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Weapon of Choice: Chapter 22
Fandom: Supernatural
Author: xantissa
Summary: A case turning out to be a set up. Sam taken away from him. An enemy he can’t identify. Father that struggles to understand. Dean, alone, fighting to save his brother from power no one can really understand.
Genre: Slash
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: 18+
Warnings: incest, slash, demon possession, violence.
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all it’s characters belong to WB. I do it just for fun, no profit being made from my writing.
Spoilers: Mild for Asylum, Nightmare tiny ones for probably most of the first season.

Chapter 22

He woke up to the feeling that something was happening, that something significant to the future he’s been tracking was going to happen soon. The Sorcerer rolled out of bed, not bothering to dress beyond throwing a soft, white robe over his thin form.

As soon as he stood up a nauseating headache send him to his knees. As he felt his latest meal making it’s way up his throat again, dozens of visions kept beating at his mind in jumbled, incoherent waves, senseless and without any rhyme or reason. It was as if each and every one of them wanted to get to him at the same time.

That never happened to him before, but at the same time felt oddly familiar.

“It’s really troublesome if you keep remembering things.”

The voice surprised the Sorcerer. He turned towards the entrance to his room with an uncommon sense of dread starting deep in his belly.

Something was not right.

There, illuminated from behind by the light streaming from the corridor, stood Shien. The Chinese boy was as immaculate as always, dressed in white pants and a loose tunic with embroidered flowers, his hair braided in a tight, neat French braid that exposed his pretty face quiet well.

He was always pretty and always a bit disturbing in his complete devotion to Marakaj, but he was also very weak. His telepathy was well trained but negligent, his mental presence not even a blip on the Sorcerer’s radar.

Yet it was different this time. Even without knowing, without understanding why, without even conscious thought he took a step back from the boy.

Something was wrong.

What the child was implying, it was impossible. The boy wasn’t strong enough to penetrate his defenses, not to mention actually sealing his memories.

Yet there was something wrong, something he felt he should remember…

The boy smiled.

“I have not only sealed your memories Sorcerer, I have sealed your visions too.” The boy said with odd half smile that made him look like a stranger.

“Ridiculous. Someone as pathetically weak as you couldn’t even scratch the surface of my defenses.”

The boy stepped into the room fully, letting the door close behind him with a soft, final click.

“True, this human existence called Shien is no threat to you whatsoever.” The voice, although still the boys had a different modulation this time. Lower, subtly amused, so very sure of itself timbre that spoke of power, age and experience. All the things the boy didn’t have.

When Sorcerer looked him in the eyes again, he wasn’t surprised to see them different. Pale grey, they seemed to be washed out of color, almost blending with the whites, only the pupils were shockingly black among the paleness.


The change was so smooth, that it didn’t even cause a ripple in the boy’s aura. That meant the possession was happening for a very long time, probably since the boy’s birth, controlled and smooth enough that none of them noticed anything.

How could they not notice? He with his visions and Marakaj…

“I must admit though, even for a being such as me, leading you on was quite the hard work. You prove to be unexpectedly stubborn for someone who claims to be so tired of life.” The boy shrugged, a calculated, elegant move. “It’s the second time this century you have broken through the seal.”

This century?!

“How long...” For the first time in a very, very long time the Sorcerer was lost for words.

The boy smirked.

“I have been herding you along my chosen path for the last nine centuries. You shouldn’t try to fight me though, Sorcerer. In this world nothing can oppose my power. It will only make me more irritated if you fight.”

The aura never changed, the boy still gave off the impression of being almost helpless.

Driven by instinct, the older man tried to move, reach the spell circle etched into the floor, but before he reached his destination a single word reached his ears and the world stopped.


The word wasn’t in any human language he knew, and he knew most of them. The power in each melodic syllable was strong enough to rattle his teeth to stop his body in his tracks.

“That curse of yours is very inconvenient. It seems you were cursed by one of my kind, so I cannot break it even though I tried to. That time I made humans dismember you and hide pieces of your body in different locations seemed to do the trick for a while. But well, even if I can’t kill you I could make use of you. For all my power I don’t actually know the future. Not like you.”

Another word, and the Sorcerer was kneeling on the floor, his body completely obedient to the boy commanding it, or rather the entity that used the boy as his avatar.

“The only obstacle is that damn Vampire. Who would have thought that simply because he is from another world, it would cause such a damn difference. It only meant I had to be a bit more careful.”

Another word and the older man could feel all his defenses lowering, opening his mind to outside intrusion.

“It’s useless. Every being born on this world was imprinted with those words.”

Staring at the boy, at his pale, colorless eyes, the Sorcerer finally understood.

God’s Language

The ultimate power bestowed by God himself to those chosen to watch over the life He created.

Those words could not be learned or even understood by anyone else other than those chosen to bear that Language as their own.

It was almost too fantastical to even think about it, but…. an Angel?

The boy smiled again and the older man had an impression of dirty white snow falling all over them.

“You are not wrong...” As he watched, the Sorcerer noticed that it wasn’t snow but feathers. Thousandths upon thousandths of feathers, light gray in color, fell all around them. “But you are not exactly right either.”

As the boy touched the blonde man’s forehead and started sifting through memories, erasing them one by one and giving him seconds to understand the visions that were deleted too, the wizard understood the subtle error in his interpretation of the future.

“Sam Winchester…”

“Ironic isn’t it?” Murmured the creature masquerading as Shien and then everything went dark, his mind once more rewritten.

* * *

As he knocked on the massive wooden door, Sam felt an icy calmness sweep over him.

That was it.

For better or worse, his decision was made.

Oddly enough it made the Weapon in him unusually content,

Now, instead of forcing it’s control over his psyche, it seemed satisfied with whispering things into his mind, random bits of knowledge just seeping right into him, without obstacles.

The moment he made his decision to leave, something shifted in him.

He left Dean twice already. It seemed third time was going to be it, because this time he was not going to leave any way back for himself.

“Come in.”

The door opened on it’s own. This charmed house seemed to be unusually obedient towards it’s vampire master.

Actually navigating through this house was incredibly easy, instinctual even. Even Dad got it so fast. Only Dean had problems, but it wasn’t like the house wouldn’t send Dean where he wanted to be. Quite the opposite. The house reacted to his brother almost too well. The only reason why Dean was always lost in this charmed house was because Dean himself couldn’t decide where he wanted to be. Unconsciously he was avoiding Sam all that time.

There really weren’t many options left to Sam if he wanted to stop hurting his brother and father. If he died, Dean would blame himself, not to mention that Sam promised not to take his own life. If he disappeared both Dean and Dad wouldn’t stop at nothing to find him. Just like he would do to find any of them.

That left him only one option. Make it so that they wouldn’t even know there was something missing.

As the door opened, Sam was greeted to a sight straight from a gothic novel.

The dark haired vampire was sitting in one of the luxurious leather armchairs, all decadence and expensive clothing, while the little Asian boy, dressed immaculately as always, was pouring him tea into a fragile looking china cup.

The boy wore white, as always. Thin pants and long sleeved tunic that buttoned up to his neck and was adorned with intricate silver designs on the left side.

Lotus flowers this time.

“I had a feeling you would come.” Murmured the vampire while taking a sip of the fragrant tea.

Sam watched the graceful move. In a purely neutral way Sam could admit that Marakaj was stunningly attractive.



Seemingly perfect…

... If only he wasn’t so damn irritating at the same time.

Sam stopped in front of the man and put his hands behind his back to hide their shaking.

“Will you grant me a favor?”

Sam asked formally. It was time to butter the vampire up.

With a smirk, Marakaj leaned back in his chair, setting the china back on the antique table.

“If it’s beneficial to me.”

As he headed for the second chair, greeted with Shien’s icy silence and his Weapon’s irritation with the boy, Sam pretended not to see the carefully hidden pity in Marakaj’s eyes. He was grateful that the dark haired man chose to be extra annoying and condescending. Sam felt that should he be shown any compassion then, it would break him.

* * *

Marakaj stood at the front steps of his driveway, keeping the beasts at bay as Samuel Winchester made his way down the road, single duffel bag in his hand.

The boy was calm, too calm even for what he wanted to do. There was still a chance for him to back down, but Marakaj knew he wouldn’t do it. That boy’s mind was already made up.

“Why are you letting him go?”

It was Shien asking. While the boy loathed Sam Winchester, he was loyal to Marakaj. The vampire sighed and lit another cigarette, inhaling the smoke deeply.

“The kind of spell he wants performed is too costly for me. Like most magic users my power can’t replenish at such levels. I have already used up a lot of my power. I’ve got to be careful with the rest. The possible rewards are not worth it this time.”

Shien looked at the slowly retreating back.

“Isn’t it because you don’t want to see him live like this?”

Marakaj chuckled, but it was a bitter, sad kind of sound.

“Maybe...” The vampire ground his cigarette into the concrete. “That kind of sorrowful existence... I don’t want to have anything to do with it.”

“How are the remaining Winchesters?” The vampire asked after a pause.

Shien straightened.

“Unconscious.” He reported. “The ghost is still hanging round Dean.”

“Good. Keep them that way for now. As for the ghost, if it starts to act up, destroy it.”

When Marakaj turned to go back into the house, Shien stopped him again.

“I don’t understand. You pity him, like him even, but you act without any kind of consistency around him. You won’t perform the spell, even though you could. Yet you have nothing against using his wish for your own benefit.”

The vampire sighed.

“He wants to throw away his life. It’s a sign of my respect that I will use that sacrifice for my benefit. As he is now, Sam will go to Maya Dubois and offer himself to her service. She is hard pressed for new operatives right now so she’ll be indebted to me, which will prove useful. After all she does control the largest private military force in the US. She will arrange for Sam to have his wish, and it will be under her command that he will loose his life eventually. However in the meantime he will do something he always loved doing.”

Shien looked at him questioningly.

“Help people. Even now, Sam Winchester wants to help.”

* * *

Sam could sense her long before he saw her. Something inside him, the Weapon, kept singing this constant chant of mothermothermothermother. It was surprising that something this powerful could be so childishly simple in it’s joy.

With every step the sense of the awareness inside him grew stronger, as did the sense of disconnection. Ever since he dreamed of the Weapon for the first time, Sam kept separating it in his mind. It wasn’t him completely, but neither was it something else. He couldn’t explain it even if he wanted to. He could sense which sensations and emotions were from the Weapon and which were his. That, too, troubled him. With each hour the thing inside him became more human to him. More real. How could he call it a monster, a demon, when he could literally feel the innocent love it held for it’s creator? There wasn’t anything twisted or dark in it. Just simple joy and a bit of apprehension that it didn’t fulfill it’s promise to that woman as completely as it would have liked to.

Outside the gates stood a small blue ford. He could see Sarah Andrews leaning on the driver door, looking at him.

“Marakaj called.” She explained in advance. “Thought you might need a lift.”

She was a pretty woman, gentle and soft in a way only Jess was, but not beautiful. Sam could feel he would have liked her but he couldn’t really see what attracted his father to her. She had definitely more flesh on her bones that was considered attractive, her face while pretty, wasn’t anything extraordinary. Her most noticeable features were her hair, soft and shining, and her unusually light amber eyes.

“Um, thanks.” He offered uneasily. She was his father’s lover after all. It still made his mind bend a little to think of his Dad this way.

“There’s water and sandwiches in the back.” She offered as they crammed themselves into the small car.

As she started the car and started driving down the forest road, Sam turned to look through the provisions on the backseat. He could feel her watching him from the corner of her eye.

“Where are we going?” He still wasn’t too sure about the next steps. Marakaj merely had a few hours to set everything in motion.

“There a small city, Cedona, two day’s driving from here. That’s where main houses of most High Families are located. You are going to Maya Dubois, the current head of that family. Did Marakaj tell you anything?”

“Not really.”

“High Families is a term that describes those people whose powers are hereditary. A long time ago there were dozens of those kinds of bloodlines. Some very powerful, some merely a blip on the supernatural radar. These days their powers are mostly reliant on the purity of their DNA. If there was too many non-talented people mixed in, the blood purity was lost and the power lessened and often almost completely lost. During the centuries some families ceased to exist, some combined, even new ones emerged. However only the strongest, oldest bloodlines have the right to call themselves High Families. Vampires also fall under that system. There are different races or vampires, as there are different races of humans. Things such as monsters, fairies, werevolves... each of them can be connected to some family or other. In Cedona here are currently three main High Families present. Other are either stationed abroad or in different parts of the country. The three are Dubois, Whitecastle and Nostrado.

I will start with Nostrado since there’s not much known about them anyway. As a family they deal mostly in banking and real estate, almost none of the members have any kind of power, besides a weak affinity for spell casting. They are however the strongest, most powerful High Family. One with the purest blood of all.”

“If they have no power, why are they so powerful?”

Sarah sighed.

“I am telling you only what I heard. I am no expert and I don’t really know any details but from what I heard Nostrado are Necromancers. They deal with Death in it’s many forms. There’s a rumor that almost all of their guards are actually zombies. They are so feared not because of the strength of the whole family but because of their leader. The head of Nostrado Family is said to be chosen by Death itself. He or she can kill by merely wishing a person to die, they can also bring back the dead.”

“As zombies?”

“Yes, but not the kind you saw before. Rumors say that something completely different and much, much worse. Anyway what you need to know is to never, ever go against people that identify themselves as Nostrado. Luckily they don’t really care about inter-Families dealings and only involve themselves when things reach their own turf. You probably won’t ever meet anybody from their family and especially the main court.”

“Court? As in…” Despite himself Sam got interested.

“They act like medieval kingdoms. The ruling person is on top of everything, the closer one is to the head of the family, the higher the status and power. Court is a term that describes those most important people.”

“Okay. It sounds like a fantasy novel. So what’s next? Whitecastle?”

“Yes. They are mainly in entertainment business. Most of today’s most popular models or musicians are connected one way or the other with that family. Their power lies in spell casting and compulsion. They can influence people in different ways and with different intensity. From a simple charm to complete control. Of course only the highest ranked members are at a dangerous level. These day’s besides Nostrado, no family has true blood purity. It’s hard to describe. The current head is Sean Whitecastle, a sixty-five year old man whose skills are very doubtful. He couldn’t make anyone even blink on command. He is however proficient in spell casting. What you have to know about the ruling family is that some centuries back, when they realized that their power was disappearing, they made a contract with a… well, something. Some say it was a demon, some that it was a god or a Great Spirit… anyway the contract is hereditary to all members of the ruling family but it’s only active when the person who inherited it can actually fulfill it.”

“That doesn’t sound good. Sacrifices?”

“No. I don’t think so. I know that their contract is bound to their own bodies, but nothing else. The details are guarded rather jealously. Anyway Sean Whitecastle is still the head but his... mandate for power is heavily endangered by his grandson. Sheldon Whitecastle is the most powerful mage of these times. Rumors say that his contract is fully active – something not seen in over three centuries. If the spell you want is ever going to be performed, that man is going to do it. He is the only one to survive casting something so big and only one capable of keeping the spell alive for as long as you need it. I have never met him but I heard things. Most amusing rumor is that Marakaj never met him personally. The rumor says that if you want to be sure the decision you made in that man’s presence are truly yours, you shouldn’t look him in the eyes, listen to his voice and never let him touch you. Kinda hard on the guy, aren’t they?”

Sam could feel his eyebrows climbing.

“You are joking. That’s so fantastic even I can’t believe it.”

“That’s merely the outlines. There’s much more. If you want your plan to succeed, you need Sheldon. However for you it’s impossible. Without connections and huge amounts of money, you won’t be able to meet him at all. That’s why you are going to go to Maya Dubois and offer your services. Dubois is practically a fallen High Family. They blood purity is so low it’s a joke. Only a few dozen people even show all the characteristic traits for that family, all the remaining members only have one of the abilities, usually the physical side.”

“So what are their abilities?”

“Dubois are also called Cats. They share a very close connection to beasts. They are stronger and faster than humans, can transform their fingers into claws. Their senses are sharper that human. Their affinity is for negating supernatural elements actually. Closest to nature, if one has strong genes, they will be immune to magic, demons… basically anything that has it’s origin in the supernatural. Due to their very precarious position Dubois do what police does for normal people. They police the Families, chase down those who break their laws, punish them and also interact with ordinary law enforcers. Those are the regular troops. All members of that family are employed that way. It’s a matriarchy by the way. It’s the women that have the power. The previous leader stared up another corps though. Special units that consist of people with all kinds of abilities. Those units are loyal not to the Dubois family but only to the current leader. You will apply for a job there.”

“Marakaj explained it to me. It’s a one way road. Once I am a part of those special forces, it’s for life.”

Sarah looked uncomfortable.

“Yes. The binding performed at the signing of the contract is absolute and unbreakable. So think carefully. You will have to fulfill every order. You will no longer have an option to refuse.” She warned Sam, her face dark.

“She will make my wish come true. She will have that spell cast.”

“Yes. Most people come to her because they want something done they can’t do themselves.”

Silence stretched between them.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Sam challenged. “I know you want to.”

She watched the passing scenery.

“A long time ago... It would have spared me a lot of pain, if somebody else decided to do the same thing. Memories are sometimes the worst of torture. I don’t know if it’s good or bad, what you are trying to do.” She swallowed audibly. “But I can understand the need to take away somebody’s pain.

Warm hands and heavy weight on her lap.

I’m sorry, so sorry…

Will you ever forgive me for asking this?

“Things you would never do for yourself, you will do for somebody you love.”

Sam said nothing, just looked through the side window with sightless eyes.


I know it's short but at least it's something.

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