Title: 10.) Episode 1.10: "A Trip Down Memory Lane (1)"
Description: (Original airdate: November 14th, 2008)
Sam451823 - December 5, 2008 02:29 AM (GMT)
SamEpisode 1x10: "A Trip Down Memory Lane (1)"Prologue:
Sam and Ruby were on the bed, stretched out and up to their heads in research on the computer when Travis walked into the motel room, looking as if he had won the lottery. He held up two large plastic bags, smiling brightly. “I actually scored us some Chinese food! Finally, we get something that you don’t have to score through a drive through or nuke in a mini-mart!”
Ruby bolted from the bed, launching at the bags in Travis’ hands like a ravenous dog. Sam laughed as he sat up, shutting the laptop. He leaned over the side of the bed, opening the cooler that they kept and pulled out three beers, sitting them down on the dresser as Ruby laid out the food. “About time you decided to splurg just a little bit, Sam.”
“Yeah, well, I figure that we kind of deserve it,” Sam said, “even if it is just a small treat. More like you guys deserve it after all the crap you’ve had to put up with recently.”
Travis looked up at Sam and he could tell that the hunter knew what he was talking about. Sam still felt guilty over what happened back in Des Moines. He was still reeling over all of that himself, to be honest. Everything that he saw… the memories that had not only came back, but were altered so fiercely had also affected his newfound friend as well. The hunter just smiled in response, waving Sam off as he took his beer and sat down, causing Sam to smile back. Travis held no grudges, and that brought a small sense of relief to him.
“So you guys find anything?” Travis asked through a mouthful of General Tso's chicken. Carson had been extremely silent lately and the trio used the time he gave them wisely to try and find any information that they could on the demon. There was nothing though. They weren’t going to resort to summoning him until they had some way of defeating the beast that had attacked them each in his own sick way. This demon not only destroyed Ruby’s knife back in Louisville, but then rebuilt it as if it were no problem at all. He attacked them, opened the floodgates in Sam’s mind and heart to push his powers to uncontrollable levels, but then turned around and gave them those knives… knives that according to him would kill with one stab and then reensoul the person with a second stab. Hinder… help… hinder… help. He was even more of a problem than Ruby had been in the beginning.
“Nothing,” Sam said, sighing. “No record of him anywhere.”
“There aren’t that many true demonologists left out there,” Ruby said, "but the ones that do exist haven’t even heard of this guy. We even sent sketches of his sigil. Nothing.”
“Well, isn’t this fun,” Travis said, rolling his eyes. “This guy's got a lot of tricks and just knowing him, I guarantee that he has many more to throw at us. At this rate we don’t even know where the hell he is, much less how we can stop him once he decides to come back around. That's scary as hell.”
“Nothing is as scary as Hell, Trav,” Ruby pointed out.
Travis grinned. “Aww, I get a nickname. I should bake a cake.”
“I’m gonna phone Bobby,” Sam said, taking a quick swig of his beer before he stood. “He’s been doing his own research too, and if anyone can find out anything, it's him.”
As Sam grabbed his phone and began dialing, Travis looked up curiously. “That old guy that met us at the hospital in Kentucky?” Ruby nodded in agreement. “What was with the PMS?”
“He’s a hunter too and even more of a book nerd than Sammy over there. It's like he told us. He doesn't like Sam traveling with me, hunting with me because I'm a demon. And he doesn't know who you are. But Sam's right. If Bobby Singer doesn't know about it, it probably doesn't exist."
Travis whistled, going back to his food. “More of a study nerd than Winchester. Damn… that’s bad.” Sam looked over at the pair, casting them a playful glare as he waited for Bobby to answer. Finally, his surrogate father picked up.
“Heya. How you holdin’ up, son?” Sam’s face dropped at those words. Bobby had been told about Sam’s conversation with Dean through Mitch. He knew about what happened in Des Moines as well. It was a lot to deal with in such a short time.
“I’ll be fine, Bobby. Don’t worry. I’m actually calling about that research you’ve been doing on this Carson Adams guy. You find anything yet?”
Bobby sighed and instantly Sam realized that he was not going to be happy with the answer. “Do you want the truth or an honest lie? I’ve got nothing, Sam. Not a damn thing; not even on that sigil that you sent me. It’s like this guy just never existed. There’s no record of him ever popping up, no record of this sigil in any demon hierarchy in any culture… it’s like he never popped on the map.”
“Or more likely, chose to fall off of it,” Sam replied, huffing in annoyance. “Alright then. I’ll let you go. Keep me posted if you find anything, okay?”
“You got it. Be careful, Sam.” The call ended with Sam and the others being right back where they started, at square one. This was getting more and more frustrating by the minute. It seemed as though they were running out of options, and still didn't have any solutions at all. This guy couldn’t have just appeared out of thin air and then disappeared out of the same wisp.
Sam sat down on the bed, lost in thought before the sudden slurp of food caught his ear. He looked up, seeing Ruby chowing down on some egg foo yung, looking over at him curiously. “Bad news on the Bobby front?” She asked.
Sam sighed, nodding in agreement. “Nothing on Carson. He couldn’t find anything. He’s still digging though.” Sam stood, moving to the closet, ready to throw on his jacket so that he could go down to the Impala. He wanted to grab a few of the books that they stored in the trunk to see if he could at least do a bit of research himself while he ate. There had to be something that they were missing. While he was grabbing his coat, he caught eye of the safe, and a thought suddenly occurred to him. Punching in the combination, Sam opened it up, revealing several of the more prized items that the group normally locked away there including the jade-colored stone that they recently had acquired from their last run in with Carson: the Vicis Oculus.
Running it over and over in his hand, Sam found himself oddly drawn to it. He felt an odd warmth coming from it. Something that connected with him, almost frightening in a way. “Ruby,” Sam said, looking over at her and holding up the stone. “This stone… we haven’t talked much about it since we got it from Carson. What’s the deal with this thing?”
Ruby looked up at it, not phased by much else other than the Chinese she was shoveling. She pointed to the stone with a chopstick as she spoke. “It serves a lot of purposes,” Ruby said. “But mostly it’s a portal into the past, present, and future of damn near anyone or anything that you want to look at. Think of it as really advanced scrying.”
“So how does it work?” he asked.
“If you aren’t its master, an incantation can activate it, but it’s sketchy,” she replied. “You can’t be sure where you or the stone will land. But if you're the stone’s master, then you can do whatever you want with it. Theoretically, anyway. Demons want that stone bad and then there's always the mad-with-power thing. No master has ever lived long enough after they received it to prove that it actually does what Chronos meant for it to do." As Ruby went back to eating, Sam looked at the stone, feeling the warm surge from it coursing through his hand, suddenly remembering something from the last fight between he and Carson:
“I made the mistake of doing this. Of giving up my humanity to become this… this thing. I sacrificed myself to save her! And that bitch couldn’t even utter a simple thank-you! She was repulsed by the very thing that I made myself to rescue her! Well now she’s gonna see what it feels like! As soon as I get that damn stone!”
Everyone had their demons… even a demon. Carson couldn't have always been like he is now. He wasn’t just someone that had been punished. He’d sold his soul. He'd literally been to Hell and back. Why hadn't Sam thought of it before?
“I have to get something from the car,” Sam said, discreetly pocketing the stone in his jacket and throwing it on. “I’ll be back.”
He headed for the door before the others could say anything. They would freak if they knew what he was about to do, and he didn’t want to hear them argue with him over it. Quite frankly, it seemed like the only way right now. Without a word, Sam left the room, making his way down the hallway of the motel and taking the stairs all the way down into the basement. The maid service’s laundry room was empty, full of steam and the smell of the industrial detergent that was pumped into the large, iron washers that lined the dank walls around him. Sam turned, shutting and locking the door to the laundry room, looking around to make sure that it was in fact all clear as he suspected. It was.
Pulling out the stone, Sam held it in his hand, staring at it. “Okay,” he said aloud. “Time to find out what you can do.” Closing his fingers around it, Sam closed his eyes, his thoughts concentrated on Carson. He focused on what the demon had said. He had to know why Carson was who he was. He had to know about what would push him to this, to know more about Carson. Was he a friend? Was he an enemy? What did Carson Adams want with Sam Winchester?
The warmth in his hand grew, surging up through his arm. Sam opened his eyes to the sensation just as a bright amber glow filled his palm, suddenly blasting out in front of him. The amber orb hovered for a few seconds, Sam staring in wide-eyed shock. Then it grew and grew until a man of Sam’s height could have easily walked through it.
Walked through it? Sam got it in that instant. It was a portal.
He didn’t hesitate. Pocketing the stone again, Sam walked through the amber-colored light, the portal sealing itself closed around him.
Opening Credits roll: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_AqUE4ywfQ
Opening Theme: "Bring Me to Life," Evanscence
Okay… he remembered being on his feet. And not feeling like he had a hangover. As Sam’s eyes slowly opened, he found himself staring at an open expanse of blue sky, lying flat on his back. He pushed himself to sit up, feeling the soft dirt under his hands. A brief instant panic automatically sank in. The last time he woke up this confused on a muddy and dank earth, he had wound up stabbed in the back by night’s end and his brother in Hell a year later.
Sam pushed himself to his feet, and for a brief instant, that panic cemented as he saw in the distance a town quite similar in appearance to Cold Oaks. After a few seconds, Sam realized that this was far from Cold Oaks. So far from it, that it wasn’t even funny. There were people moving back and forth through the streets. People riding on horses in and out of the town. And from behind him, Sam heard what sounded like multiple horse hooves hitting the dirt road he stood on…
Turning, he stared in wide-eyed shock as a horse drawn carriage was barreling towards him, heading in the direction of the town. Sam quickly threw himself out of the way, rolling on to the grass on the side of the road, the carriage passing by with the driver shouting at him, “Stay out the road, ya drunk!”
Sam propped himself up from his new spot on the grass, staring after the carriage in disbelief. “My God,” he said. “I’ve died and gone to Cordell Walker's.” The only comfort of this was that it proved what he held in his pocket was real. The Vicis Oculus worked.
Sam stood, realizing that there was very little left to do at this point but move forward toward the town. He had to figure out where he was, when he was, and most importantly where Carson was.
As Sam made his way further into the town, he began to realize that he was extremely out of place. The period clothing being worn by everyone around him stood out, and there was Sam in jeans, a blue button-up, the leather jacket he had inherited from Dean, and his Pumas. He had to get out of the streets and quickly. He just couldn’t bring himself to pull away from looking around though. Dean would have loved it here; they’d always liked the whole cowboys and Indians thing growing up. Not that they really had a lot of time for playing. To see this up close would have amazed him. The dusty streets, the wooden blanked buildings, the horses that kept passing him back and forth through the street. The things that this stone could do were amazing.
Sam was going to have to force himself to move; people were getting nervous as they watched him and he couldn’t blame them. He quickly trotted off of the main road and up on to the porch of one of the green-painted wooden buildings. Pushing open the door, he walked inside, realizing that it was probably a bad choice. He had just walked into a bank. Whoops.
Everyone inside looked up in curiosity, and then in shock at the sight of Sam in his clothes. Boy, did he feel like crawling under a rock at that moment. Before he could say anything in response, the door behind him swung open again, a voice filling the air.
“Morning, Mister Pritchard. Got Mrs. Jones’ deposit for ya.”
Sam turned, staring in shock at the figure that walked through the door. His hair was much shorter, clean shaven now and wearing an uncharacteristic smile on his likeness, the man that walked into the bank looked nothing like whom Sam was looking for. And the Sheriff’s star on the coat of his black suit was even more uncharacteristic. Carson?
Sam stepped back out of the way, watching as Carson walked up to the bank teller whom he had addressed as Mr. Pritchard, both men smiling brightly at each other as Carson handed him a large straw satchel. Sam just stood in the back out of the way, listening to their exchange. “Thank you, Sheriff,” Mr. Pritchard said, to which Sam couldn't believe. So the badge on his chest… it really did mean that Carson had been a Sheriff?
“How man times have I asked you to call me Jedidiah, Mr. Pritchard?”
The old man laughed. “About as many times as I’ve asked you to call me Smithy. But I ain’t never saw it happen.” Jedediah. So that was his name before he became a demon. It still didn’t answer the questions that Sam needed answered.
He stood a moment longer watching the exchange before the door swung open again, a beautiful young woman walking through. Her dark brown hair was put up in lovely curls inside of a feathered hat, her thick and flowing blue dress showing the wealth that she came from. She held her parasol with grace across the floor as she walked inside and as Carson turned around, his friendly smile melted, a nervous grin gracing his face as he stared at the woman. He tipped his hat to her, nodding as he excused himself from the counter. “Miss Josephine, ma’am,” he said, smiling awkwardly. Even Sam had to smile at the sight. He knew that look well. He’d been there himself before. Carson was in love. By the smile that she seemed to return, it seemed that this Josephine seemed to return those affections.
“Sheriff,” she said gently, nodding. She turned her attention to Mr. Pritchard, but would constantly turn to grin towards Carson. It was quite cute, but Sam had to remind himself that this was the past. This wasn’t the Carson that he knew now. That Carson was quite the bastard.
As were the men that had just walked inside the bank.
Before anyone could move, two men, their faces covered with bandanas, had marched into the banks, old style six-shooters raised and pointed at everyone. Out of instinct, Sam reached for his own weapon, only to find his waistband empty. The stone must not have transported anything but him, itself, and the clothes on his back! Just great... what timing!
“Nobody move!” One man shouted. “ ‘Cept you, old timer. Gimme that bag. Then get back there and open up that safe.” Before Sam could move to defend anyone, Carson had moved forward, catching the eye of one of the men who turned his gun toward him. Carson held up his hands in surrender.
“Not a good idea boys,” Carson warned. “You don’t wanna be doing this.”
“Well, consider we got the drop on you right now, Sheriff,” the second man laughed, “I don’t think there’s much you can do about it.” Sam saw his chance. With a quick motion, he swept the spittoon from the doorway up into his hand, chucking it at the gunman closest to Carson. It gave the Sheriff the time that he needed to draw his gun as the spittoon clanged against the man’s head, distracting him. Mr. Pritchard hit the floor behind the counter as Josephine screamed, ducking low. Sam ducked down and grabbed hold of her, pulling her under him as Carson fired his gun at the first man. As the would-be robber hit the ground, the second turned his gun on him. Carson made his shot before the man was able to pull the trigger, gunning the second down. Both had hit the floor dead, Carson standing victorious.
As Sam stood, helping Josephine to her feet, he could not believe what he had just witnessed. The demon he knew used to be a hero.
“Josephine,” Carson said, rushing to her side, taking her hand in his as he holstered his gun, looking her over in worry. “Are you alright?” She nodded weakly, but didn’t speak from the fear that was clearly visible on her face. Carson looked up at Sam, extending a hand. “I don’t know who you are, stranger, but I thank you much.”
At first, Sam didn’t know if he should take the hand or not. This was Carson, after all. Though as Sam looked at the man, he had to remind himself that this wasn’t the same demon that he knew. This was a mortal man. One who was apparently a good soul… in the time that he obviously had one. So with a smile, Sam extended his hand, taking Carson’s in a firm grip and shaking it. “You're very welcome,” he said. “I’m just passing through, though. No need to worry about me.”
Carson smiled and nodded, then looked back toward the counter. “Mister Pritchard, you better lock that money up quick. I’m gonna get Miss Josephine out of here and back to her family. I’ll call my deputies in to get the bodies out of here.”
“Th-thank you, Sheriff Washington!” The older gentleman stammered nervously. Turning back to the young lady, he slowly walked her out, concern etched across his face. Sam watched them leave, completely floored. Carson, a hero? Carson, in love? It was just a shock to watch in real time. Even seeing it, he was having trouble believing it. Pritchard stood, grabbing the bag from the counter and running top speed for the back of the bank. As he did, Sam felt his pocket beginning to warm suddenly.
Fishing through it, he pulled out the Vicis Oculus, startled to see it beginning to glow, its warmth filling his hand and arm again. “Hey, wait!” He said aloud. “I didn’t tell you to do this! I’m not done yet!” But an amber portal opened in front of him, and unlike the last it grew and grew, enveloping him until Sam was completely covered in the light.
The bright flash of the amber light from the Vicis Oculus filled Sam’s eyes for a moment before he landed again. It didn’t take long before he fell to the ground, dizzy and woozy. God, he didn’t know how much of this type of traveling he could take. He fell to the ground with a hard thud, a low groan escaping him. In the distance he could hear the sounds of nature all around, and he tried to push himself to stand. Finding himself so weak and dizzy from this most recent trip, however, he only hit the ground hard again, and the sounds around him began to fade as his world went black.
“Hey. Hey there, stranger... wake up.” Sam stirred slightly, groaning as he felt a hand lightly shaking him. “Come on, Sir. Wake up.” His eyes opened slowly, groggily, just long enough to see a figure standing over him. He couldn’t make it out, but he knew the voice. It was Carson’s. Before Sam could react, however, he was out again, Carson’s voice fading into the black.
How much time had passed? Sam wasn’t sure. But as the world slowly began to come into focus again, Sam felt the cool sensation of a cloth on his forehead, gently being patted back and forth. Opening his eyes, the blurriness slowly faded away, revealing a familiar face. That of the woman he had seen in the bank. Josephine.
“Oh, so you’re awake now,” she said with a bright smile on her face. Sam started to speak, but she turned her head. “Jedediah! He’s awake!” Sam looked in the direction that she had turned, seeing Carson emerging from a back room. Out of the Sheriff’s clothing that he had worn the last time Sam had seen him, he now sported a pair of brown pants, a white shirt, and black suspenders. Wiping his hands on a towel, he tossed it aside, smiling as he walked into the room.
“Hey there,” he said, moving to stand by the couch. “I thought I recognized you when I brought you in. You’re the guy that helped me out in that bank heist two years back. You’re lucky I found you out there on the road when I did or more robbers would have gotten hold of you. You’d be walking around naked right now.” Carson grinned. “Not that the clothes you’re wearing aren’t strange enough as it is, friend.”
Sam pushed himself up slowly, trying to make sense of what was going on. Looking at the pair, he shook off the grogginess. “Where am I?” He asked.
“Jackson, Mississippi. In my house, to be more specific,” Carson responded. “My name’s Jedediah Washington. This is my wife, Josephine. When you met her she was a Baker.” Josephine smiled down at him, a smile that Sam returned.
“Nice to meet you,” she said.
“Likewise,” Sam replied.
“So, what’s your name, stranger?” Carson asked.
Sam sat in silence for a moment, trying to piece together an idea for a name. After a few seconds, he managed to pull one out of thin air; he should have thought of that before he had traveled back to Carson’s time. “Uh, it’s Andrew,” he said. “Andrew Hamilton.”
God, that sounds lame, he thought, but continued. “I’m from up north, from New York. Just traveling through to visit family.”
Carson laughed, pointing at Sam. “Well that explains the clothes.” Sam smiled, pushing himself up from the couch. His back was a bit sore from his apparent fall, but other than that, he was feeling good. If he was going to make place for himself during his time in the past, he needed to leave. It was going to take some investigating through the town, asking a few questions about Jedediah to try and find out exactly what his story was, and try and figure out what led him to become Carson Adams. So it was time for Sam to leave.
“Well, thanks for helping me out there,” Sam said, "but I should probably get moving. We Hamiltons are an impatient bunch. My mother's probably a nervous wreck right now.” Sam nodded respectfully to Josephine. “Lovely to meet you, ma’am.”
“I’ll walk you out.” Jedediah moved with Sam to the door, opening it for him. Sam walked out, still disbelieving that he was watching Carson keeping a smile on his face. It was total disbelief.
A quick goodbye to Carson and the door shut behind him. Sam didn’t have time to take a step forward however, before another amber portal opened up in front of him. “Aw, come on!” He said aloud. “This is getting ridicu-“
His sentence was cut off as the amber glow surrounded him.
The sound of howling filled Sam’s ears as he started waking up again. Pushing himself to sit up, Sam realized that he was in the midst of bushes by the side of a road. The howling was close, though he couldn’t see the source. Quickly moving to his feet, Sam was stunned to see where he was standing. He and Dean had been here before. Sam himself had stood here once, the Colt taking the life of the demon that ran her disgusting work here. The only difference was that the place where Lloyd’s bar had stood was vacant, the building not being erected yet. The crossroads that had resulted in Dean’s death.
“You rang?” An unfamiliar male voice asked.
Sam turned, seeing Carson standing in the center of the crossroads. In front of him stood a young white man, the howling still sounding all around them. Well that at least answered that particular question. Hell hounds. Carson moved closer to the man, speaking. “My wife. She’s dying. Consumption has taken her and it won't let go. I hear… I've been told that you can fix these kinds of things.”
“I can,” he said, smiling. “That’s what I’m here for.” He walked closer to Carson, moving in a deliberate circle around him, his moves predatorial. “I'll heal your wife for you, but if you try to weasel your way out of this deal in any way, if you try to come back and trick me, then she dies. There will be no wasting away in the pain that she's in now. She will die. Instantly."
“What do I have to do?”
“Nothing. In ten years, my boss will send his pets to you and collect. It's as simple as that."
Carson looked away in thought, obviously wondering what the payment would be, but then back to the man. “So where do I sign?” The demon unraveled a piece of parchment in his right hand. He handed Carson a quill pen. "Where's the ink?"
"It's right here..." The demon trailed off. Using his telekinesis, he forced the pen right through Carson's hand. The future demon screamed in agony. "For this deal to take, the contract must be signed in blood." Carson pulled the pen the remainder of the way through and scribbled his name on the document. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" As Carson hit the ground, holding his injured hand in the other, the demon rolled up the deed to the soul he had just bought and it vanished. The obsidian smoke forced its way up through the host's throat and the man screamed in anguish. He collapsed to the ground, chillingly, and Sam knew he was dead.
But all Sam could think about, could focus on, was Carson. "Carson... what the hell have you done..."
Okay… for someone who was supposed to be the master of this thing, the Vicis Oculus had certainly taken on a mind of its own. Yet another portal had opened up, swallowing Sam and shooting him to the ground again. As he shoved himself to his feet, dusting himself off, he looked up to see that he was outside of Carson’s home that he shared with his wife. How much time had passed? He thought. What year was he in now? The home was just off of the main road, the large two-story brick home just feet from the dusty road that the carriages traveled down. Curious, he made his way across the street, risking the chance to catch someone, despite his appearance.
Spotting a child standing on the side of the road playing, Sam smiled at the young boy. “Hello there,” he said. The child looked up, smiling curiously. “I was wondering… I’m a bit lost. Could you tell me the date?”
“Sure,” the little boy said. “It’s the first of November, Eighteen hundred and thirty-three.” Sam tensed for a brief moment. November first. One day away from…
No, he wouldn’t think about it. Now wasn’t the time. Smiling at the boy, he thanked him and made his way back to Carson’s house. Sam thought at first about knocking on the door, but stopped himself. After what the man had done and the time that had passed, who knew how he would take to seeing Sam again. So he moved to a nearby window to peer in and as he got closer, he could already hear the arguing coming from inside. Looking into the living room, he spotted Carson and his wife Josephine. He was trying to give her a book which she was forcefully shoving back into his hand.
“No!” She screamed. “No… that isn’t possible. You wouldn’t! I won’t accept that! You deserve a second chance, Jed! Why do you have to die on me?”
“Josie, please,” Carson begged. “I want you to understand why. This journal explains why I did it. It’s all that I have left to give you, to show you how much I love you.” Josephine smacked Carson across the face forcefully, turning on her heels towards the door. Sam quickly ran for the bushes on the side of the house, ducking into them as the pair made their way outside, standing on the porch, their argument continuing as Sam listened from his hiding spot. “Darling, please listen to me!” Carson cried out, grasping her arm gently. “I can't undo what I did. If I try, then you die. What I did... I did for you. Please, Josie. Understand that.”
Sam cringed, those words so familiar that it sent a pain through his heart. “I have just twelve more hours, Josie. They will come for me when the clock strikes midnight tonight. This sin... it's unforgivable. But I need you to know why I did it. I need you to understand that what I did, I did to save your life."
Tomorrow? Sam looked away in thought, in shock. Good God… he had more in common with this demon than he realized…
Josephine began crying, shaking her head in denial. Taking off her wedding ring, she studied it for a moment before looking up at Carson. “I love you too,” she whispered. “But I can’t stand here and watch a good Christian man die because he gave himself to the Devil." Tossing her ring into his chest, Josephine turned and quickly ran back inside of the house, shutting the door behind her. Sam heard it lock, and waited for Carson to follow. He didn’t. He only stared at the house with the look of a man defeated, a man that had lost everything. And in that one moment, Sam actually felt pity for him. He gave up everything for love, and still lost what he had fought to save.
Carson dropped the journal on to the porch, turning and walking down the path and going down the street. He walked over to the boy that Sam had talked to earlier. "Charles?"
Carson took a deep breath. "I have to go away for a while."
"Where do you have to go?"
"Don't give it a second thought. Just promise me something?"
"Anything," the boy said, laughing.
"Promise you'll remember me." Carson and the boy embraced each other. Carson turned on his heels and walked away.
Standing, Sam watched as they retreated into the distance, disbelief pouring through him. Twelve hours. The man had not only twelve hours left before his fate was sealed, but it was on the same day as Mom. As Jessica. The irony of it was enough to knock Sam straight to the ground. Turning, he saw the journal where Carson had dropped it, and Sam couldn’t resist. He had to know more. This was what he had come to find out, and more of the details rested in that book. So Sam moved to the porch, sat down, and opened the book. It was time to know Jedediah Washington, just as he was trying to figure out Carson Adams.
Twenty-first of December. Eighteen hundred twenty-one.
Josie has been sick for a couple of months now. Getting tired often, coughing a lot more. And I caught her coughing up blood last month. So I got Doctor Bennett to come and look at her and he said the worst thing he ever could have. He told me she had Consumption. My Josephine. Consumption? It just isn’t possible. Not her. Of all people. She doesn’t deserve this. She’s too good, too sweet. I should get this, not her.
Fifteenth of June. Eighteen hundred twenty-two.
It’s been a year, and still nothing. No cure, nothing that we can find to help, to make it better. She’s dying. My wonderful Josie is dying.
I can’t accept that. I just can't. I won’t. There has to be something that I am missing. Something that I can do or find that can fix this. I’m the danged Sheriff of this town! It’s my job to bring justice. Josephine deserves justice.
Fifth of October. Eighteen hundred twenty-two.
She knows things.
The old woman outside of town. I forgot about her. Everyone is frightened by her and the odd things that she does and says. Her weird magicks and scary sayings. So I went to her house in the middle of the night while Josephine was sleeping. She told me of a way that I could be able to save her. A way that I could help my Josie. A list of all of the things I would need, and the place I needed to go.
A crossroads just outside of town…
Tenth of November. Eighteen hundred twenty-two.
She’s fine! No, she’s better than fine. Josephine is back to normal. She’s cured! Doc Bennett can’t even understand it. What I did, it worked! I don’t know if I can ever explain to my wife what I had to do last night to make this happen. As long as she is alright, I don’t really care. I can live with the knowledge that my wife will live. That the love of my life will be happy and healthy. For what I had to do, it was worth it. Josephine will always be worth it.
Twenty-eighth of July. Eighteen hundred twenty-three.
Kids? I’ll be darned.
Josephine is talking about wanting to have kids now. Can you picture that? Me, a daddy. I have been thinking about it ever since she mentioned it, and I can’t stop smiling. Walking through town with a little girl holding my hand. Showing my son how to shoe the horses. Even the small things like changing them and cleaning them make me all giddy. But the second that I start to get happy about it, I think about the fact that I have so little time left. I won’t be around to see them finish school. To see them get married. I won’t be around to be a grandfather.
What I did, I did for good reasons. I did it for my Josie. But how can I make a family with her now, when I don’t have much time left.
First of September. Eighteen hundred twenty-four.
I have to do this for Josie. She really wants a child or two. I have it all planned. A rose resting softly on her pillow. A crisp bottle of wine chilling on the nightstand. No lights. It'll be a night in Heaven before I have to venture into Hell.
Nineteenth of February. Eighteen hundred twenty-six.
My boy. He's so beautiful. Little Charles. I don't have the words to describe him. It saddens me that when I die, he'll only be seven. But I swear. He'll know his daddy before his daddy's gone.
Twelfth of September. Eighteen hundred thirty-three.
I finally found the journal. I lost it years ago. I wish I could tell you everything about the last seven years. Charles. Josie.
Two months. I only have two months left, and then they’ll come for me. I have no fear for what will happen to me. I did what I did for good reasons and I'm not afraid to die because of it. But it is Josephine and Charles that I am worried about. What will happen to them? What are they going to do without me here? How are they going to cope without me? I haven’t explained a thing to either of them about what is going on, about what I have done... about what will happen. I’ll simply die, and she will never know what happened, or for what reasons. She’ll have to live in grief, wondering why it happened.
I can’t do that. I have to tell her. I have to explain. So I’ll have to write down the full details in this journal.
To my darling Josephine and my wonderful son Charles,
What I am about to write, and what you have read before, are not only my last words to you both, but also an explanation of what happened. Of why I did what I did. Just remember that I did it for you, Josie. That I did it because I love you. I want you to live a long and happy life, and never have to carry the grief of my passing.
It was a short time after you fell ill...
Sam shut the journal, sitting it off to the side of the porch. The anger and confusion that he held for Carson had temporarily melted away. Nothing that aggravated him about the demon was there at the moment. Only pity and sorrow for Jedediah struck him. He understood why the man did what he did. He understood all too well. Sam was alive for the same reasons. His brother suffering for the same reasons. It took a unique person that truly cared about another to risk themselves like that. So despite the anger that he still felt towards the demon, he couldn’t fight the sliver of understanding and respect that welled up for Carson.
At least now, Sam knew where Carson had once stood. Now, he had to figure out where all of them stood when it came to him in their present time.
Sam didn’t have any more time to contemplate this at all before he heard the familiar sound of a gun being cocked at the side of his head. Slowly, Sam turned to look in that direction, seeing Josephine on the porch, aiming one right at his head. Her face was puffy and red from crying, contorted in anger until she saw who it was.
“Mr. Hamilton,” she said, still not moving the gun. “It’s been a long time."
"Yes, it has, Mrs. Washington." Sam paused, coming up with a quick lie. "Is the Sheriff at home? I'd like to have a word with him."
"He actually left for the day, but I can tell him..." Her voice trailed off as she noticed something about Sam. "My, you haven't aged a day since I last saw you. That has to be a good ten years or so." Sam didn’t respond. He made a small and discreet movement into his pocket to grasp hold of the Vicis Oculus. It was obviously time to go home now. He had learned all that he could, and with a gun to his head, he wasn’t about to take any more chances.
As the two stood there in silence, Josephine’s eyes widened in shock, her gaze growing angry. “You! Not aging at all… what my Jedediah did… it all makes sense! You’re the beast that my Jedediah sold his soul to!” As Josephine’s hand tensed on the gun, Sam gripped the stone tighter.
“Home!” He shouted quickly. The stone warmed in his hand, a portal opening as quickly as Sam had ever seen it open. It swallowed him up yet again, and Sam was blinded by the amber glow as he was hopefully transported back to his current time.
Another bright flash and rather painful landing later, Sam found himself lying on a rather scratchy and hard surface that felt like the mattress of his motel room. Opening his eyes, Sam looked around and realized that he was in that very room. He was back in Motown.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Sam reached behind him, feeling in the waistband of his jeans to see if his gun was back where he had placed it before the stone had taken him back. To his relief, it was. And that meant that his phone was as well. Taking it out of his pocket, Sam called Travis quickly. It barely rang but once before the man answered.
“Hello?" A voice that wasn't Travis' asked.
“Uhh… who is this? Where's Travis Sheridan?"
"You're speaking to him. Who is this?" The voice was so deep. It couldn't be Travis.
"Sam Winchester. Now who is this?"
The man hung up. Sam redialed. "This isn't funny," the man said. "Sam's been missing for four years. So don't you dare call back pretending to be him or I swear to God, I'll hunt you down and I will kill you." The man hung up again.
Sam just stood there dumbfounded. Four years? It couldn't be. He walked over to the counter that he remembered the digital clock being on and it was in the same location. He stared in spurning as the date that bored back at him was Wednesday, December 19th, 2012.
Carson stood in the shadows under the awning of Carrigan's Clothing as he watched for Sam, Ruby, and Travis to vacate their motel in Detroit, Michigan. Ruby and Travis walked out the front door, but Sam wasn't in tow. Carson heard the roar of the Impala's engine as it started up and saw Ruby and Travis drive away.
Carson ran across the street. This was his chance to get Sam to listen to him. As he walked through the door, however, he ran, face first, into a woman. She had flowing brown hair and luminous brown eyes that reminded him of someone. She dropped the papers and books she was carrying which knocked Carson out of his trance. "I'm sorry. Let me help you with those."
He put the papers back together and stuck them inside the book. She put it on top of the other book and picked them both up. "Thanks. I'm Casey. This is my son, Logan."
"I'm Carson. Carson Adams." Her voice started to register. Who was this woman? Who was this boy? He couldn't shake the feeling that this woman looked familiar to him. And the young man standing next to her was a wake-up call too. The two exited the motel and Carson just stared at them. He finally realized it. "Josephine? Charles?"
End Credits roll: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ykYPPEE5cTo
Ending Theme: "Somewhere," Within Temptation
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