Vengeance: Chapter 10 (Final)

The hunters looked all around them. Noticing Desmond being carried off, they were free now to move around. The wind ceased abruptly, making every step they took seem louder than before.

"Got to hand to it to you, you sure know how to pick a place." Alessandra's smooth voice came from over their heads. Sam and Dean flinched to defensive stances, finding the sidhe perched in the branches of a decaying tree. The fragile branch looked like it shouldn't have supported a squirrel, much less a person. Yet it didn't so much as bend under her weight.

"You get lost on the way here?" Dean called up. She didn't smile.

"What's the rush?" She raised a slender brow.

Desmond and Miriam watched rigidly from the branches of a tree that hadn't yet shed all its leaves. It was a poor hiding spot, but with Miriam's wings too weak to carry them both for very long, they had sparse options.

Three pairs of buzzing wings darted toward the scene. The fairies came to a halt, shocked as they processed it all. The hunters were loose, and the sidhe had arrived. No doubt she believed the humans and fairies were in complete alliance.

Alessandra's gaze swept to the three fairies. She sneered. "You think your hunters and glamour will protect you? Think again. Stay out of my way. I'll be with you once I'm done here."

None of the fairies moved, partly stunned and partly furious. The hope for compromise was long gone, and they refused to back down.

"You're not coming near our home," Erik growled.

The sidhe, who was focused cautiously on the hunters once more, didn't even look up as she extended a hand toward the hovering fairies across the trees. "I warned you. Clearly you need a reminder of what I can do. Either way, a little magic boost wouldn't hurt."

Rosalyn shrieked as she was suddenly pulled through the air, dragged into Alessandra's waiting hand by an unseen force in a matter of seconds. The girl struggled viciously, but it was nothing like fighting a human.

"Dammit." Dean growled. Having anticipated hand to hand combat like their first encounter, he had tucked his gun away as a backup. He pulled it out, took careful aim And shot. The ear splitting sound pierced through the air, nearly deafening the smaller beings. Alessandra wavered dangerously, shocked as burning pain seared through her ankle. She leapt from the tree before he could fire again, using the branches to maneuver her way to the ground.  

The hunters split up, each taking a side of the tree. Sam got to her first and used his full body weight to slam her against the trunk.

"Let her go." He nodded to Rosalyn. Alessandra clenched her jaw and stared up at him with fire in her eyes. He rammed the rod against her throat, searing the skin there. She hissed in pain, struggling against the iron and the hunter's weight. But there was a knowing look behind her furious glare; she had exactly what she needed right in her hand.

Head already ringing from the noise of gunfire and Alessandra’s jarring movements, Rosalyn screamed suddenly. An array of light burst from her small form, pouring off in energetic waves and absorbing into Alessandra. When the light ceased, the winged fairy slumped forward, half-conscious and breathing in whimpers.

The sidhe gave a sharp push against the hunter, this time succeeding in making him stumble a few steps back with her newly charged power. "You want her?" Wearing a mocking smirk, she held up Rosalyn's tiny frame carelessly between her fingers before tossing the girl to Sam.

With only a precious seconds to react, Sam lunged forward, hands outstretched. The iron rod fell to the ground as the teeny girl crashed into his cupped palms. He landed hard on his knees, and immediately brought us hands up to his face for inspections. He gingerly rolled the girl onto her back. She was breathing, but just barely.

Alessandra's smug look faltered as Dean attacked from behind, plunging the rod towards her stomach. She clutched his wrist in her hand, managing to keep the rod at bay. They grappled for dominance as Sam hastened to recover his iron and find a safe place to hide the tiny fairy. He hid her away in a large knot of wood on a nearby tree.

"Hang on," he assured her unconscious form.

Desmond and Miriam could only watch helplessly as Rosalyn was handled like a rag doll. Hopefully, the other fairies wouldn't be so easily overpowered by telekinesis, seeing as they were more older and more experienced. Though Rosalyn was no longer a target, Bog darted to the tree she had been left in. After making sure she was still breathing, he hovered around the hole like he was guarding it, observing the struggle between the sidhe and hunters haltingly.

"How did they get loose?" Erik demanded, nearly making Desmond and Miriam jump out of their skins from his sudden appearance.

"That's not important," Desmond snapped. "Did you see that? Sam saved Rosalyn. Murdering them was not the way to go!"

"They're not going to last anyway!" Erik shouted, getting up in his face as the fight continued down below. "Normal iron only holds her back so much. Soon or later, she's going to burn the heart out of one, and the other won't be far behind."

Desmond narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean by 'normal' iron?" Then he remembered, Alessandra had struggled to kill Hodge. Something special he'd had. His voice became more hushed. "What else is there? How did Hodge do it?" He was unfazed by Erik's searing look. "This is life or death, and if you know something, you damn well better share!"

Erik huffed in frustration. "He found some way to combine iron and the magic he stole from us. Her spells and strength didn't affect him when he had the charmed iron. She was only able to take him down once the magic ran out. Look, just--stay here. Bog and I will do what we can." His grave expression didn't offer much hope on that front. He took off.

Miriam narrowed her eyes at Desmond, seeing the mind-racing look on his face as he stared downward. "It makes sense, I guess," she muttered "Iron fights magic, and magic fights magic. But what are you thinking? We don't have time to figure out how Hodge did it!"

"Maybe not, but I think we might have our own way." He looked up suddenly, pacing away from her. "What make magic stronger and lets us do things we normally can't?” He answered his own question before she could even open her mouth: “Contracts.”

Meanwhile, Bog whipped his head to the side as Erik approached. Both kept a cautious distance from the fight. But after sharing a look, they came to the silent agreement that it was about time the struggle became four-on-one.

With one final thrust, Dean stabbed the rod through her abdomen. Alessandra's eyes went wide and bloodshot as she teetered to the ground. Blood on his hands, Dean turned to check on Sam.

Sam's eyes went from Dean to the body, then lunged to pull Dean out of the way.

"Dude what the-" Dean stopped in his tracks when he heard twigs crackling behind him. Alessandra was pushing herself to her feet. She reached into her own wound to pull out the rod, blood staining the pastel shirt and skinny jeans.

"Shit," Dean murmured, pulling out his gun. He shot her four times. The sidhe staggered, leaning heavily against the nearest tree as the iron fizzled inside her inhuman bloodstream. But she was still breathing.

"Why the fuck isn't this working?" Dean shouted. He looked to Sam, but his brother was as much at a loss as he was.

"You missed a step." A voice said near Sam's ear. The hunter cringed and nearly swatted Bog right out of the air. Recovering, Bog went on.  "The iron needs to be enchanted to end her for good."

"Always one more thing..." Dean groaned.

Miriam swooped down from the trees, dangerously unsteady in her frantic haste. Bog flew at her, grabbing her arms to keep her steady. He glared at her incredulously, already trying to tug her back toward the relative safety of the branches. "What the hell are you doing? Get back up there!"

She tore her hands from his and turned to the hunters. "Desmond told me his true name is..." She hesitated upon the knowledge of how devastatingly significant true names were to fairies. To offer one to human... "It's Raorke."

Nearby, Erik's cautious gaze moved from the sidhe's injured form long enough to regard Miriam incredulously. "What?"

Miriam ignored him and didn't look away from the hunters. "He said to summon him and have him enchant the iron. It's the only plan we've got right now."

"His true name?" Erik groaned. "He's insane!"

"Give yours then," Miriam fired at him.

Both Bog and Erik averted their gazes, clearly wanting to do no such thing. Even Miriam wasn't sure she would have volunteered if Desmond hadn't stepped up and firmly offered. She pressed on. "Having one of us--a fairy, I mean--summon him might not work, since there's iron involved here. Desmond is willing, so... do it."

"Wait," Dean said, sparing the sidhe a glance to make sure she was still wounded enough that this chat was possible. "Desmond is wounded. He's the weakest out of all of you. And you're fine sending him in to take the heat here?" He demanded of Erik and Bog. The fairies averted their gaze, not an easy task seeing as Dean took up such a large portion of their vision. Dean waited a moment for them to change their minds, but they remained stonily silent. "Can't believe you guys haven't gone extinct yet," he muttered.

Searching around his feet, Sam found the flightless fairy was nowhere to be seen. "Where is he?"

"Out of sight." Miriam answered softly. "He'll come when he's summoned. Time it right."

They nodded, then turned to the sidhe, who was now standing once again, an ancient hatred in her dark eyes.

"Say goodbye, bitch." Dean sauntered closer, gun held at the ready. The sidhe raised her arm and send Dean flying back into a tree with a painful thud. Leaves scattered. Sam raced for her, using the iron rod as a means of pushing her into place--a slap across the face, a stab into her side. Her hands clawed at his face and tightened around his neck with inhuman strength. as his airflow was cut off bit by bit, Sam plunged the rod into her neck.

"Roarke!" He gasped.

Desmond went rigid. In that instant, he heard Sam's voice below, but also a distant echo in his head. He had carried that true name his entire life, never revealing it to a single soul. The sensation of being summoned was entirely foreign.

Everything went black as wind from nowhere gusted around him. In the blink of an eye, he was no longer hidden among the branches, but perched on Sam's shoulder. He gasped and dropped to a crouch, grasping at the fabric of the hunter's jacket to keep from being flung off.

But that was the least of the sensory overload. The summoning ignited a magic within him that he hadn't felt since his wings had been destroyed. Not that it was really his magic. Just a reaction of the power held in his true name. He could hear the command, the endgame of the summoning in his head. Enchant the iron. Even if he hadn't wanted to, he would have done it. It was a terrifying feeling, to not be fully in charge of his own actions.

It wasn't bravery that caused him to stand up and step forward, but the force of the summoning. Eyes wide with fear and determination, he strode hurriedly from Sam's shoulder and across what felt like the mile-long sleeve of his jacket. All the while, the struggle to keep the sidhe in place threatened to buck him off Sam's arm.

Finally, Desmond reached the hunter's monstrous hand that engulfed the end of the iron rod. The fairy regarded the sidhe's murderous gaze with a deadpan expression before falling to his knees and fighting to maintain balance as he laid both palms atop the back of Sam's hand.

With that, Desmond put everything he had into enchanting the iron. The fact that he didn't have a choice was helpful--he would have had no idea how to do it otherwise.

The vicious hands slid off his neck, freeing his air supply. Blood dribbled down Alessandra's flawless skin in thick, syrupy squirts. The blood slowed as the iron began to glow with a blue light. Veins of the same cerulean hue snaked out on her neck around the puncture, slithering up along the contours of her face to meet the corners of her eyes. As the veins touched there, her vision suddenly blanched to a milky pale blue, all traces of her iris and pupil melted into the eye whites themselves.

As gruesome as it was, sam couldn't risk turning away. Not with Desmond perched so precariously on his hand. He was trying so damn hard to hold still, but he was still trembling a little.

Dean stood up behind him, eyes wide alongside the remaining fairies as he watched the Alessandra become encased by a brilliant light. Sam snatched up Desmond and held him close, jumping back several feet as the light separated into dozens of spectral orbs, flying high into the sky and scattering into various directions. One in particular seeped into the hiding place Rosalyn was stashed.  

When all the light had disappeared, her body fell limp on the forest floor. Her arms were splayed out and unmoving. Dean stepped up next to his brother, taking a quiet moment to observe the corpse. Sam lifted one hand off the other, peering in at Desmond's tiny form.

The flightless fairy didn't move as the shadow of Sam's hand moved away. He was laying on his side, limp as a rag doll. His jagged wings weren't folded against his back, but laying slackly behind him.

"Desmond!" Miriam reached Sam first, laying both hands atop of the hunter's thumb to keep herself steady despite the erratic nature of her flight. She stared at the motionless fairy with panicked eyes. Her gaze shifted desperately to Bog and Erik as they approached, but they gaped at Desmond with as much disquiet.

Rosalyn watched from her hideaway. She had been roused during the commotion after passing out from having her magic stolen. Her mind was still racing from witnessing Desmond's summoning. He and the hunters had saved them all...

Frowning thoughtfully, she looked down at the spectral embodiment of the magic in her hands. Though it had attempted to--and was still attempting to--return to its rightful host, she held it off. She couldn't see if Desmond was awake, but judging by the faces of the other fairies, things weren't looking very hopeful. After one last glance at her precious magic, she made her choice.

"Rosalyn," Bog said, looking up as another pair of wings approached the group. "Are you alright--" He paused when he saw brilliant light throwing an array of colors from her cupped hands. "What's... What are you doing?"

"It'll work, right?" Rosalyn looked at the other fairies imploringly. She focused on Erik. He was always seemed to know more about these kind of things. "If I give it to him, he'll be okay?"

Erik frowned, looking from her to where Desmond lay still. "There's no... guarantee. Rosalyn, whether it works or not, there's no getting it back once it's inside another fairy. Extracting magic... That's a sidhe thing."

Her expression became doleful, but it was quickly overshadowed by hope. "Okay," the young girl said softly.

Rosalyn approached Sam's hand with special caution. She looked up at the hunter with a faintly wary look, though something told her she had nothing to worry about from him. Pushing aside all urges to get away from the proximity of the human, she found room on the expanse of the palm and knelt next to Desmond. Knowing she wasn't going to change her mind, she didn't waste another second and pushed the orb of light into the unconscious fairy's chest.

He jolted and gasped. Rosalyn leaped up, her wings carrying her back a few inches to join the other fairies. Desmond didn't open his eyes. Light pulsed over him, spreading over his small body before seeping away and concentrating at his broken wings. The iridescent limbs became invisible in the magnitude of the light. Desmond breathed unevenly as the magic merged with him. Gradually, the light faded with each pulse, revealing a pair of whole wings.

The hunters observed the proceedings with a special reverence. The majority of the magic they fought against was black magic--dark stuff that would sooner eat out up alive than heal you. Dean cracked a small smile at the sight of the renewed wings. It was satisfying to see someone else be rewarded for making the ultimate sacrifice for their family.

Miriam, not having strayed an inch during the process, slung her legs over the the side of Sam's thumb and padded over to kneel down next to him. She pulled his head into her lap and stroked her fingers through his short chestnut hair.  

"Don't make me kiss you awake." She huffed with a sad smile.  

Sighing, Desmond chuckled weakly. "Tempting." He reached up to his head and gave Miriam's hand a squeeze. Before opening his eyes, he slowly took in what he could of his surroundings. He could hear the river and the buzz of several pairs of wings. He felt the slight movement of the warm surface he lay on; it was enough to alert him that he wasn't quite on solid ground.

His eyelids flickered open, and he was treated to the sight of Miriam's face. She helped him sit up, and he realized with a faint shiver that they were in Sam's hand. But it couldn't hold a candle to how fearful he had been earlier. There was hardly room for anything but relief.

Something else grabbed the entirety of his attention the moment he noticed: his wings were back to full length. He straightened, head whipping to the side to look over his shoulder, too shocked even form the question.

"Killing Alessandra returned all the magic she's stolen," Miriam explained softly.

"Oh." He faced her with a frown. "No, wait... She didn't steal my magic."

"But she did steal mine," Rosalyn spoke up, prompting him to look over at her.

Miriam had to grab his arm to keep him from jumping to his feet as his confusion quickly morphed to furious incredulity. "What the hell!" he snapped, laying a hand on his chest as if he physically wanted to return the magic to its proper owner.

"It's not that bad," Rosalyn insisted. "My wings aren't hurt. I can still fly."

"But your magic--It's... We can't fix it."

"I know," she said, not looking regretful in the slightest. "It looked like you weren't going to make it."

He gave the girl a prolonged stare, certain that she didn't fully understand what life was like without magic. It was a matter of time before the reality hit her. But for now, he owed her more gratitude than he could ever figure out how to show. "Thank you," he said finally, shaking his head.

Desmond's gaze trailed down to the dead sidhe at the base of a nearby tree. He shuddered, finding himself staring at her blank white eyes, the gruesome wound in her throat. He could hardly believe he'd helped down her.

He turned his eyes upwards at the hunters. Still thoroughly intimidating. "Not bad, huh?" Desmond said with a breathless smile.

The Winchesters bade him equally relieved smiles. Funny how perspectives changed once you kill together.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "You know, for a miniature asshole, you uh... You don't suck."

Sam followed their gaze to their sidhe' corpse, the fresh blood pooling into the dirt around their boots.

"We gotta dump the body." Sam said, keeping his voice soft as Miriam and Desmond craned their necks to meet his eyes. "Which means I'm gonna need my hand guys."

Miriam smiled and took both of Desmond's hands in her own. She stood up in Sam's palm, pulling her friend with her.

"Fly with me?" She asked, though it was hardly a question.

Desmond's wings flickered and buzzed to life. He felt a rush of exuberance at being able to fly once more--happier than he had been in recent memory and bearing the first genuine smile the hunters had seen from him. Flying again felt like coming home after being away for a very long time.

He kept his grasp on one of Miriam's hands even after they were both in the air, keeping her steady and simultaneously getting the hang of his wings again.

Meanwhile, Erik gave the sidhe a dark, disgusted look. "You'll want to burn that," he informed the hunters.

~~~

After a hike back to the Impala to retrieve the salt and lighter fluid, the body was set ablaze on a patch of dead grass on bank of the river. They stood back and watched it burn.

"Man, those things are nasty." Dean muttered, rubbing his sore wrists absent mindedly. Turning away from the smoldering sight, he found Desmond hovering in the air around eye level. "Think you guys can stay out of dingy motel rooms for a while?" He arched an eyebrow, a wry smile tempted to form.

The fairy rolled his eyes. "Like we were bothering anyone." He looked between the hunters, utterly glad that they had survived. For one thing, three dead hunters in one town certainly wouldn't have done the fairies any favors as far as unwanted attention went. That, and... More hunters like them roaming around didn't sound like a bad deal.

Desmond glanced down at Dean's chafed wrists, still raw form the binding cords. He figured it was as good a time as any to get back in the swing of magic. As he breathed out slowly, a faint glow arose on the fairy's skin, and on the raw wounds around the hunter's wrists.  In a matter of seconds, it looked as if the wounds had been healing for weeks.

"If you ever need anything," Desmond started. He gave Dean a flat look. "Please stay as far away from here as possible."

Dean held his hands up to his face, turning them over in the last light of the day. The bloodflow was gone, left only dried brown smears over the slight irritation. He chuckled and bobbed his head in agreement.

"You got it."

Stepping over the ashes that remained of the sidhe's body, Dean nodded to Miriam in a silent farewell, eyes barely grazing the others. There was no reason for hugs or sweet parting words. Sam and Dean merely turning their backs on the forest and began the trek back to the Impala.

"God, that was a weird one." Sam shook his head, the memory of Alessandra and the bite-sized fairies burned into his memory.

"Yeah. But I'll sleep better knowing Richie can rest in peace without that Alessandra creep running around. Even if the guy turned out to be more of an asshole than Mel Gibson."

Sam smiled at the well-worn tires of the impala as the car came into view. It was just where they had parked her, waiting patiently for her passengers. Stars were beginning to flicker on the horizon as night settled in prematurely.

"Hey Dean?" Sam said from the passenger's side. Dean stopped with his hand on the door, giving him an expectant look. "Next time, I'm choosing the motel."

Dean smirked, not arguing as he climbed into the driver's seat. The engine turned over and the headlights flipped on, lighting their way through the dark.