By Ridley C. James

Beta: Tidia

Disclaimer: Nothing Supernatural belongs to us.


Chapter 9 - D'engringolade

D`egringolade n: a rapid decline or deterioration (as in strength or condition) : downfall

Bobby stepped outside, moved away from the house until he reached the Impala. He leaned against the hood, pulling his cell phone from his pocket. Delilah wriggled from beneath her favorite junker, sauntered to where Bobby stood. The Rottweiler sat on Bobby’s boots, leaning her massive body against his legs for a rub down.

Bobby scratched the dog’s head as he listened to the phone ringing on the other end. He sent a quick glance to the house, confident Dean would stay at his post.


“Where the hell are you, Junior?”

“Have I told you lately how good your John Winchester impersonation is getting, Sanford?”

Bobby grunted. Any other time the smart ass reply might have been comforting. Right now he felt irritated that Caleb wasn’t with Dean and Sam. “Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, drop it and get your ass to my place ASAP. I need your help here.”

“That’s going to be a little difficult considering I’m in Hawaii.”

“What?” Bobby stepped away from the car, pressing the phone closer to his ear, hoping to hell he didn’t hear Caleb right. “Did you say Hawaii?”

“Lanai City, actually. Triad business. Dean didn’t tell you?”

“No, he didn’t.” Bobby’s frustration rose. What were the boys thinking? Armageddon was at hand. “You picked a hell of a time to go on vacation, Kid.”

“If I were going on a vacation I sure the hell wouldn’t have picked a dime-sized piece of volcano ash in the middle of the fucking ocean. I’m here to see Victor. The retired Scholar couldn’t be bothered to return mine or Riley’s calls or emails so I invaded his own private paradise.”

Bobby remembered their conversation from a few weeks ago. Caleb was determined to find out about the mysterious Triad power and Advisor journals. “You’re still sniffing out that Benjamin Mosley lead?”

Bobby heard the telltale sigh, could picture the look of self-recrimination on Caleb’s face.

“For all the good it did me. Good old Victor is playing it all close to the vest. Having a conversation with him is like verbal chess and his psychic ability keeps me from reading him without it getting nasty.”

“Well forget about him.” Even if Caleb could pull something from the past Scholar, it wouldn’t be what they needed. “I want you home. Now.”

“Why? What the hell is so urgent?”

“Dean and Sam are here.”

“I thought they were tracking down Castiel’s meat suit?”

Bobby rubbed at a speck of mud on the Impala’s emblem. “You know about that?”

“Deuce called me on their way to Illinois. Did something happen?”

“Doesn’t it always?” Nothing ran smooth with the Winchesters. They were cursed.

“Are they okay?”

He recognized the fear and uncertainty in Caleb’s voice. As much as he would have liked to have had a better answer, he was never one to sugar coat it for the boys. “No. They’re in a bad way.”

“They’re hurt? But I haven’t felt anything…”

Bobby rushed to cut him off. “They’re not injured-not exactly. Sam’s strung out.”

“I’m not following you.”

“He’s been drinking demon blood.”

“What? That’s insane.”

“So is bargaining your soul to a bunch of demons, and using a fucking amulet you know is going turn you inside out, but nobody has ever accused you chuckle heads of being the brightest in the bunch.”

“Goddamnit Sammy. How long?”

“I’d wager it started when Dean went to Hell. The kid’s been using the stuff like supernatural steroids.” Bobby wasn’t surprised by the lengths the Winchesters or Caleb would go. He didn’t know whether to admire the hell out of their tenacity, or rage about how completely fucked up they all were. Either way, he inevitably blamed John. Caleb had someone else in mind.


“I would pin her as the supplier. She probably worked the kid like any good drug dealer would. Got him at a low point, boasted the pros of juicing up, mix in a little hanky-panky and she set her hook good.” Sam was a perfect mark. Anger, grief, and fear were all emotions that primed someone for a demon possession. Demon infusion was just the next step up.

“I’m going to rip that bitch from limb to limb.”

“Get in line.”

“It definitely explains the boost in his abilities, why I couldn’t read him. I can’t fucking believe I missed it. The way he was acting after these last few hunts…the high he was on. I should have paid more attention when he started acting completely off…saying crazy shit.”

“Well you and Dean can play the should’ve, could’ve, would’ve game all you want, it ain’t going to help Sam one damn bit.”

“Can you help him?”

It was the same thing Dean asked him. Bobby didn’t have the quick answer for Caleb either. “We put him in the panic room to dry out.”

“Will that work? Going cold turkey?”

“Considering Betty Ford hasn’t branched out to the hunting world, I’m guessing it’s our only avenue.” Bobby scratched his beard. He hadn’t run across a case like Sam’s. The closest research he’d done had been for Mac about Caleb. Being born with demon blood and ingesting it would obviously produce two different effects. “We’ll have to play it by ear, like with Seaver’s bobble.”

“Bobby I was out of it for weeks when I used the amulet and I’d only been under its effects for a few months.”

“I didn’t say it was going to be easy, Junior or pretty to watch.” Bobby could still hear Sam screaming at them to let him out. It was only going to get worse. “Like I said, I’m doing the only thing I know, cutting the off the head of the snake.”

“What about Mac? Do you think Dad might be able to do something? At least make the process easier?”

Bobby took a deep breath, refrained from pointing out that making Sam’s life easier could be one of the reasons they were at this point. “Dean doesn’t want your old man involved.”

“That makes sense. We haven’t exactly clued The Scholar in on the whole Ruby thing.”

“Yeah. I got that.” Mackland was going to kick his ass, but Bobby knew the less people who knew about the future Scholar’s venture off the tried and true path the better. Not only would Sam be out of the running for The Triad, Caleb would be discounted due to their similarities, and the future Guardian would come off looking like a dupe. “But The Brotherhood is doing some damage control. Jimmy’s family will be looked after.”

“What about Dean’s angel buddies? They can’t lift a wing after all he’s been through for the cause?”

“It seems Dean’s guardian angel has been relieved of duty.” Bobby had suggested the same thing. “He pretty much told the kid to kiss off.”

“Cas broke up with Deuce? What the hell?”

Bobby snorted at Caleb’s indignation. “Apparently they’re a fickle bunch.”

“Pastor Jim would be disappointed. He would have expected more.”

Bobby missed Jim’s unique spin on things. He couldn’t imagine how the past Guardian could find a bright spot in what was happening but they all missed his guidance. “I think this is all more convoluted than Jim ever imagined.”

“How’s Deuce holding up?”

“He thinks he’s up for it.” Bobby glanced towards the house. “I think he’s being optimistic.”

“Why the hell didn’t he call me?”

“One guess.”

“He’s protecting Sam.”

“Something like that.” Dean was scrambling to salvage the last vestiges of his family. Sam was slipping through his fingers. Bobby had witnessed the boy go through that loss once before, and this scenario had the possibility of being so much worse.

“This isn’t going to turn into another Cold Oak, Bobby. I won’t let it.”

He didn’t know if Caleb was reading him or had drawn the same conclusions himself. “How fast can you get here?However this goes down, they’re going to need you, kid.”

“I’ll hop the next water taxi to Honolulu and pick up a private jet from there. Whatever it takes, I’m on my way.”

“Good. Call me as soon as you get stateside.”



“Don’t let them out of your sight.”

Bobby heard the unspoken plea. Keep them safe. Don’t let us lose them again. He was getting too damn old for this shit. “I’m on the job, Lancelot. Just get yourself here in one piece.” Dean wasn’t the only one desperate to save a family.



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