Apocalypse

Chapter Four – Trials of Fire

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything from Supernatural, and I’m not making any money from this fic. The plot of this story belongs to me, I guess. Any character you don’t recognise from the show, I probably own. Anything you recognise from another fandom, I don’t own

Warning(s): Strong violence; swearing; spoilers for the entirety of season one and much of season two; character hurt

Author’s Note: Thank you to everyone who’s left a review for this so far . Each one really means a lot to me. I hope you all enjoy this latest chapter!

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Iona shrugged slightly to Dean’s question. “Um… a year ago, maybe,” she tried. “It was really weird. I suddenly realised I wasn’t like any of my friends – that I’m a freak.” She glanced down a moment.

Dean frowned, and then crouched down in front the little girl, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Now you listen to me,” he told her. “You’re not a freak. Whoever tells you that are liars or don’t know what they’re talking about, all right?”

Iona looked slightly taken aback by Dean’s words, but she nodded slowly. “All right…”

“Good.” Dean lightly patted the kid’s shoulder, and then slowly straightened up again. “I need to take care of organising everything. If it’s all right with you, I might need your help with seeing what some of the others are thinking. Just in case one of them is thinking of something that might be important – but they don’t think it would be.” Or in case they’re lying, he added silently.

“I want to help,” Iona answered.

“Great.” Dean walked over to where Jake was talking with some people, but slowed his steps so that Iona could keep up without difficulty.

Jake glanced up as Dean and Iona walked over, and nodded slightly to the man, although it was more mocking than really respectful. “What can I do for you?” the doctor asked, tilting his head slightly.

Iona frowned up at Dean, but didn’t say anything, and quickly returned her gaze to Jake again. She started biting at a nail.

Dean struggled to keep his calm, knowing that he would just make things worse if he snapped back at Jake. Sooner or later, though, he was going to have to have a word with the other man. If they were going to survive the demons, they really needed to learn to work as a team. And that meant everyone – not just a select few, or even most of them. What’s his problem with me anyway? Dean wondered.

Oh, well. It wasn’t like Dean was going to work that out on his own. He crossed his arms over his chest, and answered, “We need to talk about any more skilled workers you may have found. At this stage, anything could be of use.” He kept his tone cool and firm, not wanting to get into an argument right now.

Jake shrugged. “Well, apart from who I told you about before – we have a couple of psychiatrists. There’s a builder and a sculptor, as well as a receptionist. There are also one or two police officers, as well as someone who worked in a crime lab.”

“What do people do in crime labs?” Iona asked innocently.

Can’t she read his mind? Dean wondered. Or maybe he’s not thinking about what crime lab people do… “They work with things like DNA and fingerprints,” he explained. “You know… crime scenes.” He was trying not to focus on too many details, but it was a little difficult not to. We really need to work on better control for her…

Iona met Dean’s gaze, and then nodded gravely, although she didn’t say anything. She then looked at Jake again.

“We need to start getting people trained in combat,” Dean continued. “I’d like someone to organise everyone into groups – and then they can rotate with being trained in self-defence and foraging skills.”

“What about you?” Jake asked.

Dean shrugged slightly. “I’ve been trained in fighting – and handling firearms – since I was four years old. I also know something of foraging and hunting…” His voice trailed off as the smell of meat cooking met his nose. He breathed it in, and then paused, frowning. “How were they able to make a fire?”

“I have no idea,” Jake answered, turning away. “You can go sort that out – I’ll get on with dividing people into groups.”

Once the doctor was gone, Iona looked up at Dean. “He doesn’t like you,” she commented. “That’s easy to see.”

“I realise that,” Dean replied. “I don’t suppose you could see why he doesn’t like me?” That really would be helpful. If we’re going to be able to find these people – and stand up to the demons – we really need to be able to work together. And finding my brother is the most important thing right now.

Iona shrugged. “I couldn’t see why,” she answered. “It’s not like I have loads of control over this power.” She hesitated a moment, and then asked, “Do I have to train in fighting and self-defence?” She tilted her head slightly to the side, her expression rather serious, but also quite curious.

Dean considered that, and then shook his head. “No,” he replied. “You’re useful with what you can do anyway. We’d be better off having you somewhere you can be easily protected. If you want to train, you can – but you won’t be fighting, or going off on your own.”

“All right,” Iona said, smiling a little.

Dean couldn’t tell if the girl was happy about being able to train, or not having to fight. Maybe a little of both… I wonder how Abby’s doing, he thought. I should find out if she might be one of the kids – like Iona and Abby. He didn’t think it was all that likely, though. Abby’s abilities didn’t seem to be psychic in the same way as the others Dean knew of – such as Sam, Max, and now Iona.

Something suddenly occurred to Dean, and he narrowed his eyes at Iona.

The girl blinked, staring up at him. “What?”

“Do you have a mark on your inner left thigh?” Dean demanded. “You know, like how Abby described?” He knew that Gordon had said that a demon told him the kids like Sam were supposed to be on the side of the demons. But that demon could just as easily have been lying, speaking merely out of desperation.

Or Gordon could have been lying. He wasn’t exactly the most stable of people, after all.

Iona looked into Dean’s eyes for a long moment. Then, she looked away, and heaved a great sigh.

Too late, Dean realised that she must have picked up on his thoughts about the demons and his brother.

“I’m sorry…” Iona whispered, refusing to look at Dean. Before he could ask her what she meant, the girl continued, “I don’t have a mark… But I’m sure your brother wouldn’t be helping the demons.”

Dean just about managed to push down the urge to start cursing. Iona was too young to know even half of the swear words he did. But he had to wonder… She can only read minds, right? So why is she so sure that Sammy wouldn’t be helping the demons? He didn’t mean to let his thoughts sound so accusing. But he was damned if he’d curb his thoughts just to make a kid feel a bit better.

Well, all right – he probably would make more of an effort. But still… It was kind of difficult to word his thoughts so that they were at a PG or G level rather than any higher; especially when it came to his brother.

Iona looked up at Dean, and then away again. “You know, maybe I’m not the only one who has powers here. You should ask some of the others here if they’re anything like me or your brother.”

Good point, Dean thought. He watched Iona for a moment. “So… Any ideas on who exactly to ask? I can’t very well ask everyone. There’s probably at least fifty people here. If I have to go round them all, I can’t very well lead.”

“So why don’t you ask Jake for help?” Iona suggested. “He doesn’t like you – but he’d still follow orders. As long as he thinks they make sense.”

“Yeah, I guess… You’d better get something to eat now. Wouldn’t want anyone to think that I’m starving you.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t think that.” Iona glanced towards where Isabelle and some other people had managed to get a fire going and were cooking some of the food Adam and Isabelle had found. Then, she turned back to Dean. “You need to eat something as well.”

“I’m gonna talk to Jake,” Dean replied. “If you want, you can bring over some food for us.”

“Okay!” Iona smiled brightly, and then ran over to the little group.

Dean watched her go with a smile he hardly realised he had. Then, he released a sigh, and turned to head in Jake’s direction. I wonder what you’re doing now, Sammy? I hope you’re all right…

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John Winchester took a few steps towards his youngest son, and gave a slight frown, looking Sam slowly up and down.

“You look like hell, Sammy.”

Sam couldn’t even manage the faintest of smiles. He looked away, feeling sick, dizzy and disorientated. He was sure of one thing, though. “You’re dead,” he muttered. “You shouldn’t even be here. You can’t be a ghost – we burned your bones. So that means you’ve gotta be some kind of trick of the demons.”

“I’m here because you called me, son.” Sam didn’t hear his father move, but he jerked slightly when he felt a hand resting gently on his shoulder.

“You’re not him.” Sam tried to sound sure of himself, even as he refused to look up at the demon who wore the face of his father. Despite his attempts at being strong, though, he felt tears prick at the back of his eyes. I’d feel better if I even knew that Dean was still alive… He’d always thought he would know if anything ever happened to Dean – but since there’d been no warnings of the demons’ invasion, he’d lost faith in any powers he had.

“Your brother’s fine,” John’s voice said softly. “He’s in a slightly better situation than you. He’s been able to take charge of a group of people who’ve survived the attack. Not many – but he’ll get more.”

Sam closed his eyes, and just leaned into his father’s embrace, shuddering a little. “What’s happening to me?” he whispered.

“It’s best you don’t know that,” John replied. “It’ll just cause you more unnecessary pain.” He drew back to look into Sam’s eyes, his hands resting on his son’s shoulders. “You need to fight what’s happening – and have faith in your brother. Dean would fight all the hordes of hell to save you.”

Sam nodded slowly, beginning to feel slightly calmer. “Am I going to be possessed?” he asked, trying to keep the slight tremble out of his voice.

John shook his head. “It’s a lot worse than that, Sammy.” Even as he spoke, his form began to fade, and his voice sounded like it was coming from a long way away. “Goodbye, Sammy… I always did love you and your brother.”

Sam felt his eyes fill with tears, and he struggled to hold them in. Then, when his father’s form had completely disappeared, he lowered his head over the dead woman, and let himself start sobbing brokenheartedly.