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Chapter 5
Welcome Back to the Fight

The bad thing about having Pops back, John mused the next morning, was the fact that he and Bobby could tag-team John on the question of rest. They were wholly unmoved by his plea that he had to get up and get moving because Mary needed rescuing (and damn, it was hard not to count hours and run the conversion and dwell on the fact that every day wasted was four months Downstairs). Rufus and Caleb were running down leads in Normal, Bobby assured him as they practically force-fed him breakfast, and would have an answer on where to go next before John and Pops could even get down there. Then Pops sent John back to bed and threatened to tie him up and sit on him if he didn’t obey, and Bobby brought a coil of rope up from the basement before John could finish arguing that he was fine.

He even had to submit to the indignity of having his temperature taken. Fortunately, Bobby had gotten the digital under-tongue kind the last time Sammy had a cold, and even more fortunately, John’s fever was still in the low-grade range at only 99.5°. Even so, Pops refused to let John do anything but nap until they knew where they were going.

Rufus called mid-morning to report that the insurance investigation gambit they’d run had hit pay dirt. Larry Ganem, the guy who’d given Pops the box, was still alive and hiding out in Lebanon, KS. But Bill Harvelle could get there twice as fast as John could, so Pops called and talked to Larry to let him know Bill was coming. Pops figured, rightly, that Larry wouldn’t explain things over the phone. After he’d hung up from talking with Larry, Pops insisted on eating lunch first, and only then would he agree to leave.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” he asked as he followed John to the Impala.

Yes, Pops, I’m sure,” John snapped. “Just get in.”

Pops got in and didn’t try to talk him out of going 80 wherever he could get away with it.

They met Bill and Larry at a café in downtown Lebanon, where Larry finally explained (in Latin!) that the box held a key to some treasure trove of knowledge that was someplace nearby. But he insisted that Pops throw the key into the place and walk away. “Better that it all be lost,” Larry insisted, “than let Abaddon get any of it.”

John opened his mouth to object, but Pops put a hand on his arm, shook his head, and made some vague promise about not letting anything fall into the wrong hands. Then the food came, and that ended that part of the conversation.

After Bill had left to take Larry home, however, Pops sighed. “He has a point—but he’s wrong about the key.”

John raised an eyebrow. “So you’re disobeying your elder?”

Pops smiled. “Better to lock Hell, wouldn’t you say?”

John grinned.

Bill met them at the coordinates Larry had given them and kept a lookout while John and Pops went inside for a moment. Then John sent Bill on his way with greetings for the boys while Pops took a moment to get over the lack of anybody at the bunker, and then they set about finding the ingredients for the Reaper summoning spell. Once they found what the notes said they needed, Pops insisted that they eat again and sleep—and slipped John a mickey so he couldn’t object. So it was the next morning, after breakfast, before they took everything to a park about half a mile from town. Pops carried the summoning paraphernalia to a picnic table while John armed himself with the Colt, the demon-killing knife, and the remaining angel sword.

As they worked together on setting up the spell, John said, “Now, Pops, it’s probably gonna take you three days to get up to the right spot in Maine to meet me when I come out.”

Pops blinked. “Maine? Won’t the Reaper bring you back here?”

“Most likely not. My source said not to plan on it. The directions are in the glove box.” John handed him the car keys.

Pops sighed. “All right. I may have to trade in some of the gold that’s in the safe to have enough cash.”

“Don’t.” John handed him a fistful of fake credit cards. “Use these. You max out one, use cash and then switch to another.”

“How will I know when I’ve maxed one out?”

“The cashier will tell you it’s been declined. And don’t worry about what your signature looks like; you’ll be gone before they can look for you anyway.”

“If you insist. But John—”

“I know. It’s just faster this way.” And before Pops could object again, John lit the match and performed the summoning.

The Reaper who appeared initially looked like an old man until John mentioned that he was looking for one who went by Tessa. Then it shifted into the form of a lovely young woman with dark hair and serious grey eyes. “Most people don’t ask for Reapers by name even when they do summon one,” she said. “Why would you ask for me?”

“I’m told you’re trustworthy,” John replied. “And I need a favor.”

“Unless it regards the life or death of a loved one, I’m not sure what kind of favor I can do for you.”

“I need a way to get into Purgatory. Alive.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “A living human wants to go to the monsters’ afterlife?”

“Only the first stop. I’m told there’s a back door into Hell there.”

She studied him for a moment, then sighed. “I can get you in, but from there you’re on your own. I can’t risk upsetting the natural order by doing more.”

John nodded. “I figured that would be your answer. And I have planned accordingly.”

“Are you sure you’re fully prepared? Humans were never meant to set foot in Purgatory.”

“I’ve got good intel. I’m sure.”

“Very well, then. We should do this immediately.”

John nodded again, said goodbye to Pops, and followed Tessa a short way into the woods. “One more thing,” he said as they approached what appeared to be their destination. “I’ll be bringing a soul out with me. I’d appreciate it if you could see to it that she gets to Heaven in one piece.”

She frowned. “I can’t deliver souls to any place they weren’t meant to go.”

“This soul’s innocent. She was dragged to Hell by a demon.”

“Who is it?”

“Mary Winchester.”

She inhaled sharply. “I’d heard something along those lines, but I hadn’t put two and two together. Yes, I’ll be glad to see that she’s out of danger.”

“Thanks. If all goes well, we’ll be in Clayton, LA, in six days’ time.”

“Louisiana?”

“May have a favor to do for someone else.”

“So you know where the escape hatch is.”

“Where it comes out, yeah.”

She nodded slowly. “All right, then. I’ll check on you in Maine in case the favor isn’t required, but you’ll probably only see me in Louisiana.”

He nodded once. “Fair enough.”

With that, she turned to a large tree and studied it for a moment. “This will do. Take my hand.”

Swallowing hard, he took her hand. The tree in front of them seemed to melt and swirl in the middle until a blinding light enveloped them for a moment. When the light faded, they were in a completely different forest, where the light was so blear that the entire world seemed almost monochrome.

“This is Purgatory?” he asked.

“Unfortunately. Follow the stream to where three trees meet as one. Just beyond them, there’s a pile of rocks that blocks the portal to Hell.”

“Got it. Thanks, Tessa.”

“Thank me in Clayton,” she replied with a wry chuckle and vanished.

John took a deep breath and started toward the sound of water he could hear but not see. He found the stream easily enough, but no sooner had he reached it than he was attacked by something that looked like a rugaru. The angel sword made short work of it, but the creature shrieked as it died, and soon John was surrounded by all kinds of monsters and found himself with his back braced against a tree as he fought just to stay on his feet.

And then he became aware of one monster beheading others right and left, cutting a swath toward him. The burly male was wearing a dark blue pea coat and matching cap, like a sailor, and occasionally bared vampire fangs. Some of the other monsters scattered when this cat showed up, but he and John dispatched the others fairly quickly. When the newcomer killed the last attacker, he stopped and lowered his weapon as he studied John.

As soon as John had enough breath, he asked, “You Benny Lafitte?”

The vampire blinked, startled, but he wasn’t thrown off for long. He smirked and replied, “Well, maybe I am an’ maybe I ain’t. What’s it to you, human?”

John pushed himself away from the tree with a grunt. “I need a guide. I hear you’re reliable.”

The vampire’s—Benny’s—eyebrows shot up, and he began circling John, considering. “Now just where did you hear that?”

“My source doesn’t matter. What matters is whether you’ll help me.”

“You look like a hunter. Why would you trust me?”

“I don’t. But you’re all I’ve got.”

Benny nodded thoughtfully and came to a stop. “Where you headed?”

“First, I need to find the place where three trees meet as one.”

“All right. Ain’t nothin’ there, but I know where that is. Then?”

“I’m told there’s a portal back to Earth. I’m told you know where that is, too, and I’m also told you want a way through it.”

“Your source talks too much.”

“Listen, Lafitte, under other circumstances, I’d let you rot in here. But if you’ll guide me, I’ll meet your price.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Benny studied him for another moment. “Well, then, I suppose I’d like to know who I’m ferryin’.”

“John Winchester.”

The John Winchester?!”

Now it was John’s turn to blink. “You’ve heard of me?”

Benny laughed. “Came across some new fish a while back, pack o’ ghouls. Man, they was cussin’ your name to high heaven.”

“Nice to know I’m appreciated.”

Benny laughed again and offered his hand. John stifled his qualms and shook it.

“Three trees in one,” Benny said then, turning to look upstream. “We’re headed thisaway.” And he started off.

“Lay on, Macduff,” John muttered and followed.

As much as John wanted to get to the Hell portal as fast as possible and cursed every wasted minute, he had to confess to himself that Pops had been right about his needing plenty of rest before he got this far. He hadn’t anticipated the intensity of that first attack, and it did set him back on his heels a bit. But Benny’s pace wasn’t fast enough to be problematic, and he wasn’t much of a conversationalist, so John felt somewhat better by the time they caught sight of the conjoined trees. The air was damp and on the cool side of comfortable, too, and that helped a bit with the fever—much more than the sauna of ’Nam would have, for sure.

“Now, just what is it you was lookin’ for here?” Benny asked as they approached the trees.

“That pile of rocks over there,” John replied, pointing to what looked like a bunch of rocks piled up about ten feet high among another group of trees.

Benny looked. “I see ’em. What of it?”

“Need for you to make sure nobody follows me.”

“Follows you? What in tarnation—”

But John ignored him and made his way up to the rock pile. Cautiously he pulled down the big rock at the base, uncovering the Hell portal.

Benny swore. “You ain’t goin’ in there, are you?”

“Just wait here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” And John squeezed through the opening and into Hell.

For one horrible moment, he thought he’d been spit out in Vietnam in ’70.

He knew the smell, the feel, the squelch of the dank earth under his hands and feet. But he realized, as he scrambled out of the side tunnel he’d appeared in, that he hadn’t seen it from this angle firsthand in ’70. He had simply inferred quite a lot from the POW camp his squad had reached an hour too late to save anyone.

This region of Hell looked almost exactly like he had imagined that place to look like. As horrific as the Hanoi Hilton had been, it had at least been above ground. The camp John’s squad had tried to liberate had been underground to escape detection, a network of tunnels with individual cells dug into the walls, barely large enough for the men to move around in. There was no ventilation, no sanitation, no room even to stand. This version was still intact, but it seemed ready to flood or collapse if John so much as looked at it wrong; the NVA had done both to the real camp before the Marines could arrive, so all they had been able to do was dig up bodies.

Once John was in the main tunnel, he found the piece of chalk he still had in his pocket and took a moment to mark the beam above the tunnel he’d just come from. Then he made his way through the maze toward a gleam of light that didn’t seem to come from the smoking reddish torches on the walls. He had no guarantee that the light he was seeing was indeed from Mary, but it was the best clue he had. He made sure to mark the pillars he passed so he could find his way back quickly. That left him free to ignore the other souls that called out to him for help as he passed the cells; he didn’t have time to try to remember which freakishly tortured face belonged with which turn in the tunnel, and he couldn’t help anyone else even if he wanted to.

His hunch paid off. The light did turn out to be coming from a cell, and when he looked in the window, even though the soul was collapsed in a bloody heap on the floor, he recognized her immediately.

“Mary?” he whispered.

She stirred. “John?”

“Tomato rice soup,” he replied with the password they’d agreed on.

“Kitchen Sink Stew,” she sighed with the countersign.

“Can you run?”

“Not yet. The door’s... only bolted from that side, but... I need a minute yet.”

“All right. I’ll hold tight.” He drew the Colt and pressed his back against the door.

“How’s your dad?” she asked after a moment.

“Swell. He’s supposed to meet us.”

“Find what he wanted?”

“Yes and no. But he’s safe. Got his attitude adjusted while we were at Bobby’s.”

She chuckled. “With or without buckshot?”

“Without.” But John couldn’t suppress a smile. “’Course, then he took to knocking me out—’s why it took so long to get here.”

“I forgive you.”

“Have, um... have they....”

“John. Don’t ask.”

He sighed. “All right. I won’t.”

They were silent for a long moment—John couldn’t tell whether it was five minutes or five years—and then she kissed the back of his ear through the window. “Okay. I can run.”

He reached back with his left hand to start moving the bolt but froze when he heard raised voices somewhere up ahead.

“I don’t CARE what standard protocol requires now!” one shrieked. “She attacked me; she made me lose track of the box; she has information I need. I torture her, and no one else!”

“Patience, patience, pet,” whined another. “I’ve not had my chance at a soul like hers in eons. I’ll let you watch, but I’ve got to drink her blood myself.”

“I think that one goes by Alastair,” Mary whispered in John’s ear as the voice began rhapsodizing over what he wanted to do to her. “He’s the torture-master.”

John swallowed back the bile and slid the bolt back as quietly as he could.

“And I’m telling you she’s mine,” rasped another demon’s voice, cutting off the second. “She was always my favorite. I’d have taken her long ago were it not for Lord Lucifer’s instructions. Now that she’s here—”

“Which she shouldn’t be, mate,” interrupted a fourth voice. “That deal laid no markers on her soul. You’ve no claim on her. In fact, none of you lot have any claim on her.”

“Crowley,” the first and second voices growled in discordant chorus.

John eased the door open behind him, and Mary slipped out as soon as she had enough space to do so.

“I’m aware Your Lownesses all outrank me,” returned the fourth, British-sounding voice with no little sarcasm. “But Lilith herself placed me in charge of the Crossroads division, and it’s only at her order that I’ve held my peace about these deals Azazel’s been making behind my back. I can’t stand by and let you exceed those terms. No matter how the soul came to be here, the fact remains that this wasn’t to be her destination. Torturing her on top of that... well, it’s bad for business, innit?”

“Your sales figures don’t concern me, tailor,” the third voice hissed. “You can have all that out with Abaddon and Alastair. I’m taking my pleasure with her now, and you can’t stop me.”

Mary’s trembling hand landed on John’s shoulder as footsteps began coming toward them.

“Don’t move until I say ‘Go,’” John breathed.

She squeezed his shoulder once and held still.

Something came around the next bend in the tunnel, about a hundred yards away. John couldn’t really see it, only that it was there, and he thumbed back the Colt’s hammer as quietly as he could. The thing—the demon—came just within range before it finally looked up and paused, startled.

Its eyes were solid yellow. And John put a bullet squarely between them.

The gun’s report was nearly deafening in the confined space, though the earthen walls dampened the sound to some degree. But there was no way the other demons could have missed hearing either it or the yellow-eyed demon’s dying cries. John snatched the knife out of his belt, handed it to Mary, and yelled, “GO!”

Miraculously (or maybe not), the tunnel suddenly got tall enough that John and Mary could run. John kept his eye on their six while Mary held his hand and followed the markings toward the exit. They reached the right spot just as a cloud of demons began to converge on them from each direction, and John pushed Mary through the opening and let her pull him through.

Before he could even bark an order, Benny was already rolling the stone back into place to block the opening. John stowed the Colt and started to offer to help, but Benny’s vampire strength sufficed to get the stone placed before it shuddered from the force of the demons slamming into it from the other side. They all watched warily as it shook again and again but did not fall. Finally, after about the fourth attempt, there was a long moment of calm.

Benny pressed his ear against the rocks. “That’s it,” he announced after a moment. “Ain’t no more comin’.”

John and Mary hugged each other tightly in relief.

Benny cleared his throat. “Ain’t nobody gonn’ introduce me?”

John released Mary. “Honey, this is Benny Lafitte. Benny, my wife Mary.”

Mary visibly steeled herself and held out a hand. “We appreciate your help, Mr. Lafitte.”

But Benny, suddenly every inch the Southern gentleman, doffed his cap and bowed as he took Mary’s hand and kissed it gently. “My honor, pleasure, and privilege, ma’am,” he replied. “But we better not hang around here too long.”

“Understood. Lead the way.”

Benny put his hat back on, picked up his obsidian-and-bone weapon, and pointed their new direction. “This way.”

“Why was Abaddon there?” John asked Mary as they started off.

Mary sighed. “I fought her all the way down and then some. When she finally overpowered me, she was so incensed that she took her time carving me up. Then several other high-ranking demons showed up for a shouting match, and by the time they were all done with that... well, I suppose you were at Bobby’s already or something. Whatever the case was, Henry did something to hide himself from her, and all her leads came up cold. So she came back and tried to make me talk.”

“But there was some talk of a deal. You... you never....”

“Not a crossroads deal, but... there... there was one.”

John froze. “What?”

Mary started to cry. “Azazel killed you, and then he said he’d bring you back if I gave him permission to enter the house. He wouldn’t tell me why. He just s-said... if I didn’t interrupt... no one would get hurt.”

John’s shock was broken only by another onslaught of the monsters that flew through the air as black liquid and took human form when they landed—Leviathan, Benny called them. John still hadn’t figured out what to say by the time they fought free and could stop running.

“I don’t mean to butt in where I ain’t wanted, John,” Benny drawled then, “but it seems to me as Miss Mary done overpaid for whatever crime you think she committed with that deal.”

John started to object, but then he remembered what had happened to the idiot who hadn’t escaped the hellhounds during the first trial, and he remembered the far worse way Mary had died. And even Alastair and Crowley had acknowledged that Mary was innocent and didn’t belong in Hell. He sighed and tried to wipe away the fresh tears that were streaking through the grime on Mary’s face. “I suppose you’re right.”

Mary sniffled and tried to smile. “Thank you.”

“But Mary, do you have any idea what Azazel had wanted?”

She shook her head. “Whatever he was doing in Sammy’s room, he was finished by the time I went back to confront him.”

“We’d best keep movin’, y’all,” Benny prompted, and they followed without another word.

It was a long hike to the portal. Time seemed to be fluid in Purgatory, but John thought he counted at least two nights, which he assumed was time enough for Pops to get to Maine to meet them. And throughout the trek, Benny kept watch while John and Mary rested and helped them keep predators at bay. As much as John still hesitated to bring a vampire back to life, he had to admit that Benny had upheld his end of the bargain.

So after he had performed the spell to embed Mary’s soul in his left arm, he handed the knife to Benny. “You’re a creature of your word,” he said. “So am I.”

Benny cut his arm and handed the knife back. “Best make it quick. Somebody’s liable to try an’ stop you.”

John cut his right arm and performed the spell, then ran full tilt for the portal. The trees rustled with attackers as he approached, but he had built up enough speed to dive through before he could be caught.

When he rolled to his feet, Pops was running toward him. John stood still and pulled Pops into a hug when he got close enough.

“Did it work?” Pops asked as he backed away. “Did you find her?”

John nodded. “Got her and the guy we need to take to Louisiana.”

“Good, good. I’ve got a tent right here; it’s warded. Come eat something. It’s about a mile back to the car.”

“Been waiting long?” John asked as he followed Pops to the tent.

“About a day. I didn’t know how long you would be, so I hadn’t started worrying yet.”

John didn’t call him on that one, just smiled to himself and let Pops fuss over him and tell him all about his adventures in shopping for clothes and camping gear at Walmart. After they’d eaten, they took down the camp and hiked back to the car, then switched off driving to get to Clayton as quick as possible.

Both Benny and Dean’s notes had given very clear directions on where to find Benny’s grave, and between them, John and Pops made short work of uncovering the bones. John’s arm was glowing painfully now that Benny’s soul sensed its proximity to his remains, so it was something of a relief to perform the spell to reunite soul and body. It still went against his hunter instincts to unleash a monster he’d thought was extinct, but he didn’t have a lot of choice.

Once Benny was vertical but while John was still catching his breath, Pops introduced himself to Benny and said, “I have a couple of messages for you from an anonymous friend.”

Benny looked puzzled. “Oh?”

“Firstly, if you find yourself in need of a nest, look in Montana for a vampire named Lenore. She and her nest consume only animal blood; they should be able to support you.”

Benny looked even more puzzled. “Now, why in the hell should I need a nest?”

“Well, that’s the second message. The Old Man turned Andrea.”

John hadn’t thought a vampire could pale, but Benny certainly did. “No,” he breathed, his eyes filled with grief. “Oh, no, no, no.”

Pops actually looked compassionate. “Your source said maybe Lenore could help you convince Andrea to leave feeding on humans.”

Benny drew a ragged breath and nodded. “I... I hear you. I’ll s-see if I can find the lady. Thank you.” Then he turned to John and offered his hand. “John. Don’t suppose I’ll be seein’ you.”

“Not if all goes well,” John replied. “You just keep your head down—oh, and steer clear of Manning, CO. There’s a vampire expert there.”

“Elkins?”

“Elkins.”

Benny nodded. “Heard of him. Thanks.” And with a final farewell nod, he left.

Once he was out of human earshot, John turned to Pops and murmured, “You read those papers?”

“Well, you didn’t have any books in the car,” Pops replied with an innocent look that told John exactly where both Sammy and Dean had gotten theirs.

John didn’t have time to be either annoyed or amused, however, because Tessa appeared. “You are indeed a man of your word, John,” she said. “I have come to keep mine.”

John nodded and released Mary, who flowed skyward out of his arm in a blue-white glowing cloud. Tessa vanished, and the cloud’s progress sped up until it evidently reached the threshold of Heaven, at which point it flashed as if in farewell and disappeared.

Pops rubbed John’s arm gently. “Better finish it, son.”

John pulled himself together, nodded, and recited the Enochian incantation. He was better prepared for the impact of the power that slammed into him this time, but it still drove him to his knees and burned its way up his left arm. But as badly as it left him reeling, he couldn’t help feeling relieved as Pops hauled him to his feet and bundled him into the car. He hated losing Mary yet again—but at least this time he knew she was safe.



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