The Reckoning

The Reckoning

A Supernatural story by Celina @redbanshee

It's another entry in the #SPNWishList fic and art challenge! Celina wanted to explore what might have become of twin witches/hunters Max and Alicia, after Max made a deal to bring Alicia back to life. Both their voices and Sam's ring so true in this one...  Enjoy! -- Jennie

Alicia’s blade sang through the air, connecting with the ghoul’s neck and severing its head cleanly, but not before the ghoul had shoved her backward. The sound of the wood rail splintering almost masked the thud of the head falling to the floor, and Alicia began to plummet through the broken railing and into the open air.

Max watched as time slowed to a crawl, dilating as Alicia fell; he ran toward her, reaching a hand to stay her fall, but it was akin to swimming through molasses. He reached her, grasped the fabric of her shirt but felt it slip through his fingers in slow motion.

He watched, helplessly, as she crashed into the table in the foyer, the snap of her back cracking against the edge echoing like a gunshot.

Time then sped up, and Max was flying down the stairs, hitting the floor at the bottom at a dead run and falling on his knees at her side, but knowing it was already too late. Sightless eyes gazed up at the ceiling, her left arm twisted at an unnatural angle above her head. Her body was all but split in two over the rim of the shattered table under her.

Max didn’t even stop to think. Turning his focus to the ring on his finger, he began to recite the spell that would rejuvenate her, eyes glowing purple as his magic took hold.

This wasn’t the first time he’d had to work the restoration spell. Alicia was one hell of a hunter, but she was always a little reckless and became more so each time she survived another hunt she shouldn’t have. Most of the time he didn’t even have to do anything -- a broken finger, a twisted ankle, and Alicia would just… fix herself, and never stop to think about it. But on the occasions where she was just a little too reckless or just a tiny bit too slow and got herself knocked out and unable to repair herself, Max would eliminate the threat and then work the spell to bring her back.

The sound of snapping twigs filled the room as Alicia’s limbs began to right themselves, mending and pulling back together. So focused was he on her restoration, he failed to hear the sound of footsteps running in from the left side of the foyer.

He did, however, notice the sound of a shotgun round being racked.

“What the hell are you doing, Max?” Sam Winchester growled, his voice low and threatening. Max looked up and directly into the barrel of that weapon, Sam’s hazel eyes coldly regarding him over the gun sights.

Max froze, but didn’t stop.

This might not have been the first time he’d had to restore Alicia -- but he’d never had to restore such a dire injury before, and certainly not with Sam Winchester holding him at gunpoint.

A groan came from the floor, drawing both their attention, and Alicia rose, pulling herself into a sitting position. She first glanced at Max, her eyes going wide as she saw Sam slide around to the side, shotgun raised, aim steady. Finally, she glanced up at the splintered banister, then down to the shattered table under her.

“Well, I guess I really did it this time, didn’t I?” She looked up at Max, a lopsided grin on her face. “Did I at least get the sonofabitch that did me?”

Before Max could answer, Alicia groaned and reached for her leg, grimacing as it straightened on its own, the underlying twigs and branches creaking against each other as they righted themselves, the surrounding skin knitting over the top of them.

Max glanced up at Sam and saw the moment when his horror turned to anger as he swiveled the shotgun back on Max.

“The deal… you took the demon deal from the witch, didn’t you?” Sam said flatly, and Max was unable to determine if he heard more anger or disappointment in the man’s voice.

“Well… shit,” Alicia grumbled to Max, casting a sidelong glance at Sam. “Looks like the jig is up.”

~~~***~~~

Sam waited until Alicia was fully healed, and as she rose to her feet, he jerked the shotgun in her direction. “Slowly,” he barked, “both of you.” Max and Alicia got up, hands slightly raised, and Sam motioned toward the living room area of the house with the barrel of the shotgun. They got the hint and headed that way, Sam following them with his weapon leveled.

They reached the living room and Sam motioned to the couch. “Sit.”

They both hastily complied, and Sam took the chair across from them. He lowered the shotgun but still held it at the ready.

Sam had seen Max’s spellwork before, knew how fast he was -- and that was before he had acquired demonic magic.

“OK. Spill,” Sam barked.

“How… why are you here?”

“Same as you, following a case.” Sam waved the shotgun at him again. “So again -- spill."

Max shrugged. “Well, you know how it works. The ring…”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam interrupted curtly. “Dean said you turned the witch down. What changed?”

He watched as Max glanced at Alicia, who gave him a small nod and took his hand.

“I told you guys that I would take care of burning the bodies, and that was my intention,” Max started, eyes cast down. “But when I saw Alicia lying on that bed…” He paused and raised a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, and Alicia squeezed his other hand again. “I saw the ring and the book on the nightstand, and…” Max looked up at Sam this time, eyes pleading, and Sam knew the look -- he was pretty sure he’d worn that same look on his own face before.

“She’s all you had left,” Sam finished for him, then sighed when Max nodded in agreement.

He turned to Alicia. “And how did you feel about this?”

“Oh, I didn’t know… not for a long time,” she replied. “It wasn’t until I broke my leg running after a werewolf and saw not only that my leg was made of twigs but also that it repaired itself…  I realized I never made it out of that house.”

“And you were OK with that?” Sam sputtered in surprise. He could only imagine what that revelation must have been like.

Alicia laughed, and Sam had to marvel at how thorough the magic that powered her was -- she sounded no different than she had when she was… alive? Well, herself. “Oh, hell, no. I was not OK with it, at first,” she admitted.

“Oh, no, she was not,” Max interjected.

“But we had a job to do, so we had to finish it,” Alicia continued. “And while we were hunting and fighting and finally finishing off that werewolf, I realized that I didn’t feel any different -- I still felt exactly like myself; all my memories and feelings and abilities were the same.” She looked back up at Sam, and tapped her chest, where her heart was, “and this is all me as well.”

Sam frowned. “While that may be true,” he started, then turned a wary look at Max, “that magic still gives you the ability to control her.”

Max startled Sam by barking a laugh, casting an amused grin at his twin. “Control? Please.” He turned back to Sam, eyes dancing. “Do tell me, have you ever tried to control Dean?” At Sam’s blank look, he continued, “Yeah, I thought so.”

Max sobered as he continued. “I think the witch was able to control the others…” He paused, a stricken look flashing across his face, “and my mom, because she didn’t  care about them, and they weren’t familiar with her.” Turning back to smile at Alicia, “She’s my twin. She knows me, knows what I’m thinking, sometimes even before I think it.”

Sam turned to Alicia for confirmation, and she nodded. “I assure you, I’ve never done anything I didn’t explicitly set out to do,” she said.

“Goddess knows, I sometimes wish I could control her…” Sam’s head snapped back to Max, alarmed at the admission, and Max threw up his hands, chuckling. “Not for anything nefarious, I promise.” He threw a chastising glance in Alicia’s direction. “Ever since she discovered she’s basically indestructible, she’s become very reckless.” He gestured toward the foyer. “Case in point.” Alicia scoffed and waved him off.

Sam couldn’t help but smile at their interaction, reminding him so much of his and Dean’s “arguments,” but another realization sobered him. “Max, still, this… ability, this magic -- it’s a form of demon deal. You’re borrowing a demon’s magic in exchange for the right to your soul when you die, unless you pass the deal on to someone else.”

Max nodded, his expression grim. “I know… and I’m working on a solution for that.” The corner of his mouth pitched slightly upward in a sardonic grin. “But in the meantime, the magic keeps me at my current fabulousness, and I have a basically indestructible bodyguard to keep me from an untimely demise and my soul out of the clutches of Hell.” Turning to Alicia, he took her hand again. “Besides, she’s my sister. Of course I would give up my soul for her.” Max turned to meet Sam’s gaze, and Sam knew what was coming.

“I think you can relate.”

Indeed, Sam could.

“OK, so let me get this straight. Alicia keeps you from being killed, your magic keeps her alive and you both ageless, and in the meantime, you try to find a way to get out of this deal.” Alicia and Max both nodded.

“So you know Dean and I are sitting on a trove of information, right?” Sam pointed out. “Why didn’t you come to us for help in figuring this out?”

Max fixed him with a skeptical look. “Uh-huh, sure… and how do you think that would have gone?” Max countered. “Look at how you reacted here!”

“You surprised me!” But Sam had to acknowledge that Max was probably right -- the information would not have gone down well, at least at the time. But things were different now.

“I get it, I do. But… well, a lot of things have changed since then.”

Alicia nodded soberly. “We’ve heard through the grapevine -- a war against God himself.”

“Yeah, pretty much...” Sam paused, as an idea came to him. “We could use your help.”

“What about Dean?” Max inquired. “I have a hard time believing he’s going to be OK with this situation,” he said, hand waving between himself and Alicia.

“War against God,” Sam reminded them. “And we’re going to need all hands on deck. He’ll come around.” He  glanced back and forth between them. “So, what do you say… you guys on board?”

He watched as the twins turned to each other, could almost see the silent communication flow between them. They turned back to him and nodded their acceptance.

Sam smiled, setting down the shotgun and rising from the chair to extending a hand toward them. “Great! When we have an actual game plan, I’ll call.” He gave Alicia a hug, once again amazed at the spellwork. If he hadn’t seen the snapped twigs and stems of her broken body stitch back together with his own eyes, he never would have believed it.

Next, he turned to Max. “In the meantime, I’ll do some research, see if I can find anything on getting you out of this deal.” No need to tell him about the new addition to the bunker’s library -- all of Rowena’s spellbooks, along with the Black Grimoire and the Book of the Damned. Max might not have gone dark side yet, but the potential was there, and Sam would rather prevent it from happening then have to deal with it later.

He pulled Max in for a hug. “Keep your nose clean, Max,” he warned. “If I hear about you breaking bad…”

Max barked a sharp laugh. “I know, I know.”

“Don’t worry, Sam. I won’t let him.” Alicia assured him, placing a hand on Max’s shoulder as Sam released him.

Sam believed it. If anyone could, it would be her.