grins as he accepts the box of granola bars- which are, in my opinion, just pieces of cardboard with nuts in them. Dean takes the pie containers and puts them in the fridge.
“What? You’re not gonna dive in?”
“I’ll eat it later. Sammy’s got a job for us.”
I turn to Sam, now noticing the laptop and books on the table. “Really? What’s the gig?”
Sam picks up a printed paper, holding it up so I can see the picture. “Woman missing for three months found alive.” I lift an eyebrow. “So? She and casanova ran out of money and lies, so she returns home.”
“Not exactly.” Sam rifles through a few more papers, handing me a thick vanilla folder. “Tamera Jackson went missing three months ago. She was married with one child. Family says she was a model wife and mother, and devoted to them both.”
“Even the faithful can fall.” I mutter, sitting down on the couch and opening the file. It’s a police file, detailed down to the letter.
“Yes, but, not Tamera. Up until the day she disappeared, folks said she was perfectly fine. Nothing suspicious, no strange phone calls, no sign of someone trying to contact her.”
“Okay, so she was kidnapped- do they have money?”
“That’s what I said.” Dean grabs one side of the file so we’re both holding it. “Just your typical American family. Mortgage on the house, husband works a fulltime job, the grandparents even had to step in and help with the kid’s schooling.”
“Okay, so we’re not dealing with a ransom.”
“No, but you were close with the kidnapping thing.” Dean turns the pages to several pictures of the woman after she was found. “She shows up at her doorstep last week. These pics were taken that day when one of the neighbors called the cops, reporting a strange woman loitering around the place.”
“Sissy found her way home.” I mutter.
“The cat from Homeward Bound. The three animals that found their way- forget it.”
I pick up one of the photos. A middle aged woman is staring into the camera. Her face looks like someone has used it as a punching bag. Her clothes are filthy and torn, her blonde hair matted and unwashed.
“Wow, not the picture to send into Vogue.”
“Okay, so she was kidnapped and beaten, then she escaped. What does any of this have to do with us?”
“I spoke with the investigating officer, who took her statement.” Sam leans forward in his seat. “Get this: she has no recollection of the past three months.”
“What, like amnesia?” Dean’s frowning.
“They don’t know. All she remembers was waking up in the backseat of a car. She got out and started walking until she got home.”
“This still doesn’t sound like our kind of gig.” I start to close the file, when something catches my eye in the photo.
“I spoke with the husband just a little while ago. She was in town or something, so I haven’t spoken to her yet. But the husband said that she’s different.”
“After what she went through, is that really so surprising?”
“Well, sure, but this stuff doesn’t fit into your usual post trauma. He said that she hardly ever sleeps. He will find her walking around the house, turning on and turning off lights. Even the daughter has sensed a change and asked to go stay with the grandparents.”
“Guys,” I hold up the photo. “do we have a before pic? Before she went missing?”
Sam frowns and sifts through a few papers, pulling out a family picture. “This was taken two months before she went missing.”
I take the photo and hold it against the recent one. Many differences, and the original gal looked so happy and sweet. But my suspicions are raised when I notice that there is no difference between the two’s weight.
“Did the police say if she was abused or anything by her capturers?”
“No, but it’s pretty clear that she was.”
I bite my lip and Dean leans towards me. He studies the pictures, then looks at me.
“Is it just me, or is Tamera the same exact weight she was when she disappeared?”
“Typically in situations like a kidnapping, the victim is either starved or refuses to eat. Anxiety and stress can cause weight loss, and if she was missing for three months, she would have lost an excessive amount of weight.”
“And look at her skin.” I point to her face and arms, tracing the wounds. “Those bruises are brand new. So are the cuts. There are no signs of healing, which means they would have been inflicted in the last four hours before this pic was taken.”
My breath catches, flashbacks blacking out my surroundings. “I’ve seen this before.”
I slam the trunk shut, shoving the pistol into my belt. Check my pockets for salt filled casings, then make sure my iron plated knife is in my boot.
Dean loads the shotgun with salt shells, cocking the barrel in place with a click.
“Are you sure you’re up to this?”
I nod. The boys have been asking me to tell them what had happened to my dad, but I’m not ready. I haven’t moved on from that horrifying experience, and I’m definitely not ready to talk about it.
“Y/N, hold up.” Dean grabs my arm, holding me back as we are about to cross the street. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll be a heck of a lot better once we gank this SOB.”
“Look, I know this means a lot to you. But you’re really in no condition to go in there.”
A part of me want to snap at him, but I know what he’s driving at. Demons tend to posses people who are under a lot of stress or are afraid. Dean’s worried that I’ll be fair game for a new meat suit and he’ll have to take me down with the demon.
I lay a hand against his cheek and offer him a small smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“Just be careful, okay?” He reaches up and pulls my hand over to his lips. He kisses it gently, whispering, “I love you.”
“Hey, lovebirds!” Sam’s loud whisper snaps us back to reality. “We’ve got action.”
A light has turned on in the small house across the road. A figure passes by the window. Dean motions us forward, and we cross the street.
Thankfully, the Jackson’s daughter is staying with the grandparents. It makes me sick to think of a helpless child in the same house as this demon.
Moving as silently as possible, we open up the bag of salt Sam has been carrying and begin to dump its contents at every entrance to the house. Once every window and doorway is salted, we go to the back door. Dean picks the lock and the door swings slowly open.
“Remember, we catch Tamera and trap her.” Dean whispers, tossing a spray can to Sam. “Y/N will exorcise her.”
“Got it.” Sam begins to spray a Devil’s Trap on the ceiling of the kitchen, while Dean and I slip into the living room. There’s a light on in the hall and Dean signals that he is going to check it out. I pull out my pistol, cocking it and holding it in position.
There’s a rush of air behind me, and I whirl around to nothing. A bad feeling starts in my gut. There’s a presence in the room, but I can’t see it.
Dean steps into the hall, and the door slams shut behind him. The door to the kitchen slams and there’s the sound of a lock being turned.
“Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?” Dean’s banging on the door, kicking and ramming his body against it.
It’s dark, and that feeling in my gut is twisting into a nasty fear. I try to steel myself so my fear isn’t noticeable, but a light flicks on behind me.
Tamera is standing next to a lamp, her black eyes reflecting the light. She cocks her head and smiles.
“Of course it’s me. Who else would it be?” She walks in a wide circle around me, her eyes never taking their focus off of me. “Glad we could have a moment to talk alone.”
“You could have just called. You didn’t need to hurt an innocent woman to get close to me.”
“Well, I was going to use your cute boyfriend, but he was- well, not easily accessed.”
I’ve got my pistol trained on Tamera, my finger inches toward the trigger. Tamera’s eyes narrow and I’m flung against the back wall. An invisible force holds me there as she approaches.
“Don’t try that again, little girl.”
The door to the hall bursts open and Dean rushes in, aiming a shot at Tamera. It just misses her and she pins him to the wall.
“Well, well,” Tamera chuckles. “two for the price of one, aren’t I the bargain hunter?”
“What do you want?” I manage. The force holding me is tight and my chest feels like it’s being squeezed.
“I want to finish the job.” Tamera moves in close, her mouth close to my ear. “You see, you were supposed to die a long time ago. And the people upstairs are very upset that you’ve lived this long.”
“You mean downstairs right?”
Tamera ignores me and walks over to where Dean is struggling to free himself. “Cute guy, Y/N. And I’m sure you love him and he loves you, blah, blah, blah. But I’m sensing some doubt. A little fear. A little deceit. I wonder how strong that love is.” She taps her chin with a finger. “I know, let’s see.”
Hot searing pain tears down my side as the flesh is ripped open by something invisible. I scream out loud, the warm blood trickling down my shirt.
“Stop!” Dean cries, fighting against Tamera’s power. “Stop! Don’t hurt her!”
“Aw, do you hear that, Y/N? Pretty boy pleading for your life. I don’t know about you, but I want to hear a little more passion.”
Screams rip through my throat as something sharp tears through my chest, digging deep so I can feel it go through bone.
The pain is overwhelming and I can feel the blood pouring down my body onto the floor. Somewhere in the background, there’s a loud bang and the sound of a gun being fired. The force that’s holding me vanishes and I fall to the ground.
Looking up in a haze, I can see Dean getting up and rushing over to me.
“Hey, hey, oh my gosh. Don’t worry, you’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna get you to the hospital.”
“Tamera. We’ve- got to- finish.”
“Sam will take care of it.”
I shake my head, trying to push myself up. “No, I’ve- got to- do it.”
“Y/N, you’ve lost a ton of blood, there is no way-”
Though everything is slowly spinning like a fun house, I can see Dean’s green eyes looking intently into mine. He presses a kiss to my forehead, his touch warm and gentle.
“Okay, but we’re gonna make this quick.”
Sam has Tamera tied to a chair under the Devil’s Trap. She looks out of it as she sluggishly tries to fight against the iron chains holding her down.
“Dean, what-” Sam’s voice of concern cuts through the nearly crippling pain. “You two should get out of here. I can finish-”
“Look at her, she can’t.”
“I’ve tried, Sammy. She wants to do it.”
Dean’s arm is really the only thing between me and the floor, and I’m beginning to rethink my stubborn decision. Blood is still dripping onto the floor, and it’s really hard to breathe.
But Tamera lifts her head and looks at me, her glossy black eyes looking right through me. Memories of my father’s horrible death give me the needed strength to open my mouth and mutter the words of the exorcism.
“Regna terrae, cantata Deo, psallite Cernunnos,”
Tamera jerks in the chair, screaming in rage. She thrashes and shrieks curses at us.
“Exorcizamus you omnis immundus spiritus,”
“You filthy SOB,” Tamera hisses at me. “Think you can destroy me? Think again you little-”
“Ut coven tuam secura tibi libertate servire facias-” I choke a little, tasting blood. Dean’s grip tightens around my waist and he’s sending Sam panicked looks.
Tamera is smirking, her face swimming before my eyes. I gag on the blood welling up in my throat.
“Stop! What are you doing to her?” Dean cries as my knees buckle.
“I’m not doing anything, you idiot. She’s dying.”
“Y/N, let Sam finish it.”
I shake my head, struggling to recall the next words in the incantation.
“That’s it.” Dean starts to gather me in his arms. “Sam, finish this-”
“Doesn’t work that way.” comes a sing-song voice from the chair. Tamera is grinning and no longer struggling against her bonds. “Only the person who starts the incantation can finish it.”
Dean looks to his younger brother and Sam nods. “She’s right, Dean. Y/N is the only one who can finish it.”
“She’s never gonna make it.” Tamera’s sings.
Dean’s hand lifts my face close to his. “Come on, baby, you’ve gotta do this.”
I try to hold up my own head, but it feels so heavy on my neck. It’s hard to draw a breath now and everyone seems so far away.
“Baby, please, you can do this. Please, just a few more words.”
I close my eyes, seeing the words on the page of the book of prayers I’ve been studying since I was five. Taking a ragged breath, I whisper,
“Come on, you can do this!”
“Benedictus Dea,” I choke, the blood running down my chin. “Matri gloria.”
Tamera shrieks and a cloud of black smoke erupts from her mouth. The demon cloud swirls upward, trapped within the Devil’s Trap. In a flash of red light, the demon is gone.
“You did it! You did it, baby!” Dean touches his forehead to mine.
“Let’s get her out of here.” Sam opens the back door as Dean picks me up in his arms. They run across the street, every jolting movement bringing on a new wave of pain.
Sam climbs in the front, while Dean sits in the back seat, stilling holding me in his arms. My head is resting against his shoulder, my blood staining his grey t-shirt dark red.
“Step on it, Sam.” Dean barks. He smooths back my hair, his thumb caressing my cheek. “Hang on, Y/N. Stay with me.”
I’m still gagging on blood which is blocking my airway. I’m so scared.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay, baby.”
“I know. We’re almost there. Just hang on. Dang it, Sammy, go faster!”
A shadow falls over us. It’s hard to see, and I can only see Dean’s outline.
“Y/N! No! No, stay with me! Look at me, baby.”
“I’m right here. You stay with me, alright?”
Complete and utter darkness.
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