Description: Summary inside :)
rayuk666 - June 16, 2007 01:49 PM (GMT)
rayuk666 - June 16, 2007 01:50 PM (GMT)
Since time began, there has always been good and evil. Always two forces forever fighting to be on top but both sides knowing that in order to exist, there must be a balance. Both sides have many names, in many different cultures and religions. The ultimate power of good seen as a god and to some – The God. The forces of evil seen as demons and devils, but one devil is meant to have committed more sins than all the others put together because he was the first – the first personification of evil.
He was the one to tempt the ‘first’ children of God with the forbidden fruit. Only they weren’t the first children, he was in fact one of the first, along with Gabriel and Michael and all of the other angels. Perhaps it was on jealousy he acted or perhaps his destiny was predetermined when he was born.
He was the one to be guilty of such a vain pride, stating that one day he would rise above God and for this act of vanity he was thrown from heaven and into a hell that would determine the rest of his immortal life.
The fallen angel went on to tempt another child of God as he wandered starving in the desert. But this child would not be swayed and he stunk of failure. But all those wars he’d caused had been great successes. He is widely known by many names: The Devil, Prince of Darkness, Satan and the more ironic – Lucifer, a name meaning the bearer of light.
After millennia of fighting, any soul is sure to tire and grow weary. He, the big guy, could see it as he watched his wayward son. This was not a path either would have chosen but in order for the world and everything in and around it to exist, there needed to be a balance and Lucifer was the one to stop the scales toppling over onto the side of good. He’d done so much evil to keep the balance right that on the day that he received his once in a lifetime offer for redemption, he was sure he had misheard. The offer gave him the chance to leave his immortal life and be reborn as just an ordinary human with an ordinary destiny, meaning he could live a normal ordinary life and have a chance to regain his seat in heaven.
But when you have an extraordinary soul, you should not expect the ordinary because sometimes there are forces in play besides that of God and your own free will. And sometimes when you were predestined for something, you can’t escape your destiny. And besides, when the leader of Hell up and disappears, certain higher level demons are going to notice.
But that was nearly three decades ago. He was now a healthy twenty eight year old with no memory of past lives and past deeds yet he was still living a far from normal and ordinary life. After all, the words ‘normal’ and ‘ordinary’ just do not appear in Dean Winchesters vocabulary.
rayuk666 - June 16, 2007 01:53 PM (GMT)
“Dude! Possessed pets?”
“Don’t you wanna check out Fido the Hun?”
“No Dean, not particularly.”
“If you wanna take some time off from the hunt, all you need do is say so.”
“I don’t wanna take time off, I wanna check out Fido. Besides, it’s on our way to the Roadhouse.”
“Well I can think of a much quicker route that wouldn’t involve seeing ‘possessed pets’.”
“My car, my rules.” Dean replied simply. They’d been arguing for the past two hours about the same subject and they were no closer to compromise. Dean, determined to fuel the big immature kid in him, wanted to check out a story in the paper about an owner’s dog suddenly going nuts whilst Sam just wanted to head over to the Roadhouse and see if Ash had anything new.
“You know what it’ll be, don’t you?”
“No jerk, rabies. As in if the damn thing bites you you’re gonna need a shot.”
“I’m great with animals.”
“Oh yeah, that’s why you’ve still got that scar on your left leg from where that Labrador bit you when you were a kid.”
“That wasn’t my fault.”
“You poked it with a stick!”
“You tripped me!”
“No I didn’t, I was like a foot away.”
“More like you had your foot in the way.” Dean grumbled, shaking the childhood memory from his head and going back to concentrating on the road.
Sam looked down at the newspaper article again and sighed, there was no way he was getting out of this. Dean had his mind set and there was just no changing it. Animal possessions weren’t a common thing, especially not in this day and age and when they did happen, it was very rare that it happened to a household pet. It just seemed pointless, why possess a pet when you can go after a lion or a bear?
“Remind me again why I don’t just kick your ass out the driver’s seat.”
“’Cause I’m the big brother and…” But Dean’s reply was cut off by a gentle background music coming from Sam’s pocket, “You gonna answer it?”
Sam rolled his eyes and pulled out the phone, confusion crossing his face as he noticed it was the roadhouse, “Hello?”
“Sam, thank God. It’s Ellen. You with Dean?” Ellen’s voice echoed out of the speaker.
“Yeah, what going on? Ash got a lead?”
“No. Look Sam, bunch of guys were in earlier looking for a hunter, looking for Dean actually.”
“I don’t think so. They scared the hell out of a few regulars, I dunno what they were but they looked dangerous.”
“When you say ‘what’…”
“I mean your kind of ‘what’, yeah.”
“Catch any names? Details?”
“No names, just asked where ‘Dean Winchester’ was and wouldn’t leave ‘til someone gave them answers. I sent them to Arizona so if you’re anywhere near there, get the hell away and stay clear of this place for awhile.”
“We’re nowhere near Arizona but we were making our way over to you guys. Ellen, did they say what they wanted?”
“Besides your brother? No. Didn’t mention what they planning on doing if they ever found him so just watch your backs, okay? Lay low for a bit.”
“Will do. Thanks Ellen.”
Once he’d hung up, Sam just stared at his phone. That had to be one of the weirdest phone calls he’d had, and he’d had a lot of weird phone calls - most of them involving their Dad.
Sam looked up at Dean; he’d almost forgotten he was even there.
“Gonna tell me what that was about?”
“It was Ellen – she said she had some guys at the roadhouse looking for you. She sent them to Arizona…” Sam frowned, “She was just calling to warn us.”
“What? Who were they?”
“More like ‘what’ which unfortunately Ellen doesn’t know.”
“Oh great… what have I done to gain this honour?”
Sam looked towards Dean suspiciously, eyes studying him, “Have you done anything?”
“What? Dude! No!”
Sam turned to look out the passenger window, sceptic about Dean’s words. Dean had a habit of getting on the wrong side of bad guys. “Ellen’s right though, if there’s someone looking for you, we’ve gotta lay low for a bit.”
“There’s someone always looking for one of us but if you insist on lying low then we could just keeping heading for Mississippi and that crazy woman – what?” Dean stopped what he was saying when he caught the look his brother was giving him.
“So you do admit you think she’s crazy?”
“Her sanity is not in question here, Sammy. Whether or not she is crazy has nothing to do with the possibility that her dog may be possessed.”
Sam shook his head and closed his eyes; this was going to be a long drive.
rayuk666 - June 16, 2007 01:55 PM (GMT)
Nancy Towers stood at her back window, arms wrapped around her midsection and tears threatening to stream down her face. Her eyes never left the cage at the end of the garden where a German Shepherd paced. Shane was always such a good loyal dog, he was great with kids and spent many hours chasing and being chased by rabbits. But then last week, when Nancy went to open his cage and give him breakfast, he was like a completely different dog. He’d latched his jaw around her left arm and Nancy was sure he’d damn near broken it.
When she had finally gotten him to release her and locked him up safely in the cage, she’d had to ask her neighbour to take her to the hospital where she’d needed several stitches. She was in denial that something was wrong with her beloved Shane. Her sister had been over the previous night and had begged her to get rid of him or put him to sleep. But Nancy had been with the five year old dog since he was a pup – she couldn’t just let him go, not without an explanation.
A gentle rapping echoed through her hallway and pulled Nancy from her thoughts. She tore her gaze away from the dog and made her way to the door, opening it to find two young gentlemen.
“Can I help you?” She asked.
“We’re with Animal Control ma’am.” The tallest spoke, his eyes gentle.
“You’re here about Shane aren’t you? Someone’s complained? I don’t know why – he hasn’t hurt anyone.”
“Except you?” The shortest asked, nodding towards the bandage on her arm.
“It wasn’t his fault. He’s not himself – I know no one believes me but he’s… he’s possessed or something…”
“Ma’am, we’ve just come to check him out. We’re not going to do anything with him.”
She nodded and opened the door wide enough to let them in and closed it behind them, “He’s out back…”
“In a cage. I used to breed them but that was years ago now. Shane was from the last litter.” She led them out towards the back and as soon as the door began to open, a rough deep and extremely vicious barking started.
“We’re probably better off going over alone.” The shortest said simply, glancing over as the dog began to settle and instead went back to pacing, growling only slightly.
Nancy opened her mouth to object but when dealing with officials, it was never normally any use so she nodded and went back inside and took up her position at the back window again.
“So what you think?” Dean asked as they approached the dog.
“I just don’t see why it would be possessed.” Sam mumbled, “It does seem kind of angry… but possession?”
They stopped about a foot away from the cage and Dean placed the bag he was holding on the ground, kneeling down to unzip it, “So how do we test a dog?”
“Holy water I guess.” Sam shrugged and watched as the dog sat himself down in front of his brother, head titled to the side and ears perked up.
Dean had caught sight of the dog’s movement as well and glanced over to Sam, “Okay… not what I expected from a possessed mutt…”
Sam rolled his eyes as he watched Dean stand up slowly and take two steps to the left. Shane stood up too and followed Dean before sitting down again as Dean stopped moving, ears perked up and his mouth open in one of those doggish grins, “I think he likes you.”
“I think he’s freaking me out a little.” Dean muttered now taking several steps to the right and away from Shane. As soon as he started moving Shane stood up and padded along next to him.
Okay, so it was kind of freaky and a little creepy how the dogs eyes never seemed to leave Dean but he couldn’t help but grin as he knelt down in front of it, placing his hand on the ground and commanding, “Down Boy.”
Without hesitation, Shane obeyed, lowering himself gently.
Sam laughed, heading over to the bag on the floor to take the EMF metre out, “Looks like this is going to be bust.”
“You’re just a big softy after all.” Dean spoke to Shane, eyes glistening slightly as long lost thoughts came knocking on his mind’s door. He’d always wanted a dog, especially one like this, loyal and obedient and just the right size to scare off anyone who was too wary.
“Just don’t get too close.” Sam warned, “We still don’t know that he hasn’t actually got rabies or something.”
“Oh come on, look at that face. That is not the face of a rabid dog.” Dean pushed himself off the ground and walked closer to the cage, beckoning Shane. Shane came padding closer too and sat obediently pressed again the wire whilst Dean poked his fingers through the fence and scratched behind his ear.
Sam took a deep breath and reached out to pull Dean away, he didn’t like how close he was to the dog even if there was a fence separating the two. As soon as his hand grabbed hold of Dean’s arm ready to spin him away, several things happened. Shane suddenly jumped up against the fence, barking like a hell hound, baring his teeth and splashing the brothers with saliva; Sam felt himself stumble backwards in surprise and not really meaning to, he took Dean with him slightly, who tripped over his own feet and landed flat on his arse and lastly, Ms Towers came running out the back door as fast as she could asking them if they were okay.
Shane continued barking madly and Nancy tried her best at telling him to be quiet but he just wasn’t listening. Dean found himself slightly shocked and dazed by what had just happened, though amused all the same. After all, they’d faced all kinds of creatures and somehow this dog had managed to catch both brothers off guard.
“Are you okay?” Nancy repeated, trying to make herself heard over the racket Shane was making.
“We’re fine. My partner just got a little too close is all.” If it wasn’t for the still raging dog, Sam would have found it funny how he’d reacted but instead he felt relieved that Dean was once again a foot away from the fence.
“Are you kidding? That’s the closet anyone’s got to him all week.”
Sam was just about to reply when he heard a familiar noise coming from near by. He looked down to see the EMF metre he’d managed to drop during the small commotion, “Erm… Ms Towers, we really are fine. We can handle this, I swear. But we’ve still got a few things to do so if you just head back to the house and we shouldn’t take long.”
Nancy grimaced at being told to go back the house once again by these strangers but did as she was asked. Dean meanwhile pulled himself off the ground and dusted himself off, glancing between Nancy, Sam and Shane. Shane had stopped jumping up at the fence and instead had gone back to pacing and growling, watching them.
“That was…” Dean started, trying to think of a fitting word but all he could come up with was, “…weird.”
Sam bent down and picked the EMF metre up, “Looks like we’ve got something going on after all.”
“So he is possessed?” Dean asked.
“It doesn’t mean he’s possessed.” Sam grunted, “We both know how animals can change if they witness something supernatural, so maybe we’re just seeing the after effects of something.”
“Sceptic.” Dean muttered.
“It’s just… what’s the point? It’s a dog? It’s a dog that’s locked up and will probably end up being put down in a week or two… where’s the sense in possessing it?”
“You want proof? Pass me the holy water or better yet why don’t I just say ‘Christo’?” Dean stared intently at Sam, daring him to object but the look on his brother’s face made him turn to look back at Shane.
He barely caught the momentary flash of glowing red eyes and a snarl but it was enough to make him realise that yes, he was in fact right. The dog in front of them was possessed.
“At least it chose a German Shepherd and not some miniature poodle…”
“Dean… do you realise what this means?”
“We have to perform and exorcism on a dog? Dude, that’s kinda…”
“Low?” Sam suggested, “You know you wanted to come here.”
“I didn’t expect it to really be possessed… I mean… I dunno but it’s a dog! What sort of demon possesses a dog?”
Sam had to laugh; now that Dean had been proven right he actually agreed with his younger brothers reasons for disbelieving. “Obviously this kind.”
Dean looked back towards the house, “What we gonna do ‘bout Nancy Drew? I think she’ll kind of notice if we start doing freaky deaky stuff to her dog…”
“We could tell her the truth.”
“Oh yeah ‘cause that’s about as useful as telling…” Dean looked towards the dog eyes locked, “… the son of a bitch to go back to hell.”
Sam had been about to smile at his brothers words but before he had the chance, Shane, or the demon that was possessing Shane, put his ears flat against his head as if sulking and howled. A thick black smoke followed the noise out of the mouth and formed the shape of large dog with glowing red eyes, the mist then rushed towards Dean as if running through the air and as Dean tumbled back in surprise, it vanished.
rayuk666 - June 16, 2007 01:57 PM (GMT)
Animal Possession: 101
“Dean!” Sam shouted as he watched the shadow charge into Dean and send him falling backwards. But before he could react and reach for a weapon, the shadow was gone… he just hoped that it hadn’t gone into Dean.
Dean, once again flat on his arse, stared wide eyed straight ahead as if in a daze, his words cut short by pure shock. A small whimpering brought him back to reality as he looked towards the big brave German Shepherd that had its head buried under its paws and was crying, Dean couldn’t suppress the smile that made its way across his face.
“Dean?” Sam asked hesitantly, “You okay man?”
He nodded and pulled himself up from the ground, “Yeah, considering some demonic son of a bitch just tried to run me over.”
“It didn’t… you know… it didn’t manage… did it?”
Dean raised a questioning eyebrow at his brother’s ramblings before laughing as he filled in the blank spaces, “Dude, you really think I would tell you if I was possessed?”
Sam smiled, “Even if you were in control and possessed you wouldn’t tell me…”
“Christo.” Dead laughed, “There, now you can feel all safe knowing that your big brother is still your big bro…”
Before Dean could finish what he was saying, a slightly high pitched screech hit his ears and he spun around to see Ms Towers mere feet away and stalking over towards them, “What in the name of God did you do to my dog?!?”
“We… err… we cured him.” Dean smiled his trademark lopsided grin, happy at the half truth coming out of his mouth, “He should be fine now. Back to his old cowardly Scooby Doo self.”
“You… you…” She started accusingly, her eyes wandering between the brothers and her loving dog still hiding his head beneath his huge paws, “I want you gone!”
“We’re going Ms Towers. We’re leaving right this minute.” Sam said, picking up their things and grabbing Dean’s upper arm, dragging him away.
“Yeah, don’t thank us or anything!” Dean glared back at her over his shoulder but allowed himself to be led off until they reached the back door where he shook Sam off him.
“We didn’t really do anything Dean.” Sam muttered to his brother as they passed through the house and out the front door, “The demon left of its own accord.”
“Maybe it listened to me… I told it to go back to Hell.”
“Oh, and since when did demons start listening to hunters.”
Dean broadened his grin, “Maybe he knew who I was.”
“Because the great Dean Winchester strikes fear into even the most evil hearts?”
“You’re a killjoy, you know that?”
“Yeah but at least I can still fit my head inside the Impala. You’re gonna need to leave the windows rolled down for yours.”
“Well aren’t you just a regular stand up comedian. Ha ha. Not funny.”
Within minutes they were on the road again and if his shoulders didn’t ache so much, and his arse and his back, Dean would have objected to Sam’s suggestion of them stopping at the next motel, or hotel or ‘to rent’ apartment. As it turned out, it was a run down motel just outside of town with a cheap and highly tacky fast food diner just over the road from it. Normally he wouldn’t protest to the greasy fat filled food but if he was honest, he was getting tired and bored of burgers, fries, pizza, tacos and any other fast food concoction you could name. What he’d give for a good steak or dinner at a fancy restaurant, or even a home cooked meal.
But he settled for a burger and fries as Sam ran over to fetch their food and he booked their room and parked the sweet black beast right outside the door. He could have been kind and waited outside the diner for Sam but instead he settled for unloading the car.
Sam arrived several minutes later holding a large bag and a drinks tray, he immediately saw Dean’s face drop and could hear the words clearly in his head before his brother even said them.
“What? No beer?”
“Just good old cola.”
“Coke or Pepsi?” Dean narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
“Does it matter?”
Dean shrugged and pulled a burger out the bag, unwrapping it hungrily and taking a large bite out of it and before even swallowing it, he began to speak, “Just think it’d be a change for some place to sell Dr Pepper is all.”
“Freak.” Sam muttered, pulling his own burger out now and unwrapping it much more neatly than Dean.
“What?” If Dean hadn’t become such an expert at talking with his mouth full, he would have lost at least a third of the bite he’d taken just saying that one word.
“Nothing. Look… about this demon… don’t you think it’s a little strange?” Sam said, changing the topic back to the ‘hunt’ at hand.
“Yeah… but what can we do about it?”
“We could ask for help. See if anyone knows anything about animal possessions…”
Dean opened his phone and scrolled down his list before chucking it towards Sam, “Go on then geek boy, I bet Ellen would know someone.”
Sam looked down at the phone and swallowed his bite before hitting the dial button and putting it up to his ear. After three rings the phone was answered and after a further five minutes, two of which Sam had spent in silence waiting for Ash to actually fetch Ellen, he got a name from her. Nicholas Stewart. He was a self certified expert… not that it meant much. Sam had also managed to get a number which he scrawled down on the burger wrapping using a pen Dean had just handed him.
He thanked Ellen and hung up, dialling Nicholas Stewart’s number, not even bothering with the rest of his food. Dean sat stuffing his face and watched Sam, gulping down his cola every now and then. At first Sam thought no one would answer but just as he was about to give up and hang up, the phone clicked and a low voice answered with a yawn.
“Nicholas Stewart?” Sam queried.
“Never heard of him.” The voice dodged.
“You ever heard of Ellen Harvelle or the Roadhouse?”
“Nah, don’t sound familiar.”
“Maybe it’ll sound familiar if I tell you my name’s Sam Winchester and Ellen told me you were the guy to call about animal possessions?”
“ Winchester, eh? Been hearing that name around lately. In fact, I’m pretty sure there’s some people looking for a Winchester.”
“Guess I got the wrong number, you obviously have no idea how to help. Probably just some other old lonely drunk.” Sam knew hunter’s who beat around the bush, he’d dealt with many of them over the years and always found that the best way to get their attention was to take a swing at their pride.
“Hey, hey, hey! I resent that. I am in fact quite a young drunk and am far from lonely… Name’s Nick, not Nicholas… only my parents and the church calls me Nicholas. What you want, Winchester?”
“Like I said, Ellen told me you were the guy that knew about animal possessions and I have some questions that need answering.”
Dean leant over the table slightly, closing the distance between him and his phone, hoping to catch threads of the conversation. So far he figured that this guy was just like every other self proclaimed expert and probably a big waste of time, a lay about who was using typical avoidance tactics. But Sam seemed to be dealing with him well enough, so Dean just tried his best to listen.
“Animal possessions? Yeah, I know my stuff and more besides. Cults performing rituals in order to absorb the power of an animal’s spirit, spirits possessing animals, animals being turned into demonic guardians, you name it.”
“So you know about demon’s possessing animals? Like if there are any specific demons that like to do it and how to get rid of them?”
“Very and I mean very few demons choose to possess animals… if you ask me they seem to prefer psychological torture rather than just good old brutality. But yeah, I guess there are some known to take animal forms. How to make them leave? Exorcism, simple as.”
“But what else could get them to leave?”
“Okay… enough of running in circles kid… what do you mean? You’re obviously not talking hypothetical here.”
“There was a dog – ”
“A dog?” Nick sniggered slightly, “You mean like Mr Fluffs?”
“I mean the kind that could rip you to shreds if you got it pissed off.” Sam retorted, “Anyway… it turned out to be possessed and we never had the chance to perform an exorcism, the demon just kind of chose to leave.”
“You know, hate to sound patronising… well, no I don’t… but sometimes demons do that… leave for no reason.”
“This one got pretty pissed about leaving… it ran at my brother before disappearing.”
“What? The dog just up and vanished into thin air?”
“No… the dog was still in its cage. The demon separated itself from it and charged right at Dean.”
Dean rolled his eyes and stood up, finishing off his last fry and last drop of cola. He wasn’t too keen on being talked about when he couldn’t hear the full conversation so he flopped down onto his claimed bed and closed his eyes briefly as Sam continued talking to Nicholas.
“Woah… you said it ran at him… when demon’s aren’t possessing something they don’t general run at things… they more float or zoom towards it but never run.”
“Well this one did. It kind of looked like a big black dog and it ran through the air at him. It was almost like it was still in physical form.”
“And it chose a dog?” The question was more thoughtful than mocking this time and Sam nearly found himself nodding into the phone but muttered a simple ‘yeah’ instead.
“Did you see its eyes?”
“Kind of hard to miss.”
“What colour were they?”
“Oh my God!” Nick shouted excitedly down the phone, causing Sam to pull it away briefly from his ear, “I’ve never actually seen one but I’ve read reports and they always possess dogs… it’s less trouble.”
Sam just shook his head, this guy sounded like a comic book geek obsessing over an infamous issue that had been lost and mysteriously found through time.
“Most people believe they have three heads but how the hell are they meant to balance with three heads, eh? It didn’t have three did it?”
“No… It had one dog shaped head… what are you going on about?”
“Hell hounds, Winchester. Looks like that was what you were dealing with.”
“A hell hound? But why did it leave?”
“Well, they may be evil but they’re loyal. They sometimes come up to Earth to search for their lost demon err… owner I guess. They could leave because they received a command from their owner or they were called away or they caught a trail. I can’t believe you came up against a hell hound and you didn’t even know it.”
“It’s not exactly the first we’ve come across…” Sam thought, remembering back to those invisible growls and paws clawing at the floor when they had found the crossroads, “It might not have been a hell hound exactly but… it matched the description.”
“Yeah well, if your hell hound has moved on, chances are it won’t be back so Mr Fluffs will probably be safe for now. I dunno why it would be angry though…”
So with only a little more information than before, Sam said good bye and thank you and hung up, turning to face Dean, who was fast asleep on the bed, muscles twitching slightly as if he were dreaming. As Sam continued watching Dean sleeping, it only occurred to him that Dean’s dream may have been more of a nightmare after he groaned and shifted about on the bed.
rayuk666 - June 16, 2007 01:59 PM (GMT)
Darkness. That’s how everything originally started and that would be how everything eventually ended. That’s how his dream started. He felt himself choking on the thickness of it, suffocating and drowning. And then he felt invisible hands pulling him further into it, deeper through the silent blackness that surrounded him. He tried to fight them off, panic rushing through his system as even more reached out to grab him, pushing, pulling, grabbing, prodding, scratching… trying to take him with them.
And then a shrill scream erupted from somewhere in the darkness, followed by a burst of fiery red light and everything fell away. The invisible hands were no longer touching him and the darkness was gone as if it were never there.
He was lying down, flat on his back, staring up at what he could only presume was the sky only there were no blue or grey tints, no white clouds… just red and orange and yellow and every shade of them colours, fighting their way across the sky, burning it, scorching it as they raged war against one another.
Groaning, he tried to push himself up but as he put his hands against the ground, the texture was strange and familiar but it had been awhile since he’d felt it. The sand shifted beneath his hands, it was soft and warm but at the same time, scratchy and irritating.
Slowly, he dragged himself up onto his feet and took in the barren land surrounding him. All he could see was an endless horizon of sand meeting a burning sky. Frowning, he spun slowly around and called out.
“Hello?” He shouted, his voice eerily echoing back to him though there was nothing for it to bounce back off, “Anybody there?”
The only reply was wind which blew across the desert, lifting sand as it went, swirling it in places. He watched in confusion and awe as the particles danced, landing neatly back on the ground where they belonged before another batch flew up and twisted through the air.
He stopped watching the sand the same second that he saw a flash of light from the corner of his eye and he just managed to catch white hot lightning fork its way down to the ground somewhere off in the distance. Almost immediately, thunder roared to accompany the terrifying display.
“Hello?” He tried again and this time he thought he heard a voice somewhere behind him.
When he spun around to face it, he noticed a large and old tree standing nearly a hundred feet away and frowning even more, he wondered why it had suddenly appeared and yet, without knowing the answer, he began to make his way towards it.
He’d only walked about ten feet before he thought he’d heard someone screaming his name and then felt a strong hand slapping his face.
“Dean!” Sam cried out again, desperate to wake his brother up.
At first he’d been unsure about waking him from his fitful sleep but then the tremors had began and Dean spasmed, his entire body shaking violently, even under Sam’s strong grasp. He slapped Dean’s face in desperation and called his name once more.
Dean fell deathly still but slowed blinked his eyes open, “Sammy?”
“What the hell Dean?” Sam questioned, his voice shaking slightly.
But confusion weaved its way across Dean’s face and the question went unanswered, instead Dean had one of his own, “What you doing on my bed?”
“Waking you up.” Sam explained, “Dean… it was like you were having some sort of fit… what were you dreaming about?”
Dean shook his head, “I dunno. I think I was in a desert.”
“And that’s it.” Dean pushed himself up into a sitting position and stared hard at Sam, “A fit?”
“Along those lines, yeah. You had me freaked out.” Sam ran his hand through his hair, “How you feeling?”
“I dunno, a little stiff and achy I guess but fine.”
“Maybe I should take you to the hospital.”
“Sam, I’m fine. Probably just a one off thing. Maybe it had something to do with our dog possessing demon.”
“It was a hellhound.”
“Oh right…” Dean muttered in confusion before smiling like a kid at Christmas or a ghoul at Halloween, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Told you so.”
“What? No you didn’t.” Sam rolled his eyes, “Exactly when did you tell me that?”
“In the car over here.”
“That doesn’t count…”
“Because you were joking.”
“Was not! I was serious.”
“No you weren’t.”
“You’re just mad you weren’t right about the rabies.”
Dean yawned and glanced at the clock, “Well, if you’re finished with me I’m gonna go back to sleep.”
Sam bit his lip but nodded. It was Dean who rolled his eyes now, “Sammy, one time only thing. I’m fine. It won’t happen again.”
But Sam wasn’t so sure, so he just watched Dean for almost four hours before he decided that yeah, maybe it wouldn’t happen again; maybe it was just a one time only thing. Besides, sleep was beckoning to him and he felt stupid saying no to it.
He laid his head on his pillow and looked over at Dean, watching him until sleep took its hold. Both brothers slept peacefully through the night and the majority of the next morning too.
Even after all his talk with taking a break and actually going on a road trip, especially since they had to lay low and off any kind of radar including FBI, hunters and various supernatural creatures, when Sam suggested staying in town for a week or so Dean decided that he was really itching for a proper hunt where he got to shoot something, some evil-son-of-a-bitch that really deserved shooting… several times… with several types of guns… not that he was feeling trigger happy or anxious or anything… he’d just been doing the job for so long that not hunting just felt wrong.
So he lay awake, fully dressed, on the same motel bed and stared at the same motel ceiling wondering if Sam had told him to stay put because someone was looking for him or because of that fit or whatever it had been. He was just waiting for Sammy to suggest going to the hospital ‘cause that’s what Sammy did, overreacted… after all it was probably just some muscle twinge.
But for the moment, Sam couldn’t suggest going to the hospital because he was out getting food, probably some grease from over the diner which made Dean long even more for a good steak or just something that was actually cooked and not just prepared for speed.
“God Sammy, where are you?” Dean sighed… he was so well… he was really really really bored and this motel had nothing for him to entertain himself with. No XXX channels, no vibrating bed, even the laptop was off limits because Sam was sticking to the whole ‘laying low’ thing and that meant, unless a hunt jumped into their laps, they were staying away from any potential danger until they knew what they were up against.
“Maybe we should call the Roadhouse again…” Dean muttered to himself but his musings were interrupted by a knocking from the door.
That would probably be Sam, his hands too full to turn the handle. Dean sat up slowly and moved begrudgingly towards the door, he’d just gotten himself really comfortable as well and now he had to move. He reached the door and opened it, opening his mouth too, ready to share several angry words with his younger brother. But Sam wasn’t standing at the door.
Instead a young girl, probably eleven or twelve, stood there. She was barely any taller than five foot, her long blond hair tied back and her deep brown eyes had a glazed quality to them. She looked at him as if she could see him but at the same time, she couldn’t and Dean felt shivers down his spine. This was one creepy kid.
“Hello.” She said simply.
“Hello?” He replied.
“You don’t look as old as I thought you would.”
“What?” He narrowed his eyes in confusion, the statement catching him off guard. What the hell did she mean by that? Why would she expect him to look any kind of age… he didn’t even know the kid.
“I’ve heard stories and rumours but that’s all I thought they were.”
Dean cocked his head to side and cautiously took a step back, making sure he was behind the salt line, “And who exactly do you think I am?”
She merely smiled, her eyes turning momentarily black and shrugged her shoulders mockingly, as if she knew exactly who he was. She began to walk away but turned back just long enough to say, “Oh, by the way. Found you.”
rayuk666 - June 16, 2007 02:01 PM (GMT)
When Dean got bored, he was annoying, it was a big brother thing or something along those lines, either way Sam was glad to get out of the cramped motel room and go in search of food. He would have borrowed the Impala and gone in search for better food than what was on offer at the diner over the road, but after Dean’s ‘fit’, he didn’t want to leave his brother alone for too long.
He tried not to think about it but his mind just kept wandering back to it,he kept thinking how he should take Dean to a hospital just in case it was something serious that needed fixing and would only get worse with time. Dean would kill him though… he’d think it a waste of time and if they did find something, what could they do?
He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited in line, the guy at the front making an extremely large order and paying using lots of small coins. He cursed silently but waited like a good boy, glaring only slightly as the man left the counter with his order.
Nearly fifteen minutes later he had the food in his hands and was headed back over to the motel room. He accidentally bumped into a young girl on his way and mumbled an apology but all she did was glare at him. As he approached the room, he noticed the door was open… what the hell was Dean playing at? Airing the room out or something? Had he had another fit? At this thought Sam quickened his steps and rushed into the room where all of a sudden a gun was aimed at his face.
A split second later and the gun was lowered, allowing Sam to focus on a frustrated Dean throwing things into bags and cursing under his breath, “We’re leaving.”
“Woah. Wait. What on earth happened?”
“Some demon kid just came a knocking so I thought it’d be a good time to split.”
“Some demon kid?” Sam repeated, looking back at the door and finding himself wondering if Dean referred to the kid he’d just passed.
“That’s what I said.” Dean threw a bag towards Sam, gesturing him to put it in the car.
“I don’t get it. I wasn’t even gone for half an hour and you somehow manage to get yourself into trouble.” Sam shook his head and did as he was told, taking the bag out to the car.
Dean followed him with another couple of bags and threw them unceremoniously into the back of the Impala, “I only answered the door ‘cause I thought it was you struggling with the food. Next time I’ll not bother.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just weird how she happened to turn up at out door.”
“Dean.” Sam said accusingly, eyes narrowing.
“Okay, okay. She acted like she knew who I was and when she turned to leave she said she’d found me. Happy?”
Sam paused mid throw and looked at his brother, “You think it has anything to do with why Ellen called the other day?”
“Couldn’t be. She sent them to Arizona remember?”
“I know but it’s a little strange. Even for us. Seriously Dean… you haven’t been doing anything for demons and other stuff to start seeking you out have you?”
“Other than killing a few nasty sons of bitches, which by the way you do to, no. I mean yeah, bit of name calling here and there but who holds a grudge for stuff like that?”
“You would.” Sam mumbled incoherently, giving the room a once over to check nothing had been left. When he was satisfied, he climbed into the passenger seat of the car and Dean turned the key, the Impala purring into life.
“I just wanna put as much distance between myself and that freaky little kid as soon as possible.” Dean sighed, watching the motel disappear from the rear-view mirror.
“Dean… you don’t think it could have been Meg?”
“Meg? No… no way.” He glanced at Sam briefly, “She would have done something. Surely. She’s sadistic like that. Likes to send a big red flashing light kind of message, not very subtle.”
“I guess.” Sam sunk quietly into the seat, his mind replaying the past few weeks for anything that would help. But the past few weeks had been quiet, couple of salt and burns, call from Ellen, dog possessed by a hell hound… the call from Ellen had been unexpected and weird and the whole dog thing, well that was pretty freaky but the dots just didn’t connect.
“Call the roadhouse; ask if there’s been any more news.” Dean suggested, staring straight ahead at the road.
“What about Bobby?” Sam asked, running through their options.
Dean bit his lip, “If we need him we’ll call him but the guy deserves a break from us.”
“You know who we haven’t been to visit?”
“Who?” Though Dean had an idea of who is brother was thinking about, silently praying ‘don’t say it, don’t say it.’
Damn it! He said it. “Dude, the woman hates my guts!”
“No she doesn’t.”
“Oh that’s easy for you to say, she loves you to pieces. I mean come on.”
“She might know something.”
“Like how to stop demons from tracking us.”
Dean mumbled incoherently though he did see Sam’s point. The woman knew several things; maybe just one of them included taking them off the radar, “Fine! We’ll go but the second she starts shouting at me I’ve getting in the Impala and taking off with or without you.”
Lawrence, Kansas. Home sweet home. The place of bitter memories and tragic endings. Every time Dean tried to think about it as the place he was happy and normal if only for them first few years of his life… he just couldn’t get past that bump in the road. The last time they were here proved to be even more emotionally challenging than he thought; after all he didn’t expect to see his mother’s ghost.
They pulled up outside of Missouri’s during the early morning, Sam yawned a stretched, waking from his peaceful slumber whilst Dean struggled to keep his eyes open. He’d refused to let Sam drive, he insisted that if he was going to have to deal with Missouri beating him up and bossing him about, he was at least going to get the pleasure of driving his car beforehand.
“You okay?” Sam asked, blinking the sleep from his eyes and looking over at Dean who was trying his best to hide his tired and heavy eyes.
“I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with so she can say she can’t help and then we can be on our merry way.” Dean replied, adding in a mumble, “Shoulda just called. Would have been less trouble.”
“You know, I bet she has a spare bed for you to lie down on…”
Dean raised his eyebrows and climbed out the car, “And maybe she’ll make us a full breakfast while she’s at it and wash my car and…”
“Okay, I get it.” Sam rolled his eyes and joined his brother in walking to the door.
He’d barely knocked when she opened the door, full of morning cheer and beaming at the pair of them, though Dean noticed her smile turn to frown when her eyes landed on him.
“Boy! You been up all night driving?” Her voice demanded truth and in reply Dean just shrugged, not feeling up to an interrogation, he hadn’t realised it but he really did just want to sleep.
“What happened to your manners? You lost the ability to speak or something?”
“No ma’am.” Dean gritted his teeth.
Sam watched, smiling to himself. He was amazed Dean couldn’t see it but hidden behind Missouri’s roughness was real concern, “He just wanted to get here to see you as soon as possible.”
Dean glared at Sam, tempted to kick or hit him in some warning manner but there was no way he could do it without Missouri seeing.
“Well then, you boys better get yourselves inside and you,” She nodded towards Dean, “There’s a spare bedroom upstairs, second on the right. You are going to get some sleep before you end up running that car off the road with you and your brother in it.”
They both stepped over the threshold but Dean was stunned, not knowing what to make of Missouri’s demand. He glanced at her and then at the stairs before sending Sam a questioning look.
“Now boy!” She almost shouted and feeling too weary to object, he felt his legs leading him up the stairs and towards rest.
“Right, I know you didn’t just fancy dropping by for a visit so you gonna explain what’s going on while that brother of yours gets some well needed sleep?”
rayuk666 - June 16, 2007 02:04 PM (GMT)
Somehow, whilst fighting his fatigue, Dean made it up the stairs and found his way to the bedroom. In fact he took it to be a miracle that he even made it to the bed before he completely collapsed; eyes stingy and begging to be closed. What was up with him, he never normally got this tired. Hell, he didn’t even manage to get his boots off before sleep came and took its hold on him. Darkness creeping in on him, he felt his body shiver and frowned dismissively, allowing his thoughts to drift.
It started like the other dream at first, completely empty and void of anything except darkness and silence. Then he felt a cold breeze wrap its way around him, nipping at the exposed skin on his arms but still he couldn’t see or hear. Panic coursed through his veins as he blinked several times and called out into the nothingness, praying he hadn’t gone deaf or blind. His sight didn’t return, neither did the sound of his voice and he raised his hand to his throat, taking a deep breath and massaging it, trying to choke out any sounds but nothing came.
He cursed inside his mind and closed his eyes tightly, not that he could really tell, concentrating on only his breathing, In. Out. In. Out. Deep breathes. In. Out. In. Out. That’s it. Easy. In. Out. And then he gasped as a cold and clammy hand wrapped itself around his ankle and another around his arm. His eyes shot open to stare blankly. He pulled away from the cold grips but they just held on tighter, like a Chinese finger trap, nails digging into his skin hard enough that he was sure it would start to bleed.
As Sam settled on Missouri’s couch, he listened carefully to the heavy footsteps of his brother until they completely ceased and Sam assumed he had managed to climb into bed without any incidents. He looked over towards Missouri who simply looked back at him, eyes locked on his.
“We err, we really just need to lay low for awhile.” Sam started, unsure of what to say, “I guess we were hoping you might know of some protection spells or something.”
“Protection spells? What kind of protection you on about?” She shook her head lightly and sighed, “You boys been getting into trouble I see.”
“Not intentionally.” Sam mumbled, “Trouble just seems to find us. I don’t even know what’s going on but there’s someone out there looking for Dean and I gotta get him off the radar.”
“And you think I might know how?”
“Boy, I ain’t no hoodoo priestess. Whether I can help or not depends on how powerful this thing is that’s looking for your brother.”
“We don’t know. We don’t know who or what it is, except for the fact that they somehow found him. Some demon possessed girl or something showed up at the motel room and after that we just took off and came here.”
Missouri rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak but the words caught in her throat, a strange look passing over her face.
“Missouri? You okay?” Sam asked, reaching over to place a hand on her shoulder.
Missouri blinked and her gaze shifted between the open doorway leading to stairs and Sam, “I’m fine. It’s a strange feeling, there’s a voice but I can’t quite hear it… it sounds so far away.”
Sam felt himself stiffen, “Who is it?”
“I don’t know.” Missouri replied. She closed her eyes and tried to block everything else out, focusing on the voice.
Another hand joined the cold ones, this one burning him like fire, gripping just as tightly, pulling at him. He had to get free of these hands, they were pulling him even further into the abyss and he didn’t want to go. He fell to his knees, unaware he’d even been standing in the first place and the hands let go to be replaced by a fiery pain shooting through his system and whether it was him or someone else, he didn’t know, but a blood curdling scream echoed through the darkness shattering it.
He was still kneeling only now all his senses had reawakened. He looked around and took a deep breath, he was back in the desert, that place full of endless sands and oranges and red warring across the sky like fire and lava. His eyes welcomed the light and surroundings and he was happy that they still worked. Taking another deep breath, he realised he could hear again as well. He heard the warm breeze whistling past him, feeling it caress his skin as it went, once again causing sand particles to dance and twist in the air.
So he could hear and see and he could feel. He could also taste and smell; there was a coppery metallic taste in his mouth that was familiar but he couldn’t quite place it and he was sure that he could smell smoke though after another quick glance at his surroundings, he could see nothing that could cause the smell. The only thing he could see was that large old tree off in the distance in front of him. It was closer than the last time and if possible, more imposing.
Putting his hands against the warm and soft sand, he pushed himself up and to make his way towards the tree, just like he had done the last time. Watching it with curiosity, wondering why he was so drawn to it.
He felt the urge to call out to it, let it know that he was there and that he was coming towards it but he fought against it, thinking how weird that would be…talking to a tree.
He drew closer, probably only fifty feet away from it now. A wisp of warm air flew past him, whispering in his ear as it did.
“See.” It whispered and he frowned, telling himself he must have imagined it.
“'See?'” She whispered, opening her eyes and looking at Sam, “That mean anything to you?”
“No, why would it?” Sam questioned, raising himself from his seated position, a spark of unexplained worry running through him as he glanced towards the door, “I should check on Dean.”
“He’ll be sleeping honey.” Missouri’s brow furrowed.
“I know but…”
“But something happened the other day to make you worry like this?” Missouri raised from her position now, taking a step towards Sam.
“He had a fit. He was sleeping and he had a fit but he just said it was nothing, that it was a one time thing.” Sam explained but before he was finished he was already out the room and taking the stairs two at a time, praying he was wrong and that Dean would just be laid snoring his blissfully ignorant head off.
“Second on the right.” He muttered, remembering what Missouri had told Dean merely half an hour ago.
He grasped the door handle, listening to Missouri catching up to him, and he swung the door open, still wishing and praying to be wrong. But why couldn’t he ever be wrong when he really wanted to be, when he really needed to be?
In a position that suggested he was about to roll and fall off the bed any second, Dean lay strewn across the twisted sheets, muscles spasming and twitching uncontrollably and even slightly violently. His chest was heaving, breathing obviously getting increasingly difficult for him and face grimacing against what Sam could only guess was pain.
“Dean!” He shouted, pushing himself forward and into the room, landing at Dean’s side. He climbed onto the bed and pulled Dean’s head and shoulder onto his lap, keeping his head in a secure position that he hoped was right for fits and seizures but then again, he hadn’t had too much experience with stuff like this. Give him cuts and broken ribs any day, he knew exactly how to treat them but this?
“Dean, come on man.” Sam begged, trying his best to hold Dean still and only catching Missouri entering the room from the corner of his eye, “Wake up, please. You’re scaring the hell out of me here.”
Missouri felt herself gasp; she hadn’t expected this to happen if she told the boy to get some sleep. She moved towards him and knelt at the brothers’ side; she reached out to place her hands on Dean’s forehead but immediately pulled back as if she’d been scorched.
And then Dean’s eyes shot open.
“Sam?” Dean questioned, hazel eyes staring up in confusion He blinked and turned his head to the side, brow furrowing as he looked at Missouri. What the hell had happened? Why the hell was his head in his brother’s lap? “What the hell Sammy?”
“One off thing?” Sam eyes were hard as he stared into Dean’s, fear and worry showing through the anger, “One time only, eh? Dean?”
Dean shook his head, “What happened?”
“Dean, you had another freaking fit! I think you should be the one telling us what happened.”
“Nothing happened. I just had a dream, nothing wrong with dreaming.”
“And what did you dream about? The desert again?” Sam pressed.
Dean pulled himself up off Sam’s lap, immediately regretting the quick movement, eye’s losing focus as he became momentarily disoriented, “Yeah, the desert. Sam, I’m fine. Look at me, I’m fine.”
“Boy, you ain’t fine.” Missouri spoke, “I don’t know what happened but you definitely ain’t fine.”
“Dean, please. Can we please go to the hospital now?” Sam closed his eyes, trying to force down the need to get on his knees and beg.
Dean immediately jumped off the bed and back away from the pair of them, “No! No hospitals. It’ll just be my luck that the place’ll be crawling with cops. We can’t risk it.”
“You’ve had two fits Dean, I think we can afford to risk it if it means saving your life!”
Missouri sighed and shook her head, “I don’t think it’ll do much good. You could try but I don’t think they could help.”
Sam’s mouth fell agape as he tuned to stare at the woman still kneeling on the floor, her eyes looking down at the carpet, “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean there’s nothing natural about what happened. And before you ask what exactly did happen I already told you, I don’t know. All I know is there was nothing natural about it. There’s something else in play here and I think you boys are better off focusing on that.”
rayuk666 - June 16, 2007 02:05 PM (GMT)
Dean felt his eyes lose focus momentarily as a wave of dizziness came over him. The dizziness was more due to shock from Missouri’s words than an actual feeling of being unwell. Hoping that neither Sam nor Missouri noticed his unsteady footsteps and shaking hands, he sat himself back on the edge of the bed and stared at the carpet.
The silence that seemed to have fallen was broken by a particularly heavy sigh from Missouri as she pulled herself up from the floor and moved towards the door, looking back with a face full of concern only to say, “I’m gonna make some tea and then we’ll talk about that dream of yours.”
Once she’d disappeared Dean looked over at Sam with a half smile on his face, the tension far too thick for his liking, “Maybe we should check her for possession. Put some holy water in her tea or something.”
“Yeah, God forbid the woman actually cares about your welfare.” Sam rolled his eyes and stood up, watching Dean carefully. What was going on here? Sure their lives were never simple but were they normally this complicated? Dean suffering from weird dreams and seizures whilst having someone or something on his tail?
Dean shook his head gently and followed his brother in standing up, shoving his hands into his pockets praying that they would stop shaking, “I’m fine. Honestly.”
Sam looked at Dean sceptically however and led the way out the room, “I can’t even leave you alone for half an hour without you getting into trouble. Demon kids, desert dreams and fits. But if you insist you’re fine then I bet Missouri has a few odd jobs she needs doing.”
“Dude, that’s just cruel. Pick on the guy who may or may not have something supernaturally wrong with him.”
“Oh, so you’ll play on it if it means getting the sympathy vote?” Sam joked.
“No, I’ll play on it if it means I’m not the one cleaning up someone else’s mess.” Dean replied, remembering the last time they were in Lawrence.
“And you weren’t even the slightest to blame for that mess?” Missouri asked as the walked into the living room while she placed the tea on the table, “That kitchen was in pretty bad shape.”
Dean grumbled slightly and Sam was almost positive he heard ‘not my fault’ mixed in. The brothers sat down opposite Missouri as she poured them some tea and granted, Dean would probably have preferred a nice black coffee but hey, tea would be fine after all it was probably some herbal remedy meant to ‘help’ with whatever was happening to him.
“So, these dreams.” Missouri prodded.
Dean shrugged, “I dunno, they’re dreams.”
Sam rolled his eyes, “The two times you’ve had a seizure, you’ve also had these dreams.”
“They’re just weird but they’re allowed to be, they’re dreams. Do I really have to talk about them?”
The silent glares from Sam and Missouri told him that yes, he really did have to.
He took a deep breath and sighed, “Well, I guess the desert doesn’t come into it at first. It’s just black and empty and there are hands… I think they try to take me some place I don’t want to go… but then there’s this kind of scream and everything changes to the desert. It’s a desert, you know what a desert looks like. Completely empty except for this tree and I start walking towards the tree and then… then I get woken up by this oaf.”
“And that’s it?” Missouri asked, eyes never leaving Dean, her tea on the table sat forgotten.
“Yeah… that’s it.”
“What?” Dean narrowed his eyes as the woman, “Why would there be voices?”
“When you where sleeping I heard a voice. I could only catch one word but the word was ‘see’.”
Dean froze, surely it was a coincidence. He wasn’t even sure if he heard the word, it was just the wind in his dream, right? “Okay…”
Missouri looked thoughtful for a moment before standing up, “I think that tree holds the answer… though I have no idea what the question is. You need to get to the tree.”
“How’s he supposed to do that?” Sam asked, slightly more defensively then he meant to.
“I know someone who is a dream guide. Don’t particularly like her but she’s the best I know of and she should be able to help you towards the tree without any ‘incidents’. I’ll call her and ask her to swing by.”
Missouri left the room and within minutes Sam and Dean could hear her mumbling coming through the thin walls and open door. Dean lifted his cup and stared at the contents, he could feel Sam’s eyes on him but he refused to look up from the liquid. He swirled it and just stared, mesmerised by the shallow reflections that smoothed back into place once the swirling stopped.
“She said she’ll be over in a couple of hours.” Missouri spoke from the doorway, breaking the spell that the tea held over Dean.
“Only a couple of hours?” Sam questioned, “She lives near by?”
“That woman could make it to England in two seconds flat if it meant showing off her abilities. But yes, she lives close by. I told her I had a young gentleman in need of her service so she’ll probably be sprucing herself up.”
Dean shifted uncomfortably at Missouri’s implication, not normally one to shy away from flirting but if this woman was going to guide him through his dream then it was like letting her take a look into his mind and well… no one was allowed in there.
“You don’t have to do it.” Missouri sighed sympathetically, retaking her seat in front of the boys, “I just have a feeling that this way you’ll at least be prepared for whatever’s coming.”
“And what is coming?” Dean asked, raising his head.
“Sam told me there have been a few ‘people’ looking for you and I think the dream could have something to do with it. The timing especially… you know there’s no such things as coincidences.”
“The hunter becomes the hunted.” Dean muttered.
They spent most of the three hours, which it took for Ashlyn the dream guide to arrive, sipping on the tea as it grew increasingly colder. Dean had given up on his shortly after Missouri had rejoined them, settling for nibbling on a few snacks that Missouri had added to the tea tray.
Missouri looked at him solemnly and put her cup back down on the tray, “In my whole time of knowing you Dean Winchester, I don’t remember you ever looking so lost in thought as you are now.”
Both brothers smiled at this comment and Sam tried hard to cover up the small laugh of his with a cough, “It’s rare he even thinks at all.”
“Hey!” Dean looked at Sam in protest, “I think.”
“About girls and guns… they don’t count.” Sam teased.
Though before Dean had a chance to reply, a gentle knock echoed gently to their ears and Missouri stood up, making her way to the front door.
“Ashlyn,” She welcomed the visitor in, “Come on through, we were just having tea.”
“For three hours?” Ashlyn laughed and walked into the living room just slightly ahead of Missouri.
She was a tall 5’10” and extremely slender, she had a mischievous grin that could rival any of Dean’s and her deep blue eyes seemed to be constantly exploring, their main targets were the two young men in front of her. At least ten years Dean’s senior, she had long golden hair that was highlighted with soft greys showing life had not gone easy on her. Dean had to appreciate that in her prime she would have been a real looker and the way she entered the room suggested that she’d lost none of the confidence that came with such great looks.
“So which one of these gorgeous boys is my dream guy?”
Without a single ounce of hesitation but plenty of amusement, Sam immediately patted Dean on the back, “Dean here is the one with the weird dreams.”
“Dean,” She smiled, tasting his name and looking him up and down, “Shall we get started?”
Missouri coughed gently, making her presence known, “Sam, Dean… this is Ashlyn. She specialises in dreams. Ashlyn, this is Sam and Dean.”
Ashlyn bowed her head in acknowledgement to the introduction but clapped her hands together straight after, attention back on Dean, “Missouri, surely we can make the boy comfortable… you’ve got a spare bed haven’t you.”
“Why?” Dean asked, a little apprehension showing in his voice. What was it about this woman that made him so uncomfortable?
“You’ve got to sleep to dream. You look like the type who has slept in a few rough positions so you really telling me you’d rather fall asleep where you are or in a nice comfortable bed?”
“I don’t really wanna sleep at all.” Dean muttered, “Can’t I just tell you my dream and then you interpret it or whatever?”
“That’s not how it works. Sure, normal dreams… but Missouri tells me yours may have a deeper meaning.” Ashlyn wiggled her eyebrows teasingly and turned to Missouri, “So – lead the way and we’ll get this done quickly so then we can maybe have some fun.”
Missouri turned and rolled her eyes, if it meant helping the Winchesters then she’d put up with this woman for one afternoon but that was it. No more. She led the way up the stairs and back into the room where Dean had fallen onto the bed just a few hours ago.
Missouri straightened the covers and moved her arms in a way that suggested to Dean that he lie down and she watched as he sat down on the bed and looked at them all, silently wishing he didn’t have an audience if he was going to have to do this. He dragged his legs up and rested his head against the pillow.
“When this is all over Sammy, it’s your turn.” Dean threatened.
“We already know what’s up with my dreams; it’s yours that are the problem.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my dreams.” He protested, flinching slightly as Ashlyn knelt down next to him and placed a hand of his forehead.
“Just relax and close your eyes Dean, count back out loud from ten, imagine each numbers in your mind as you say it.” She told him, her voice softer than before, more professional.
Dean rolled his eyes one last time before closing them, “Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six.” When was he supposed to be feeling tired? “Five. Four. Three.” Okay, yeah, he felt a little light-headed and floaty now. “Two. O-“
Dean felt a cold hand wrap itself around his neck; it was choking him, stopping him from finishing the countdown. His eyes shot open as he tried to fight against the grip but he could see nothing. Had it actually worked? Was he in his dream?
rayuk666 - June 16, 2007 02:08 PM (GMT)
Conversations with Trees
Sam sat himself at the end of the bed, watching in worry. Dean slowly counted down out loud and Sam listened, counting down with him in his mind.
“Ten.” Nine. “Eight.” Seven. “Six.” Five. “Four.” Three. “Two. O- ” Before Dean managed to finish the last number, a loud gasp escaped his mouth and a shudder shot violently through his body before he fell completely silent and still.
“Dean!” Sam called, finding himself crawling onto the bed to better examine his brother. He looked up at Ashlyn, her head hanging down and eyes moving rapidly beneath their lids, her hand was still on Dean’s forehead.
“They’re in the dream.” Missouri spoke gently, trying to her best to stay calm as well as keeping Sam calm. It didn’t usually happen like that. They normally made it to one; some even made it to zero and then that whole violent shudder… that had never happened before. It was almost as if something had been waiting to drag him under.
Sam watched Missouri, a silent pleading in his eyes as he wanted to believe her words. His attention was drawn back to Dean as his breathing hitched; it was almost as if he’d hiccupped. “Dean… just make sure you wake back up…”
His hands wrapped around the wrists of the cold invisible hands that grasped had his neck. How could breathing be so damn hard in a dream? Nails dug into his neck and when he finally pulled the invisible force away it scratched him deeply, taking up a layer of skin.
“Damn it!” He cursed… though was unsurprised when he didn’t hear his voice come back to him. Where the hell was that damn dream guide anyway? Wasn’t she supposed to be helping him?
“Ashlyn!” He called out, hoping that even though he couldn’t hear… maybe she could, maybe she could see as well or maybe she was as blind and deaf as he was.
He took an unsteady step forward, not knowing where it would take him. As he took another step, something slashed through the shirt on his back, cutting deep enough to get through to the skin. It had felt like claws and he swore again, spinning around in the hope of stopping another attack.
“Dean…” Someone whispered his name off in the distance and he looked left to see the darkness lifting slightly as a form walked towards him.
“Took your time.” Dean scolded… and he actually heard himself say it.
Ashlyn looked at him with a puzzled expression on her face, “This is your dream?”
“Not all of it.” Dean looked around into the darkness surrounding them, he thought he saw shadows flicker and flee from the new found dim light. He also thought he caught the reflection of several sets of eyes but on a double take there was nothing there, “But this is how it starts.”
Dean felt his body run cold as another shadow whipped by him, he groaned slightly as the thing touched the new wound on his back and then watched as the shadow made its way back into the darkness only to fade away as a scream echoed through the air.
Sam held Dean’s hand tightly, he knew Dean would later mock him for it but Sam needed the comforting touch. “Come on Dean, you’re doing fine.”
Dean shifted on the bed and moaned, his back arching slightly and face grimacing. Sam bit his lip and spared Ashlyn a fleeting glance. He wanted to throw her off his brother and wake Dean up… after all, what if this thing only led to more pain for Dean.
“He’s strong.” Missouri said in the background and Sam nodded in agreement, “I know he’ll make it through.”
Sam let out a breath as Dean’s hand gripped his even tighter than he had been gripping it. Dean’s breathing quickened his head moved from side to side on the pillow, as if trying to pull away from Ashlyn’s hand. His body convulsed just once and Sam shot a look towards Missouri, begging to be told if this should be happening.
A mixture of cold and warm air hit him at once, refreshing and warming him. He was relieved to be out of the darkness once again and away from whatever lingered in it. One quick scan of the area told him he was in the desert again, and judging by the distance of the tree, this was exactly how he had left it. Colours raging war, whispering winds trying to grab his attention and soft and burning sand spiralling up from the ground every so often. It was beginning to feel almost like a constant that he could rely on… it was peaceful.
But there was one little feature that he didn’t quite like.
“What on earth is this place?” Ashlyn questioned, kneeling down and sifting sand through her fingers before gazing up at the sky. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t like her… he just couldn’t help but feel that she was intruding on his personal peace.
“Aren’t you supposed to be telling me what it is?” Dean replied, his focus landing on the tree in the distance.
“Okay…in most dreams a desert symbolises a loss of some kind or trouble and bad luck.” She explained, “It also can mean isolation, loneliness…but Missouri told me your dream wasn’t a normal dream so... She told me to guide you towards a tree.”
“I don’t really need a guide to get to the tree.” Dean muttered, taking a few step forwards towards his destination, “I mean it’s right there… the trouble is that I keep getting woken up before I reach it.”
“Well it’s my job to get your mind and body there safely.” She retorted, taking a couple of long strides to catch up with, “Missouri also told me how your body is reacting to the dream.”
Dean snorted, he felt just fine after each dream, it was just the others over reacting.
It was another minute before anything else happened as Missouri and Sam watched the two dreamers. Dean was completely still again, breathing returning to normal but that didn’t stop Sam from worrying. He felt Missouri lay her hand on his shoulder and squeezed in gently in a comforting manner. Sam turned to look at her; her face wore a look that told him she was as worried as he was.
“There isn’t really any reason to worry is there?” Sam asked, almost afraid of the answer.
“No.” Missouri lied. Sam knew she lied but he needed to hear her say it all the same.
Dean’s grip on his hand tightened once more causing Sam to turn back and watch his brother. It was starting again. Limbs shaking uncontrollably and muscles contracting over and over again, another seizure took hold of Dean and Sam let go of his brother’s hand and focused on holding his brother still instead. He shot Missouri a desperate look and she nodded in agreement to his unsaid request.
A warm breeze wrapped itself around the two wanderers as they neared the tree. Dean stared at it as if it were hypnotising him, he watched it’s branches sway and heard it’s leaves rustle. One stray leaf, a startling green, broke away from it’s place and gently floated down, twirling in the breeze, rising and falling some more. The green turned a fiery red and then a glowing orange before landing in Dean’s outstretched hand as a golden yellow.
The wind whispered in his ear, like chorus of voices.
“The beginning of evil.”
THE END OF GOOD.
“Free the soul.”
He watched as the leaf in his hand turned to brown as crumpled up on itself, turning to dust that spiralled away on the breeze. A deafening crack of thunder broke through the voices and Dean looked up and out towards the distance. A storm was coming. He saw a flash of lightening and almost simultaneously he heard another crack of thunder.
“Ashlyn, what the hell is this?” He asked, turning to look at her.
Her eyes were wide, staring at him in disbelief… maybe even fear. He took a step towards her and she took a step back.
Missouri took a deep breath and took a firm hold on Ashlyn, ready to pull her hand away from Dean. She felt a tingle rush through her system when she did and then a feeling like thick black tar and her vision wavered momentarily. She couldn’t stop the gasp escaping her throat but she pulled Ashlyn’s hand away from Dean. Ashlyn’s limp form landed in Missouri’s arms and Missouri sat herself on the floor, unable to stand anymore. She looked up towards Sam.
Sam hand moved back into the position he’d adopted earlier, with Dean’s head and shoulders on his lap. He wrapped his arms around his big brother and prayed for Dean to wake up, prayed for the convulsions to stop. “Come on Dean, please.”
He shot Missouri a hopeless glance and then his gaze shifted to watch as Ashlyn’s eyes fluttered open and she coughed, bringing her hand up to her mouth to cover it. When she pulled her hand away it was decorated in blood and Sam frowned when he saw the fear in her eyes. She struggled to get away from Missouri but Missouri refused to let her, not until she knew she was alright.
A small intake of breath brought his attention back to Dean, whose eyes shot open to stare at Sam. A trickle of blood ran down from his nose and Sam wiped it away with his hand, a lump forming in his throat. He should have never let Dean go through with this.
“How you feeling?” Sam asked lightly.
“M’fine.” Dean croaked. He had a pounding headache that caused his eyes to ache, his throat felt dry and itchy and he could taste a familiar coppery taste that was rarely a good sign, “M’fine Sammy.”
He rolled his head to look at Ashlyn who had calmed down slightly, when their eyes locked however she struggled again, this time breaking from Missouri’s grasp. She rushed out of the room and after a fleeting glance at the boys, Missouri followed her.
“Ashlyn!” The brothers heard her shout, “Ashlyn, what do you think you’re doing?”
“Getting out of here and away from him… You’d do well to do the same.” There was pause before she spoke again, “You felt it didn’t you? You know exactly what I’m on about, don’t you? And you know what this means?”
“No… I don’t know what this means and neither do you. I never should have called you… I never should have let you near that poor boy.”
“Poor boy? He’s no boy! You know what he is! Do yourself a favour and get rid of him before he brings evil knocking at your door.” Then she added darkly, “Hell, do us all a favour and get rid of him permanently.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. You don’t know him like I do.”
“I don’t need to know him. All I need to know is that the stories are true and that means if you help him, you’re damned and there ain’t no helping you.”
“Just get out. You want to go so badly. Get out.”
The boys looked at each other, both listening hard to the conversation, or more appropriately – argument, that was going on downstairs.
“He’s evil. Remember that. A leopard can’t change its spots and neither can he.” And with that a loud bang, which sounded like the front door being thrown shut, the conversation was ended.
A few moments later and Missouri had returned back up the stairs and was leaning against the doorframe of the room, her eyes locked on the two brothers. Dean still in Sam’s lap and Sam keeping him forced there until he knew he was well enough to move. She smiled sadly at the two.
“Why must the fates be so cruel to the pair of you?”
rayuk666 - June 16, 2007 02:10 PM (GMT)
Please Allow Me To Introduce Myself…
“Missouri?” Sam ventured, finally letting up on his brother just enough for Dean to pull himself into a seated position.
“I’ll make us something proper to eat. You boys get cleaned up, okay? There’s a shower in the bathroom and some clean towels in the closet.” She sighed and turned away, “I want you downstairs in an hour.”
Silence fell as she left the room and both brothers continued to stare at the spot she’d been standing in. After a few moments Sam titled his head to look at Dean, whose gaze was focused on the floor in front of him. He opened his mouth to speak but saw Dean tense. What could he say? He had no idea what was going on so how was he supposed to comfort Dean? Was he supposed to say ‘it’s alright’ even though he knew it wasn’t?
He closed his eyes and braced himself, speaking gently, treading carefully, “Dean…”
“Don’t Sam.” Was all Dean said before pulling himself up from the bed. He swayed for a mere second but righted himself before Sam even had he chance to react.
“We don’t know what she meant.” Sam whispered.
Dean ignored Sam, acted like he hadn’t heard him, “I think I’m gonna take a shower.”
And he really felt like he needed one. He felt filthy… he felt contaminated. Ashlyn had seen something inside his dream and whatever it was… it was bad… he knew it was bad. And it was inside him…
“I’ll grab a bag from the car…” Sam sighed, knowing that though there was nothing he could say, he could at least get some clean clothes out for his brother.
Sam watched as his brother left the room, listening to Dean opening what sounded like two doors before finding the bathroom and closing the door behind him with a loud click. Sam sighed and stood up, peering down the hall at the closed bathroom door where he heard mild shuffling as he exited the room and wandered back down the stairs.
He paused when he reached the front door, gazing back up the stairs. He was surprised when Missouri gently coughed and he turned to look at her, “What’s going on here Missouri?”
“You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” She sighed, “Don’t mean I won’t try. You have to promise to keep your eye on him Sam – there’s gonna be a hell of a lot of trouble. This is some seriously ferocious fire we’re playing with now.”
“Can’t we just…” Sam started but Missouri shook her head.
“No simple way out of this.” She glanced up the stairs, “Now go get your bags. There’s a fold up bed in the attic, you can bring it down and set it up in the spare room with the other bed.”
Sam nodded and reached for the front door, fingering the Impala keys that he’d taken from Dean earlier.
He leaned back against the bathroom door once he’d closed it, taking one long deep breath before pushing himself away and moving towards the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and rimmed red from lack of proper sleep and his skin was paler that a woman in white’s dress. He had a gentle smear of browning blood just beneath his nose and he snorted in disgust, wiping the flaky dried on bits away to leave a red tint on his skin.
With aching muscles, he pulled his shirt up and over his head, discarding it like the restricting piece of cloth that it was. He stared at himself in the mirror once more and grimaced as he thought he saw the flicker of bruises littering his skin. He reached up to his neck, lifting it up to see it better, just like with the bruises, he thought he saw the flicker of scratch marks but when his hand gingerly touched the sore skin, they just vanished.
“I’m losing my mind… seeing things.” Dean sighed, steadying himself against the sink basin.
He took one more deep breath then turned and reached over to turn the shower on, waiting until a steady stream of steaming water shot out, covers his arms in droplets of warmth. He nodded in approval and gently unfastened the buttons on his jeans, dropping them to the floor and kicking them over to his shirt. He tugged gently at his watch and tossed it onto the pile before tugging his boxers down and throwing them on top.
He hissed softly as the water washed over his skin, trying to cleanse him of something that wasn’t even on the outside but the hiss turned to a hum as he tried to forget about the pain flowing through him. What he really needed was a good night sleep without fits and without being rudely awakened.
“Please allow me to introduce myself…” He sang gently, rolling his head under the water, directing it down his back, “I’m a man of wealth and taste.”
He made it all the way to the third chorus, singing slightly louder with forgotten bliss, “Pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my name, oh yeah…”, before he heard a gentle rapping at the door and heard Sam telling him to leave some hot water for him. Dean shot back a muffled reply and turned the shower off, finishing the lines he was singing, “…but what’s puzzling you - is the nature of my game.”, and grabbing a towel from the closet near the door. He dried himself down quickly before wrapping it around his waist. He grabbed a second towel and was on rubbing his hair as he exited the bathroom, feeling more relaxed then when he had first gone in.
“All yours.” He muttered, sliding back into the spare room where Sam was pulling some clean clothes out from a bag.
“You feeling better?” Sam asked, looking up and glad to see the colour slowly finding it’s way back to his brother’s skin.
Dean nodded and pulled on a pair of boxers, “I’m fine Sammy.”
Sam nodded too, knowing that, even though that was the answer Dean always gave, this time it was at least partly genuine but that didn’t stop the worry, “I’m gonna jump in the shower – you did leave some hot water right?”
“Yeah…” Dean replied, pulling a shirt on and laid down on the bed, resting his eyes for just a minute.
It wasn’t long before Sam was locking the bathroom door behind himself and was taking in the scene in front of him. His brother had barely even been in the shower and yet both the mirror and window were fogged up. Sam sighed and shook his head, eyes landing on the pile of clothes Dean had left on the floor.
“First things first.” He muttered, really wishing he didn’t have to touch his brother’s boxers…
He pocketed Dean’s watch, making a mental note to hand it back to his brother and he folded the jeans neatly. Did Dean actually not know how to clean up after himself or did he just delight in letting Sam do it? Sam took a deep breath, trying to remind himself that something was up with Dean and it wasn’t his fault… but that didn’t explain all the others times.
He reached down for the item of clothing; Dean’s scruffy crumpled up shirt. He lifted it up and looked at in disgust… but his look of disgust changed to a frown and then to worry. He turned the shirt over in his hands and wondered how the hell he’d missed it before… There were four steady parallel red lines down the back… Blood. Dean had been bleeding. Sam held the shirt closer, his fingers tracing the lines… judging by the distance between each line, the bleeding was due to a claw mark. But how the hell had Dean managed to get a claw mark and why the hell had Sam not noticed anything before?
“Dean…” He whispered and without really thinking, his legs were moving back towards the bedroom, shirt held loosely at his side.
“That was quick.” Dean said, without even opening his eyes.
“What’s this?” Sam demanded, ignoring Dean’s remark.
Dean opened one eye and looked at the shirt Sam was waving about in front of him, “That’s my shirt Sammy boy – doesn’t take a genius to work that one out.”
Sam growled… he actually growled. He opened the shirt up and turned it over, showing Dean the four lines on the back of it, “I’m talking about this.”
“What the hell?” Dean pulled himself up from his nice comfortable position, both eyes wide open and alert, staring and the blood stained shirt, “What did you do to my shirt Sam?”
“Me? I did nothing. I was cleaning up your mess and I found it like this.” Sam continued staring at Dean and when Dean frowned in reply he hissed out a low breath and moved closer to the bed, “Turn around and lift up your shirt.”
Dean bared his teeth but did as Sam asked, turning so his back was to Sam and lifting his shirt just enough to show perfectly clean and perfectly intact skin.
“What the…?” Sam questioned, reaching out and touching Dean’s back, trying his best to find the scars that should be there.
“You done perving?” Dean asked, though he didn’t wait for a reply before he pulled his shirt back down and span round to face Sam, eyes glaring.
“Dean… this is pretty flesh blood. Probably an hour old at the most… so how the hell did it get on your shirt… you’re not even bleeding.”
Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed his shirt of Sam, staring at the marks. A lump formed in his throat and he tried his best to swallow it. It couldn’t be possible right? It had just been a dream… dreams couldn’t actually physically harm you. You don’t fall over and get a bloody knee in a dream and then wake up with one, you don’t fall out of a tree and break your arm and wake up screaming because your arm actually need a pot now and you don’t get clawed in the back by some shadow thing and wake up bleeding. Things like that just weren’t normal… weren’t right.
“Sam… I…” Dean started, “In the dream I…”
And that was all Sam needed to know. This recurring dream of Deans had to go… and it seemed the only way they could put an end to it was to figure it out. Good thing a certain psychic busying herself about downstairs knew more than she was letting on – the only thing now was to convince her to tell them.
A/N: And more to come soon :)
s_baum - June 22, 2007 02:58 AM (GMT)
Super good! cant wait for the update!
rayuk666 - June 23, 2007 12:37 AM (GMT)
Oh wow! A reply! Lol - Thanks s_baum! I wasn't sure whether to keep posting this story 'cause ten chaps can be kinda much for people to read at once. Anyway - I have the next two chapters written so I'll post them now!
Lost and Found
Missouri turned away and walked back through to the kitchen as she heard the front door close. When she reached the kitchen she found a pot and filled it with cold water, lighting the stove and placing it on top of the ring. She stared at it for a moment, watching the flames flicker around the bottom.
“How am I supposed to tell you what you are?” She whispered to no one in particular, “You wouldn’t believe me. I don’t believe me.”
She took in a deep breath and coughed, she could still feel that thick black tar. It was slowly spreading through the air and she was sure that its strength was growing; she knew exactly what it was. It was His essence. She never should have called Ashlyn, never should have encouraged that poor boy to go towards the tree. She felt a wave of guilt, along with a wave of nausea. It was her fault that whatever barriers had been keeping Him trapped and subdued were now crumbling, at least that’s how she felt.
“Oh you poor boys.” She sighed, hearing the front door open and shut as Sam returned to the house, “What are we going to do?”
As she heard Sam climbing up the stairs, she felt a rush of black electric rush through her system, so strong that she had to grab hold of the worktop to steady herself, the tar feeling filling her lungs momentarily, choking her. It wasn’t until she heard the boys’ voices from upstairs that the moment passed and she found she was able to breathe again.
She took the pot off the stove before pulling a chair out from the table where she sat shakily down on it, taking a moment or two to gather herself. That was when she heard the first whine; a gentle whining and a scraping. She narrowed her eyes and looked at the back door. After a minute or so of these noises, the scraping stopped and whining turned to barking; loud incessant barking.
Standing up and moving over the window she looked out and saw a black Labrador sitting a few feet from the back door, barking and barking and barking.
“Hey!” She called, “What you doing?”
The dog looked at her through the window with longing and lost puppy eyes, begging for her to open the door. She frowned and though reluctant, she opened the back door and beckoned the dog towards her.
“What you doing here honey?” She asked, kneeling down, “You lost?”
The Lab stopped barking and rushed past her into the house, she reached out to grab it but it growled threateningly in warning, baring it’s teeth. She fell backwards and away from it, heart hammering and mind cussing as she wished she’d never opened that door.
“Dean… these dreams are dangerous. They’re hurting you somehow and yet you don’t have any marks… that’s just wrong.”
“I know.” Dean admitted, wishing he could see his back. He remembered the flickering of bruises and sore marks that he saw in the bathroom mirror.
“Get dressed. We need Miss…” But Sam paused and cocked his head to the side, hearing the distinct noise of a dog barking, “What the hell is that?”
“Probably just some neighbours dog.”
“No… it sounds like it’s in Missouri’s garden.” Sam frowned and climbed over the bed to look out the window to the back garden, trying his best to see down into the garden. He could just make out the back end of a black Lab.
He watched as the dog stopped barking and suddenly rushed at the door and when the dog didn’t reappear, he realised that Missouri must have opened the door.
“Missouri doesn’t have a dog does she?” He asked.
Dean shrugged and pulled on his jeans, “We barely know the woman; she could have a dog, a gerbil and a freaking goldfish for all we know.”
“I think we would have noticed if she had a dog.” Sam replied, turning to look at Dean.
His eyes widened as he caught sight of the large black Lab bounding through the bedroom door and straight at Dean, knocking him down to the ground.
Dean had just managed to fasten the button to his jeans when the dog sent him down. He looked up to see the heavy dog resting it’s paws on his shoulders, one of those big dog grins on it’s face and before he could stop it - it attacked.
Wet slimy slobber all over his face as it began licking him to death with its large doggy tongue. He heard Missouri gasp from the doorway.
“It… It came at me. I tried to reach out and grab it but I thought it was gonna bite me. I thought it would rip me to shreds.” She breathed out.
Sam watched in a mixture of confusion as Dean pushed against the dog and tried to get up but the dog just kept on licking.
“Gerroff me!” Dean growled and pushed once more before the Lab obeyed and climbed off him, allowing him to stand.
Sam saw as the dog stared expectantly at Dean, the way it titled its head, the way its eyes were locked on Dean… waiting for the next command… it was so familiar. It was so much like the…
Dean stared down at the dog and wiped the slobber off his face before breaking out into a grin and laughing at the big mutt in front of him, kneeling down and stroking its head. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sam tense and take a step backward.
“Dean… you know what that is don’t you?” Sam asked, sparing Missouri a look who watched the boys and the dog curiously.
“It’s a dog.” Dean answered, looking up but when his eyes met Sam’s, he suddenly understood what Sam was on about, “No way. Hell no. That’s impossible. Why the hell would it be here? In this dog?”
“Oh no.” Missouri let out a breath, “Oh God… no. It’s a hellhound isn’t it? And this isn’t the first time you’ve seen it… when? When did you see it before?”
“Not that long ago.” Sam answered, still watching the hellhound warily but it was quite content to just stare at Dean, “How’d you know it was a hellhound?”
Missouri ignored the question, carrying on to ask more of her own. “Right before the dreams started?”
“I guess.” Dean said as he slowly stood up, “Why?”
When Missouri didn’t answer Sam frowned, studying her, “Missouri, are you saying that this hellhound has something to do with these dreams?”
She had a sad smile on her face as she looked over at Sam, “Yes… and No.”
“What does that mean?”
“I think it woke something up.”
“Woke something up?” Dean asked, “Woke what up?”
“Something buried inside of you.” Missouri answered cryptically.
“Is this to do with what Ashlyn saw? What she felt?” Sam asked.
“Ashlyn is a misguided woman, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” She replied, eyes falling to the seemingly innocent dog as it lifted its paw up trying to get Dean’s attention.
“Dean, please move away from it.” Sam begged, reaching out gently to grab his brother’s arm. He stopped moving as soon as he saw the hellhound snarl, baring its teeth, a throaty growl escaping from it.
“Sam, don’t touch him. It won’t let you touch him.” Missouri cried out.
“Why the hell not?”
“It thinks your threatening him.”
“Why should it care?”
“Because it… it thinks he’s its master.” The half truth stumbled out of Missouri’s mouth and she wished she had the courage to tell it all. Inside her mind screamed at her – And it’s right.
“That’s impossible. Why would it think that? Because it ‘woke something up’?”
“I… there are stories… but… you wouldn’t believe me. I don’t believe me!”
Dean took a breath, not wanting to get into Sam and Missouri’s argument, and looked back at the dog, asking cautiously, not expecting an answer, “What are you doing here?”
The hellhound actually looked shocked by Dean’s question, as if he had reminded it of its purpose for being there. It suddenly leapt forward and grabbed hold of Dean, tugging at him, pulling him. And it was actually being careful not to hurt him. When he refused to move it let go and barked at him once before grabbing hold again, whimpering and trying to drag him.
It was begging him to go with it. Begging him to follow. Dean swallowed hard and without glancing at Missouri or Sam, he slowly let himself be led out of the room. Once the hellhound seemed to be sure that Dean was following, it let go and clambered down the stairs, glancing back every now and then to make sure Dean was still there.
“Dean?” Sam called, catching up with his brother, “Dean should we really be doing this?”
“I don’t know but if it thinks I’m its master then it won’t hurt me, right?”
The hellhound stopped at the front door and looked up at Dean but before Dean reached it, it whimpered again and backed away from the door. Sam watched as it seemed to try and herd Dean away from the door and when he heard the gentle rap on the door, he wondered if the hellhound knew something they didn’t.
“Don’t answer it.” Sam said simply.
“Yes Sam… because that’s exactly what I was planning on doing.” Dean glared at Sam, “D’you think I’m stupid?”
The hellhound started growling again, but this time it was aimed at the door and it stood protectively in front of Dean. Whoever was on the other side knocked once more and everyone but the hellhound was silent.
Even when you’re on edge and just waiting for something to happen, when that something happens, you can still be caught off guard, if only because you weren’t sure what exactly it was that you were expecting. So when the front door was kicked open with a loud crash and a loud bang, all three of them couldn’t help but jump.
rayuk666 - June 23, 2007 12:39 AM (GMT)
A young girl stood on the other side of the door and Dean recognised her instantly. Her long blond hair wasn’t tied back like last time but down, gently framing her young face. Her lips curled upwards and into a devilish smile and her black eyes landed on the hellhound that was still growling at her before lifting up and locking on Dean.
Towering behind her was older and extremely well built man. He looked like one of those tough guys; bald and strong, tattoo’s running up and down his arms. He was the muscle and he was probably also the one who kicked the door open. He stood there, staring in with hard black eyes, waiting for instructions. It would have been comical if not for their cold callous expressions and the fact that the air seemed to freeze.
“You know, that’s kind of rude – not answering the door when someone’s knocking. Not that I really expect much better from you.” The girl spoke.
“What do you want?” Sam spat at her.
She looked at him with disgust, “You should really stay out of this. After all it’s got nothing to do with you and you should keep it that way.”
Dean sidestepped to make sure he was standing in front of Sam, blocking her view of him. He knew it would be impossible but if he could, he’d prefer to keep Sam out of it, “You leave him alone.”
Behind him he heard Sam protest, muttering his name in caution but Dean just ignored him, focusing on the threat standing before him.
“We’re not here for him. We’re here for you. The almighty traitor. You really thought you could get away with it and we’d never find out? You didn’t think we’d come looking for you?” Her eyes were back on Dean, looking him up and down waiting for his reaction.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Dean snarled. He glanced at the hellhound briefly, its hackles were right up and it was baring its teeth now. It was keeping itself between Dean and these demons and Dean couldn’t help but question why.
“I know… that’s the real kicker ain’t it? You have no clue what you’ve done but that doesn’t get you out of punishment.” She took a step forward and the dog growled louder, “There’s a special place in hell for you, if we don’t totally destroy you first.”
His attention was back on the girl, eyes flicking to the man behind her briefly who was still awaiting instructions, “You really have me confused with someone else.”
She turned to look at the man behind her muttering sarcastically, “Oh well, he says it’s not him. We must be wrong. Those ripples in the air must belong to someone else around here.”
The man behind her smirked and nodded.
“You’re the ones from the Roadhouse aren’t you?” Sam asked suddenly,
“I already told you to keep out of it and no, we’re not with them. They’re morons who have no idea what they’re doing. Hell, they even think you were tricked into it. They think it wasn’t even your choice. Can you believe that?” She sounded outraged by the accusation.
“Well I guess it’s a trait that runs among all demons – stupidity.” Dean snarked.
“Must be contagious too because if you think you can talk your way out of this you’re stupid.” She cocked her head to the side and smirked, “How’s your back? Must have hurt like a bitch, eh?”
Dean froze and narrowed his eyes, anger rising and burning inside him.
“Claws digging deep… but that’s what you get for being a tricky devil, we have to try and hang on even harder to keep hold but you still manage to slip away, past the darkness.”
Dean shook his head slowly. That was impossible. Those things in the dark in his dream… they were demons?
“You just have no clue do you? I’d pity you but you don’t deserve it.”
“I don’t need it either. You are one seriously screwed up chick.” He ground out forcefully, locking eyes and refusing to back down.
Her smarmy smile turned into a grimace as she stared down at the growling dog, probably imaging terrible things to do to it, the barking obviously getting on her last nerve. “You know, he’s really doing my head in. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut your damn mutt up.”
“And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the hell away from him.” Dean’s temper rose as he found himself wanting to keep the hellhound in front of him safe from the demonic bitch – he was sure it had come to warn him and however late the warning may have been he was thankful. But that wasn’t all he felt for it… there was something deeper.
“Hell… funny place really but then again, you know all about that.” She looked behind her, silently telling the man to move into the house.
“Sam, get Missouri out of here.” Dean ordered.
“Dean… no.” Sam pleaded, eyes flashing towards each person in the hallway, landing on Missouri who was biting her lip.
“Dean, you can’t stay here…” She whispered, pleading with the boy to see sense but she could feel the tar rising, the electricity in the air crackling as his temper rose, the barrier already so broken.
“No... she’s right. You can’t but it’s okay, I’m gonna take you back home; back to where you belong.” The girl hissed, she held her hand out behind her back and the man passed her something silver. She held it out in front of her, pointing it towards Dean, “Now once upon a time, this wouldn’t do much good but right now…”
Dean gritted his teeth as he stared down the barrel of the gun, swallowing hard. The gun looked so wrong in the hands of a child, even one whose eyes were blacker and darker than the demon’s ‘soul’ that resided insider her. Do demons even have souls? Dean questioned in his mind. He had wondered it many times before and he and Sam had even debated about it once when they were younger.
But whether or not demons had souls, he had a gun pointed at his head and he was so sure that this was it, this was the end because he saw her finger moving to pull the trigger. And she did. She pulled the trigger but before either had time to react; the hellhound was up, diving for her, driving the gun up and away from Dean but unfortunately into it.
Sam watched as the girl cursed and she landed heavily on the floor, the hellhound whimpering next to her. She pushed herself into a kneeling position next to the dog and placed her fingers on the wound in the dogs chest. Dean took an angry step forward but Sam grabbed his arms holding him back so all Dean could do was shout and threaten “Stay away from him you bitch!”
She smiled wickedly and raised her now bloody fingers to her lips, licking the crimson liquid away, “Tasty.”
The hellhound half whimpered, half growled - the pain its shell was feeling coursing through its essence.
“Dean!” Missouri warned, or at least tried to warn, as she watched on in horror “You have to calm down.”
Dean turned to face her for a moment but ignored her, returning to the fray at hand. Eyes following the girls every move. He shook Sam’s hand off him, silently telling him he wasn’t planning anything stupid. But hell… he wanted to. He wanted to throw himself at her and tear her apart limb from limb.
Sam continued to watch the girl as she pulled herself all the way up and lifted the gun up, aiming it at the dog’s head. And what he also watched was how this threat to the dog’s life, to the hellhound, angered Dean even more. He watched as his brother’s eyes shone brightly with rage before Dean closed them briefly and then time seemed to slow.
She pulled the trigger, Dean opened his eyes… but then, they weren’t his eyes anymore. Their usual colour was masked and mixed with a chaotic combination of crimson and black, forever moving around the cold empty pupils, like lava and fire. The bullet that should have entered into the dog’s skull dissipated into thin air instead. And the girl looked towards Dean in horror, the large man at the door stumbled back in fear and Missouri gasped behind him. And then Dean spoke.
As he spoke, more than one voice echoed. Sammy counted three. The first was Dean’s; only far angrier than Sam had ever heard him in his entire life.
“No one touches my dog!” The voice cried, “You wish to betray me? Then let the crows of hell feast upon your sinners’ hearts.”
The second voice was like a rumble, violent and dangerous and its words, whilst holding the same meaning, were far older. Sam recognised them instantly – Latin. He used it often. They were cold and harsh.
And the last voice that Sam could hear was barely a whisper, yet it was more terrifying then the other two combined. It was a voice that would shake the wind and would cause chaos wherever it was spoken. Its choice of language was neither English nor Latin and though Sam rarely came across it, he could distinguish the twists and turns of each word. Its choice of language was Hebrew.
“RETURN!” All three voices spoke in union, in their respective language.
Sam found the sight in front of him far too disgusting to watch, and yet for some horrifying reason, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. The demons shrieked and screamed as their flesh burned and their limbs twisted at odd angles, as if the bodies were closing in on themselves.
“Return.” The voiced echoed again.
And there was silence.
Sam looked at where the demon once stood but there was nothing to see – no ash or melted flesh. He could smell it but there was nothing to see. No evidence of what had just happened.
He returned his attention to Dean whose eyes had fallen closed and whose body fell limp. Without even having to think about it or command his body, Sam immediately reached out and grabbed Dean, laying him gently on the ground and checking his vitals. He was breathing and he had a steady heartbeat, so that was a good sign.
When his eyes flickered open to reveal the natural colour that they were supposed to be, his brow creased questioningly and Sam expected him to ask what had happened. Instead, in one voice – his own voice – he croaked out, “What am I?”
s_baum - June 26, 2007 05:03 PM (GMT)
catchme21 - June 27, 2007 04:39 AM (GMT)
Aw it stops there?
Awesome work. I like the concept that Dean could be Mr. Satan himself, trying to be redeemed. Gotta love it though...haha.
Looking forward to more soon! I'm glad you're posting it here. :)
rayuk666 - June 27, 2007 05:11 PM (GMT)
Thank you! Glad to have you both reading :D I just think it would be kind of ironic to have Dean as Satan...
I guess it's time to be posting the next chapter!
Ignorance is bliss, the truth just downright sucks…
Sam stared at his brother, not knowing the answer to the question. He was Dean Winchester, brother, hunter, protector… but there was obviously so much more to him that neither of them knew about.
“Dean… I… If I could keep this from you I really would because you don’t deserve it. But I know I can’t… I know there’ll be more of them coming.” Sam looked at Missouri as she spoke, his eyes pleading for answers.
His attention was brought back to his brother though as Dean struggled to free himself of Sam’s grip and crawled over to the whimpering hellhound. Tears threatened to spill from Dean’s bright clear eyes as he placed a shaking hand on the dogs gunshot wound and looked up at Sam, begging, “Sammy, please we have to help him. Please, do something.”
“Dean… he’s dying.” Sam tried to reason, pulling himself up so he was standing over his brother.
“No. Meg’s host didn’t die while she was still inside… he can’t die Sam.” Dean continued begging, his hand pressed firmly against the wound thought Sam could still see it shaking.
Missouri watched the pleading boy in front of her, he looked so young, he looked so innocent. All anger faded into worry, no longer the raging beast he was just a moment before, “Sam, there’s a first aid kit up in the bathroom.”
“The bullet…” Dean choked back a sob, watching the blood staining his hands.
“I’ll go get some things to get it out with.”
And with that, Missouri rushed off to the kitchen and Sam rushed up the stairs leaving Dean begging the dog beneath his hands not to die. It took nearly an hour to remove the bullet and patch the dog back up and seen as the dog only allowed Dean to touch it, he was the one who had to do it, continuously telling the hellhound he was sorry and telling it not to die.
Shortly after ‘surgery’, the hellhound fell into a dreamless sleep and Dean lifted it up into his arms and followed Missouri and Sam through to the living area where Sam and Dean took the couch, the hellhound laid across Dean’s knees, and Missouri sat opposite, just like before. She watched as Dean stared down at the dog and stroked the fur gently, his eyes were red with unspent tears.
“Missouri?” Sam broke the silence that had fallen and was looking expectantly at the psychic, “You know what’s going on don’t you?”
“I have an idea and you’re really not going to like it.” She turned to face Sam, her eyes begging him to forgive her and to comfort her.
“We need to know.” Sam sighed, “Doesn’t matter whether we like it or not.”
“There’s this story, it’s not an old story. In fact it’s still so young that some consider it a rumour more than a story. Well… the story speaks of good and evil and destiny and redemption. According to the story, a very old and powerful demon was given a second chance by God himself. Now this demon was the worst of the worst, it was evil incarnate.” Missouri started, a lump forming quickly in her lump, “Even other demons feared it, and just its name was enough to make them cower.”
Dean had raised his head now, “Why would God give a demon a second chance? A demon is a demon. They’re just plain evil. Are you saying that God actually expected this demon to become good?”
“God is very wise. And honey, you see, this demon never used to be a demon. He once held a place in heaven. He was an angel… still is in a way I guess. You’re regular fallen angel. You see, in order to keep a true balance in the world, there has to be both good and evil and well, this unlucky angel seemed to be the one destined to be the first evil. It’s not like he chose it… it chose him.”
Sam frowned, listening carefully to Missouri, trying to relate everything together, “And?”
“And well… there’s so much evil in the world that God thought that maybe now would be the time to give his ‘rival’ a chance to lead a normal life for once and move away from the path that destiny had originally carved out for him. He felt sorry for the cards that life had dealt the demon.”
“I’ve got a very bad feeling about where you’re going with this.” Dean tried to grin but worry was too evident in his eyes.
“He decided that he wanted a shot at redemption because he was well, sick of being the bad guy. So he was reborn as a mortal - a normal average mortal leading a normal ordinary life. Or at least that was the plan. But it wasn’t just any demon; not just any fallen angel. How many fallen angels do you know of?”
“One.” Dean answered before Sam could get in with his freaky supernatural knowledge, “Just one.”
“Lucifer. Satan. The Devil.” Missouri sighed.
“He doesn’t exist. He’s just a myth, a legend.” Sam swallowed hard.
“Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, demons… they’re all myths, they’re all just stories but the pair of you know better and you know I’m telling the truth.”
“Don’t say it.” Dean asked, closing his eyes briefly, “Please, Missouri. You’re wrong.”
“Dean…” Missouri started but found her throat tightening once again, “I wish I was wrong. But the hellhound? The dreams? Those demons? You can’t deny the proof.”
“I can deny what the damned hell I want.” Dean spat, his hand had stopped stroking the dog in front of him, frozen. He was scared, terrified of the implication Missouri was making. He could feel the bile rising up his throat.
“There’s no way. It’s stupid and impossible. How the hell do you expect us to believe that?” Sam jumped to his feet, almost as if he was trying to threaten Missouri into taking it all back.
“I never believed the stories… until now. I still can’t wrap my head around it. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change who you are.”
“Of course it changes who I am! I’m no better than the things we hunt. I’m worse than the things we hunt. Everything is my fault… Jess… Mom… Dad… I killed them – or at least I caused their deaths one way or another. No! I don’t believe you.” He turned his head away and gritted his teeth, “I can’t…”
“I think we better go…” Sam whispered.
“Don’t even think about it. Where would you go? There are demons out there looking for you.” Missouri stood up and though she was nowhere near Sam’s height, she was just as threatening.
“Missouri…” Dean warned, still keeping his eyes averted.
“No! You are Dean Winchester, son of John and Mary Winchester, brother of Samuel Winchester. You are a good man and a hero. You may have the soul of Satan but you are not evil. If you ask me… this whole second chance thing is working out pretty well. I’m not going to let you throw away all those years just because you’ve found something bad out.”
“Found something bad out? Something bad is when you find your girlfriend cheating on you with your best friend, something bad is when you fall and break your arm. This… THIS is a freaking catastrophe… a freaking disaster. I am the embodiment of evil. How can you say that this is just bad?”
“No… this isn’t happening. You can’t just tell us something like that. My brother isn’t… he isn’t…” Sam muttered under his breath.
“You saw what he did.”
“I killed a little girl…” Dean gasped in realisation, bile rising even further, stinging his throat, “I sent her to hell along with that demon that was inside her. Oh God… she was just a little girl. She was a kid.”
“You don’t know that.” Missouri whispered, “You don’t really know what just happened.”
Dean gently lifted the hellhound from his knee and stood up, placing it where he had just been sitting before turning away from Missouri and Sam to leave the room, “I know exactly what I did… I could feel it.” Part of me even enjoyed it. But his last thoughts went unheard, even to the mind reader, and he willed his body to move out of the room. The open front door was tempting but his coiling guts and light head forced him up the stairs and towards the bathroom where he closed the door behind him and fell to the floor in front of the toilet, torn between trying to keep the sick down and just letting it come up.
One deep breath and he closed his eyes, remembering flashes from the dream, echoes of those spoken words.
Why? What was so important about seeing? Ignorance is bliss… that’s how the saying goes, right? What’s so wrong with things staying hidden?
The truth? What was the truth? That he was really one of the things that he hunted? And what about the lie? The lie that everything he’d done didn’t make an iota of difference? That all those big bads he’d destroyed meant nothing because there would always be him left...?
He knew the stories. He’d studied the bible… the verses… everything… he knew what Satan had done, what the stories claimed he’d done. That was the past. What about the present? What the hell about the present? What did that mean?
“The beginning of evil.”
THE END OF GOOD.
The beginning of evil… well that was easy. Satan was evil. The first evil. The first big bad mother f***ing evil son of a bitch. And the end of good? What was that? Was it a warning or just a statement – telling him that the whole chance for redemption thing was a load of bull and he was going to end up… evil, no matter what.
“Free the soul.”
Just whose soul was the voice referring to? His? Satan’s? Were they one in the same? And how was he supposed to free himself? Or was the voice not talking to him?
His guts clenched and he couldn’t hold it back anymore, stress and emotions far too much, palms clammy and sweaty, body shaking, breathing heavy, and everything he’d eaten in the past day ended up at the bottom of the toilet.
s_baum - June 27, 2007 05:26 PM (GMT)
Its soo good! this story is friggn amazing...
catchme21 - June 29, 2007 03:54 AM (GMT)
Oh Dean isn't going to do something stupid now, is he? And are all the demons out there stupid? Apparently messing with the Devil, even though he is reincarnated as Dean, is probably like poking a dog with a stick. I have the feeling that the demons are going to do something stupid, and that Dean is going to follow the voice.
Or maybe I'm just hoping for some good Dean kicking-ass scenes. Bwahahahaa...
Awesome writing! So original, I'm loving it!
rayuk666 - July 2, 2007 03:04 PM (GMT)
s_baum - Thanks! I'm really pleased you like it.
catchme21 - Messing with Dean anytime is like poking a dog with a stick, lol, it's just even worse if he happens to be the reincarnation of well... evil itself. He he - I'm definately gonna try and add some scenes where the bro's kick-ass! So thanks for reading.
The next chapters nearly finished so hopefully I'll have that up later. :D
rayuk666 - July 5, 2007 10:45 AM (GMT)
“Leave him Sam.” Missouri spoke gently, stopping Sam from following his brother out the door, “Give him a minute.”
“What is he tries to do something stupid?”
“Well I wouldn’t blame him but we’ve got to trust him.” She placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder, “He needs some time to deal with this. He’s in denial, you both are.”
“In denial? After what you just told us? How could we not be?”
“Sam, take a seat and settle down before you wake the dog.”
“You mean Dean’s pet hellhound?” He raised his arms to exaggerate his disbelief.
“Sam!” Missouri hissed warningly.
“I’m sorry. I am. It’s just…” Sam sat back down, “Well, Dean isn’t an angel, we all know that but he isn’t the Devil either. He can’t be. Not after everything he’s done. Not after everything he’s been through.”
“It’s harder for you to believe but I think deep down… Dean knows it’s the truth.”
Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “Okay, let’s say it is true – which I still don’t believe – what are we supposed to do? Are we supposed to just keep going on as we are? And those demons… there’ll be more. How can we defend ourselves against that?”
He didn’t remember falling asleep but he must have, why else would he be back here – in the darkness. From what he could tell, he was just lying there. He could feel the eyes on him, feel the ‘demons’ moving closer but he did nothing. He felt completely numb, emotionally and physically – just numb.
A breeze blew past, gently caressing his skin but he just ignored it. He didn’t even blink – hell, he didn’t even know whether his eyes were open or closed. Deafening silence pounded at him but he just took it, waiting for it to end – waiting for the darkness to dissolve into the desert or for someone to just wake him up.
He felt something nudge his arm, lifting it so something soft could crawl under it, whimpering, snuggling into him. He looked down at the form and managed to catch the glow from soft red eyes looking back up at him.
“Heya boy.” He muttered, stroking the hellhound’s fur, “What you doing here?”
He felt it’s body tense and heard it growl but the growl was not directed at him, it was meant for the advancing shadows.
“Shhh, it’s okay. Haven’t you heard?” Dean said, mocking the darkness whilst trying to comfort the hellhound, “I’m the freaking prince of darkness.”
And at these words, the darkness faded and he was laid underneath that large tree next to the hellhound. He stared at the leaves and watched them dance as the warm wind whipped through them. Somewhere deep in the distance, he heard thunder rumbling and found himself wondering where the lightning was or even the rain.
“It should be raining.” Dean stated.
The hellhound lifted it’s head and placed it on Dean’s chest, ears perked as it listened.
“But it never rains in the desert does it?” He asked.
The chorus of voices that existed on the wind answered him.
“When the soul weeps.”
WHEN THE BODY CRIES.
“Whatever.” He mumbled and lifted his hand to stroke the hellhound’s head. The hellhound leaned into the touch and Dean looked down at it, tilting his head, “Do you have a name?”
The hellhound just stared back.
“You need one.”
And again, the voices interrupted his thoughts.
“Names are nothing.”
NAMES ARE EVERYTHING.
“They bind you.”
THEY FREE YOU.
“Shut up.” Dean hissed at the voices before looking down at the hellhound again, “Okay, I’ll name you.”
The hellhound’s eyes glistened and it listened carefully, waiting for it’s master to give it a name, any name… just something to identify it.
“Cujo’s taken and Fido sounds like a poodle… Rex? Too cliché. I know – Dante… as in Dante’s inferno… you don’t like it? Okay… Ripper? Ripper’s a good name.”
The hellhound seemed to ponder this name before laying it’s head back on Dean’s chest, “Ripper it is then.”
Lightening flashed across the sky and thunder roared within seconds of it disappearing. Dean looked over to the horizon and pulled himself up so he rested on his elbows. Ripper’s hackles went up and Dean frowned, only just realising something.
“How long have I been dreaming?”
“Maybe I should…” Sam looked towards the door, “It’s been half an hour… I should see if he’s okay.”
Missouri nodded, she’d been letting Sam vent and calm down so that when the time came, he’d be able to deal with Dean venting. He was worried, she was too, and now after half an hour, that niggling feeling at the back of her mind became more prominent.
The hellhound whimpered and both Sam and Missouri looked at it, hackles raised, muzzle rising into a snarl in its sleep. Then with a cry and a yelp, it woke up and jumped off the seat, everything about it was alert, its eyes, ears, posture and it was already setting off out the room and towards the stairs.
Another cry was heard, painful and human, it echoed through the hall upstairs and down towards Sam and Missouri.
“Dean!” Sam shouted, rushing off after the hellhound.
The hellhound reached the bathroom door first and was barking at it, jumping up and scratching at it. It turned to look at Sam and barked, looking back towards the door. Sam pushed in front of the dog and grabbed the handle, allowing the door to swing open.
Dean lay on the bathroom floor, features pale and body shaking violently with a pool of blood around his head.
He pushed himself up some more and Ripper rose with him, offering an unsteady Dean something to keep him upright when he was finally on his feet.
“What the hell?” Dean asked, the lightning flashed more violently, purple and red and orange and blue, and the thunders roar echoed deep in his skull causing him to wince.
Ripper was growling at his side and Dean placed his hand on Ripper’s head and gently scrubbed him behind the ears, “Settle down boy…”
Dean took a step forward and faltered, losing his footing, but he didn’t fall. He stumbled before righting himself, the ground beneath him rumbled with the thunder, threatening to bring him to his knees.
Ripper was barking now and Dean spun around to see him going crazy, barking and growling at the tree along with the storm in the distance, “Ripper? What’s going on?”
The dog was panicked and was trying it’s best to hide it’s fear but Dean could tell, mainly because whatever was happening was scaring the hell out of him too. He was just about to move back towards Ripper when he felt the ground beneath him crack and something wrapped tightly around his ankle.
When he glanced down he saw a deep red root curling its way up his leg, he grabbed it and ripped it away, noticing the rips in his jeans where it had been and the blood gently seeping out of fresh wounds. He moved away from the root, his heart racing, and glanced back towards Ripper but Ripper wasn’t there anymore.
“Ripper!” Dean shouted above the noise of the thunder, “Ripper!”
But there was no answer, only the thunder.
“Sammy!” Dean shouted instead and he knew he wouldn’t get an answer but it was just instinct, “Sa----!”
His next cry for Sam was cut short by a cry of pain as another root shot up from the ground and wrapped around his neck, bringing his body down hard and causing his head to smash against the dusty dessert floor. He was sure he heard a crack and when he lifted up his hand to feel, it was sticky and wet.
catchme21 - July 5, 2007 05:38 PM (GMT)
What in the hell happened? Pun totally intended.
Awesome update! Now it is obligatory for me to ask for another one...please?
jinxed45 - July 8, 2007 12:53 PM (GMT)
please update soon. this is gettin good.
JennieC - July 8, 2007 09:00 PM (GMT)
This is freaking me out - and I don't freak out easily.
Seriously, The Exorcist bored the crap out of me. The Shinning actually had me rolling my eyes. Rosemary's Baby, The Omen(s) did nothing for me (except for the gruesome elevator scene in The Omen III which made me gag).
The Sentinel (original) and Salem's Lot kept my attention, and so does this. Please update soon - I need to know where this is going because I am officially freaked.
ps - I love Ripper! Is that a fan wank to Buffy?
:cheer :cheer :cheer
rayuk666 - July 8, 2007 11:55 PM (GMT)
HEYA!!! Just replying... no update yet but I am working on it - I promise!!!
catchme21 - he he, thanks. Love the pun! And thank you for the vote over in the awards section... I was looking through for good fanfic rec's and was really pleased to see you mention mine :D
jinxed45 - Thanks! Gonna try and get an update shortly!
JennieC - Thank you... and Buffy... *shifty eyes* I don't know what you're talking about... I mean it's not like a certain favourite librarian had the nickname Ripper or anything... lol but yeah... a kind of link to Buffy (and Jack the Ripper).
(Wanna also thank JJ Apples for the vote as well... :D)
rayuk666 - July 10, 2007 12:10 AM (GMT)
His now sticky hand wrapped itself around the root that kept him locked against the ground, bringing his other hand up he tried his best to pull it away so he could escape but it refused to release him. Lightning flashed across the sky again, a beautiful and horrifying array of colours, leaving spots dancing in his eyes and causing shadows to stretch from invisible figures.
Dean turned his aching head to the side and watched as the lightning disappeared but the shadows didn’t, they twisted and turned, deformed and terrifying, creeping along the sands towards him, moving slowly, cautious of what lay in front of them. Thunder roared in answer to the lightning and the shadows froze briefly, he could feel their fear, hear their trembling as it shook the sands.
The voices from before began speaking again, whispering to him, spouting riddles but one thing he knew, though he didn’t know how, was that the voices didn’t belong to the shadows.
“You should be.”
BUT DON’T BE.
The shadows continued edging their way towards him, curiosity sending them closer, interest driving them forward. He pulled at the root again, thrashing about as he tried to get loose but more roots just came up and grabbed hold of him, trying to keep him still. He let out a strangled cry and silently begged to be set free and still the voices spoke to him.
“You know what you are.”
YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.
“You can feel the hunger.”
YOU CAN FEEL THE THIRST.
And then he heard another voice, one different from the riddlers’, a familiar voice, strong and desperate, calling for him, screaming at him, commanding him.
“Oh God! Dean…” Sam cried; falling to the floor next to his brother, he heard Missouri coming through the door but didn’t turn to her; instead he reached out his hand and gently lifted Dean’s head, swallowing hard as the blood wet his fingers.
Somewhere down at Dean’s leg, the hellhound lay it’s head and paw on his still seizing body, whimpering softly.
“Support his head…” Missouri whispered from behind Sam, “Try and keep him still.”
Sam nodded and crawled closer to Dean, pulling himself under his brother so Dean’s head and shoulders were in his lap once again. One hand searched Dean’s skull for the bleeding and when coming across a swollen point, Sam stopped and applied slight pressure, hoping to stop or at least calm it. His other hand wrapped itself around Dean’s chest, keeping him steady.
“Come on Dean… please wake up…” Sam begged. He looked up at Missouri as she moved about the bathroom, grabbing a towel and handing it to him, “Hospital… we need to get him to a hospital.”
“We need wake him up first.” Missouri stated calmly, “Then we’ll decide if he needs to go…”
Sam nodded numbly and looking back down to his shaking brother, “Come on Dean.”
And then the shaking stopped, Dean stopped. He fell completely silent and completely still and the hellhound’s whimpering grew louder.
“Dean…” Sam choked out as he felt along Dean’s neck for a pulse, “DEAN!”
His fingers found the pulse, weak but there and as Sam was about to breath a sigh of relief, Dean gasped and his eyes shot open. But they were unseeing and unfocused and they weren’t his. They were the same ones from before, a chaos of red and black, moving freely around distant empty pupils, fire scorching it’s way through the irises leaving lava in it’s wake.
Then it was gone, eyes returning to their normal hazel green that Sam knew and loved, they searched the room and landed on Sam, distressed and puzzled and Dean opened his mouth to speak.
“Shhh… it’s okay.” Sam now had the towel pressed against the back of Dean’s head and he used his other hand, which had been holding Dean down, to try and calm his brother, “Just breathe. Come on. Deep and slow.”
Dean closed his mouth and turned his head to the side, trying to take Sam’s advice he took a deep breath but it got lost on it’s way to his lungs, causing a hiccup type of reaction and then fit of coughs came shortly after. He felt Sam turn him to the side as he kept coughing and he felt the sick coppery taste rising and sticking to his tongue as his blood came up and spilled over his lips.
“Come on, breathe.” Sam repeated, patting his brothers back. He glanced up at Missouri, happy to see her reading his thoughts and reaching for a glass of water. When she filled one up, she handed it to Sam and he put it to Dean’s lips, “Drink this, just a couple of sips.”
Dean turned away from the glass, raising a heavy hand to wipe away the blood on his chin. His coughing stopped but breathing wasn’t any easier.
“Please Dean.” Sam begged, putting the glass to his lips once more and tilting it so the cool refreshing liquid splashed Dean’s dry lips, “Please.”
Swallowing hard, Dean opened his mouth a little and Sam supported his head so he could drink. He took small sips and rolled his head away when he felt he had enough. He’d barely even had a quarter of the water that was in the glass but his throat just felt too tight.
“Dean… come on. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Sam whispered.
Dean just nodded but his eyes didn’t meet Sam’s. Thoughts tumbling over each other as he tried to make some sort of sense of what had happened in his dream and why every part of him really felt like he’d been attacked. His throat a little clearer, he took a deep shuddering breath and looking down, he saw Ripper snuggling into his leg.
Sam saw Dean’s gaze and looked down at the hellhound too, smiling slightly, “Guess he’s learned that I’m not going to hurt you.”
Dean nodded again and cleared his throat, “I’ve called him Ripper.”
Sam bit his lip at the pain laced in Dean’s words, “Ripper… should have guessed it’d be something like that.”
“Do you think I’m evil?”
“What? No way, Dean you are far from evil. If you were evil I’d have sorted you out several states ago.”
“But it’s all my fault…”
“None of it is your fault.” Sam stated firmly, hating how young and vulnerable Dean sounded, “None of it.”
Missouri knelt down next to Sam and placed a hand on his shoulder, she had the first aid kit in her other hand. Sam hadn’t even heard her leave and come back, “Can I have a look?”
“Dean… this might hurt I little but you’ve been bleeding pretty badly back here, we’re just gonna check it out, okay?” Sam spoke gently as he lifted Dean up so that Missouri could see the back of his head.
She grabbed another towel and dampened it, cleaning away the blood so she could get a better look at the cut but as hard as she looked, she couldn’t find anything. Her fingers laced through his hair, feeling his skull and though she felt him wince, she couldn’t feel any lumps or see anything that looked like it had been bleeding.
“There’s… there’s nothing there.”
catchme21 - July 10, 2007 07:04 AM (GMT)
Update soon, k? I know you just updated, but I'm greedy like that.
And I had a tough time deciding on what to nominate, so many tough choices out there. But I'm def hooked on this story. :)
Best of luck!!
rayuk666 - July 19, 2007 01:18 PM (GMT)
He he - thanks Kris. I've finally managed to get an update written... it's not like I've been busy or anything... just haven't been able to get anything down but here it is :D
Alice in Wonderland Analogy
Sam had helped Dean to his feet and had helped him hobble along to the bedroom where he took a seat on the bed and drew his knees up while Sam sat at the edge just watching him. Ripper followed them, deciding to sit by the door, keeping watch, ears perked up and eyes searching the surrounding area, paying particular attention to the shadows, as if he thought something could jump out from them at any moment. Missouri stayed behind to clean up the bathroom, letting the brothers have a few moments to collect themselves.
“I don’t get it.” Dean said simply.
“Don’t get what?” Sam asked.
“How can I be The Devil? I mean, come on! Holy water, salt lines, Christo for GOD’S SAKE!” Dean growled – his use of words causing Ripper to flinch, the hellhound’s eyes flashing red momentarily. The hellhound’s flinch turned into a wince as Dean’s voice rose and Sam found himself wincing at the ferocity behind his brother’s words as well.
“Let’s not think about it… you… you’re covered in blood. You should get changed… I’m sure there are still some clean clothes in one of your bags.” Then he added with a smile, “If you keep having these dreams the laundry bill is gonna be impossible to pay.”
“That’s funny.” Dean muttered, “I know it’s funny but I just can’t… this is freaking me out big time Sam. Never mind the blood, these dreams aren’t normal… they’re too real. I… I was afraid I wasn’t going to wake up. And when I did I didn’t feel… right.”
Sam swallowed hard, listening to his brother voice his fears. The same fears that Sam had. When Dean had refused to wake up it had nearly killed him and when he did wake up, those eyes, “They weren’t yours.”
“What weren’t mine?”
Sam looked up at his brother, not realising he’d spoke out loud, “Your eyes Dean. They were wrong. When you woke up they looked just like they did before, when we were downstairs. I didn’t know what to think. You scared the hell out of me.”
“Well according to Missouri I have the right to; I’m a demon after all.”
“You’re not a demon boy!” Missouri chided from the doorway, slipping warily past the guard dog who merely watched her.
“Make your damn mind up.” Dean snapped at her, pulling his knees further in like a sulky teenager.
“Don’t you take that tone with me! I could just tell you to give me the money for the damages and then be on your merry way but you know I won’t. You are not a demon. Even if you didn’t hear the whole ‘reborn as a mortal’ part I was talking about, you do know the stories that Lucifer was an angel, not a demon. There’s a difference between fallen angels and demons, not much… but there is a difference.”
Dean refused to meet Missouri’s eyes as she talked, he felt like a child who’d been told that no, Santa wasn’t made up, he was the big fat ugly guy who stole all your good presents and ate all the cookies and left mucky handprints all over the house so you’d get the blame.
“Now, these dreams - you need to tell us what is happening in them.”
Sam looked over at Dean expectantly, the way his head titled slightly to the side mirrored Ripper who padded over to the bed and rested his head on the end near Sam but nearer Dean.
“I don’t know. It’s like Alice in Wonderland - nonsense and riddles. I think the darkness is full of demons… bitch downstairs pretty much said as much. But it’s just a dream, so how could they be real?” Dean stared at his knees as he spoke, trying to work his way through each dream but none of them made any sense.
“And they’re the ones that hurt you before?” Sam asked, eyes landing on the forgotten shirt he and Dean had been arguing about earlier, “The ones that make you bleed?”
“How should I know? You said so yourself, I’ve got no wounds. There’s nothing there. It’s as if someone just poured corn syrup around me.” That was a lie. Sure there were no visual reminders - that didn’t mean there weren’t others, the spots continued aching for awhile after like they were bruised or something.
“What happened in the last dream? What did they do to you to make you bleed so badly?”
“They didn’t do anything.” Dean swallowed hard, “They didn’t even touch me. It was like they were scared of me… like I was some kind of bomb and if they got too close I’d explode and take them with me.”
“Then what happened to your head? And you’ve got spots of blood all over like something cut you… if the demons didn’t do it then what did?” Sam pressed, urging for his brother to tell him more so he could start to understand what was happening.
“The tree… it was weird and wrong and… I tried to get free but its roots just shot up and grabbed me and wouldn’t let go.” Dean turned to face the window, his expression carefully blank.
Ripper whimpered and raised his paw up onto the edge of the bed; he didn’t even resemble a hellhound at that moment, if anything he looked like a worried dog who was trying to sneak onto the bed unnoticed. But Sam noticed. He didn’t call him on it, he just noticed and he also noticed how tense Dean was becoming talking about the dreams.
“Why’d you call him Ripper?” He asked and Dean turned to stare at Sam, shooting him the ‘stop being patronizing’ look that he’d used for as long as Sam could remember, “What? I wanna know.”
“Dude, stop talking to me like I’m five years old. He needed a name and I gave him one.”
“But why? I mean… he’s a hellhound. Why’d you wanna name a hellhound?”
“Names are impo…” Dean froze mid-sentence, remembering something else about the dreams. There were voices… a chorus of them; they were the worst riddles because they’d kept talking to him and he had no idea what they meant. They were like opposites and he remembered one side telling him how names were nothing while the other side told him that names were everything.
“You’re hearing voices?” Sam asked, unconsciously listening for anything that may sound off.
“No you dimwit, not now – in the dreams.” Dean frowned, “It’s like listening to the Mad Hatter and the Cheshire Cat arguing…”
“Again with the Alice in Wonderland analogy…”
“What? She was the original Dorothy… she fell asleep and went to the weird dream world first… and now I’m doing it. This tree is like the red queen and the wicked witch rolled into one – now that’s a scary thought. Can you imagine what it would be like if those two got together?”
“Can you imagine what it would be like if you stayed on topic… this is serious Dean.” Sam chided, shoving himself up from the bed angrily.
“I’m sorry Sam. I’m sorry but… I don’t know what else to do.”
“Well, you can start by fixing my front door that your friends so kindly broke and then you can help your brother get the spare down. We’ll figure the rest out later.” Missouri nodded, glaring at both boys warning them not to answer back, “But before you do anything, get a change of clothes because I don’t want my neighbours talking anymore than they already will be.”
Dean and Sam stared after Missouri as she left the room, “I guess she told us, huh?”
Sam could only nod numbly in agreement.
catchme21 - July 20, 2007 06:41 AM (GMT)
Aw the poor boys. I understand Sam is trying to understand, but dude, just remember this is your brother you're dealing with.
Awesome update Rayuk. Sucks that its not coming out, but hopefully it'll come easier. Chocolate always seems to work with my muse, or the threat of a time-out. :)
I'm looking forward to reading more, find out what these dreams are, and what the hell the voices are saying. They're confusing the hell out of me haha.
Poor poor Dean. I like Ripper though. Lol he's hell hound turned Lassie.
catchme21 - July 31, 2007 05:32 PM (GMT)
*comes to thread and releases a big, disappointed sigh*
Oh well...maybe there'll be an update tomorrow...
No hurry, just wanted to let you know I'm still holdin' out for an update. :)
*shuffles feet and slowly walks back out*
rayuk666 - August 1, 2007 07:52 PM (GMT)
Sorry, lol. Lost my thread this past week and a half, finally got it back so I'm hoping to get some stuff down.
I'm thinking about sitting down with a bowl full of melted chocolate and my laptop to get my muse back on track. :D Sounds so tempting.
I promise I won't abandon it and thanks for sticking with it, he he. I have plans for this story :fire In fact I'm off work tomorrow so I think I'll have a late night of writing
I'm really glad you like Ripper! - Been reading thought your World of Confusion... he he, brill!
jinxed45 - August 12, 2007 01:12 PM (GMT)
bowl of chocolate owrking out for you? pleaseupdate soon!!
JammasterJ - August 13, 2007 08:35 AM (GMT)
Hey, just finished reading your amazing story. I love it!! I have always been fascintated with Lucifer and his fall from grace and the war that supposedly reigned in heaven for our souls. I find it all really interesting and I love your irony of having Dean as Lucifer. Awesome story with amzing writing. Please post more soon!! :lol:
rayuk666 - August 18, 2007 01:32 AM (GMT)
I FINALLY have an update... it's amazing! Feels like forever since I updated... Thank you for your patience... and words of encouragement and kindness... YEY!
Never did get that bowl of chocolate... though I did have a really nice cup of hot choco tonight...
And Dean as a Lucifer... too good to resist. I've always been fascinated with Lucifer and the raging war as well so to mix two things I'm minorly borderline obsessed with together... well, it's fun. :D
Anyway... onto the chapter!!! And thank you again!
A friend in need is a friend indeed
Now, anyone who’s actually tried to mend a door that was kicked open and broken by demon possessed people would understand what a difficult task it actually is. Even more so when it’s dark outside and you want to get the door back into place before any other uninvited guests decide to try and enter your home. Of course it doesn’t help much either when you’re trying to hold the door still and your phone begins violently vibrating in your pocket.
Dean stared at the ringing pocket and shifted his body and his hold on the door, “Go on and answer it. We’ll just lean it back a second.”
Sam nodded and the brothers leant the door back, before he answered with a short ‘hello’ while Dean sat down and picked up a hammer out of boredom.
“Sam! Good to hear your voice.”
“Ellen? What’s wrong?” Sam asked, possible tragedies running through his head.
“Nothing’s wrong. Just calling to make sure you boys are safe, you are safe ain’t ya?”
Dean watched as his brother nodded into the phone, once swinging hammer now hanging loosely in his hand as he strained to hear the conversation.
“Yeah, we’re safe.” He nearly scoffed, safe as you can be when your brother is Satan himself.
“Good. Where you boys at? You got some place to stay?”
“We’re staying at an old friend’s.” Sam replied after slight hesitation.
“And how is Bobby?”
Sam’s throat tightened as he heard the question, “Wouldn’t know Ellen – haven’t seen him for quite some time.”
Dean couldn’t here anything from the other side of the phone but whatever Ellen had asked had made Sam tense. The hammer dropped from his hand so he could rub his temple, sickly pain washing over him.
“Shame… well you boys stay safe.”
“We will.” Sam replied, cursing as he hung up on the now dead line.
Dean’s hand touched something sticky and wet. He growled under his breath in frustration before wiping the offending blood away from his nose before Sam could see, pretending he was rubbing to rid himself of an itch, “She possessed?”
“Sounds like it.” Sam sighed, sitting down on the floor in front of Dean, “She was asking how Bobby was… Maybe I’m being paranoid but it sounded like…”
“She was expecting you to slip up?”
“Yeah. You don’t think he’s in trouble do you?”
“I dunno. If she doesn’t believe you then maybe or maybe there’s some demons heading over there right now.” Dean shrugged.
“’Course I am…”
Sam frowned, “You look a little dazed.”
“Yeah. You got a headache or something?”
Dean shook his head and looked out into the open air, “Not now but…”
“You did when I was on the phone?” Sam finished.
“I dunno Sam. Probably just stress.”
Sam shook his head but didn’t press it, instead he pushed himself up from the ground and reached out a hand to pull Dean up, “We better get a move on with this door.”
“Then you’ll call Bobby and make sure he’s okay. Warn him that there may be trouble.”
“Why don’t you? You have a phone as well.”
Dean shrugged and his eyes fell to the floor as he helped Sam with the door, not wanting to voice the reason he didn’t want to call Bobby. Bobby was the type of person who could sense when something was ‘off’, particularly something supernatural and it scared Dean to think that if he called Bobby then Bobby might ‘feel’ something there.
“Do you think Dad knew?” He asked suddenly, “Do you think he had any idea that…”
“What’s to know? You have a past life. It happens. I bet there’s someone walking around out there with the soul of Adolf Hitler or even Attila the Hun.” Sam replied.
“Not really comparable Sam… I mean, they’re evil sons of bitches but I’m The Evil Son of Bitch. And if Dad knew…”
“He didn’t know Dean. And even if he did… even if he found out… he would’t care because you’re his son.” Sam sighed, letting go of the door when Dean had finished.
“It scares me Sam.”
And all Sam found he could do was nod in agreement because it scared the hell out of him too, especially with Dean admitting he was scared.
Ignoring the hesitation in Sam’s words when Dean stated firmly that he was going to grab a couple of bags of salt from the car, Dean now stood outside in the fresh air leaning against his black beauty. He fingered his keys in his pocket and looked up at the house, it was just a house, meant to be a safe haven but Dean hated it more and more the longer they stayed. He just couldn’t catch a break in that house… in that town… He’d have been quite happy to grab Sam and their bags and just drive off and leave the whole place behind and if he was lucky, the dreams and the demons too. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When had everything gotten so complicated?
He felt something softly nudge his leg and looked down to find the hellhound leaning against him, eyes glowing in the nightly atmosphere as it gazed up at him, “Hey there, you didn’t think I went and left you did you?”
Ripper tilted his head to the side and opened his mouth into a wide doggy grin in reply.
“Yeah well, if you’ve come looking for me it won’t be long before Sam does the same. You might wanna get in the house before I start putting down the salt lines.”
But Ripper waited patiently for Dean to gather the bags from the car first before plodding along back up to the house in front of his master.
The phone barely rang before Bobby answered and Sam was sighing in relief that Bobby sounded like Bobby and that he sound alright as well. His sigh turned into an exhausted - “Hey Bobby.”
“Sam, you okay?” Bobby asked immediately, voice tightening out of worry, Sam could just imagine the frown on his face, “You sound...”
“Like something’s up?” Sam finished.
A small gruff laugh that held no humour and then a reply, “Yeah, like something’s up. What is it?”
“We’ve… we’ve got ourselves into some deep deep… stuff.”
“You needing help?”
But Sam went on as if he hadn’t even heard Bobby’s offer, his mind racing to spill it out before something else happened, “Bobby… there’s some demons, I think they’ve already got to the Roadhouse. Ellen called… she just didn’t sound right. I think she could have been possessed. So I’m calling you to tell you to watch your back.”
“These demons… they know who we’re associated with besides… they already think we might be stopping at yours… Ellen implied as much.”
“But you’re both safe right?”
“Where’s Dean?” Sam smiled at the question, could hear the worry and tension behind it.
“Laying down some protection. Try and stop trouble getting in.”
“Just what type of trouble you in here?”
“Whole of hell type of trouble.”
“Really that big?”
Sam nodded, knowing that Bobby couldn’t see but hoping that the silence would be a good enough answer.
“You need a hand?”
“I couldn’t ask you for that. Besides… this has really gotten personal. God, Bobby… I don’t know what to do.”
“If you ain’t kidding ‘bout the size of this then you can’t do it by yourselves.”
“I know but this isn’t an ordinary gig. Just please – watch your back.”
“Sam, promise me you’ll look after yourselves and if you need my help you’ll call – no matter what.”
Sam took a shuddering breath and sighed again, thankful to have that offer of help there even if he didn’t intend on using it, “We will.”
“Good… and tell Dean to… tell him not to do anything stupid.”
“I’ll pass it on.”
And Sam hung up the phone, body too shaky to hold him up much more and forcing him to take a seat. He never even heard Dean come in, didn’t know how long he’d been standing listening. Though when he finally spoke up and Sam lifted his gaze to him, he guessed it hadn’t been long.
“Pass what on?”
“Bobby, he told me to tell you not to do anything stupid.” Sam smiled knowing that it was as good as telling an Englishman to quit being English or a penguin to stop being a penguin. Dean wasn’t stupid… just had a habit of acting rash.
“How did he sound?”
“Like Bobby.” Sam nodded in agreement with his statement, “Yeah, he sounded like Bobby.”
“Good.” Dean said after a moment, still standing by the doorway, Ripper lay on the floor behind him.
“He er… He wanted to help us. Told me if we need him that we had to call.”
“Figured as much.”
“Yeah…” Sam frowned for moment and looked in the direction of the kitchen before turning his gaze back to Dean, “Where’s Missouri?”
rayuk666 - August 24, 2007 01:38 AM (GMT)
Hey - I'm back and with another update!
Blood and Salt
Dean frowned, “Well she was in the kitchen when I was laying down the salt…”
“Missouri?” Sam called, making his way through to check.
“Come on boy.” Dean patted the side of his leg, motioning for Ripper to come as he followed his brother, idly stroking the dog behind its ear as it stood up.
“She’s not here…” Sam stated, worry passing through him as he looked around the empty room.
“Thank you Captain Obvious.” The elder hunter snarled as he entered behind Sam, moving over towards the stove where what could have been broth was boiling over the edges of a large pan. He quickly turned the hob off and span back round to look at Sam, “Where the hell is she?”
“Well ain’t that the million dollar question?” Sam sighed as he moved towards the back door, reaching for the handle he paused when he looked down, “Dean…?”
“What type of protection did you put down?”
Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother before moving over to where he now knelt, “Salt Sam. It’s what we always used.”
“Then what’s that?”
An undisturbed line of salt was laid at the backdoor, that was expected, but what wasn’t expected was the sticky red stuff splattered about on the surface. Dean pulled a face as he looked at it.
“That’s blood magic. Mixing salt and blood… that sort of stuff is meant to ward off the really nasty demons that could come knocking.”
“But Missouri wouldn’t do that… it binds the blood payer to the protection…” Sam started, “Any attacks against the border get the payer as well.”
“Yeah, I know… So what the hell is it doing here?” Dean prodded the salt softly, causing grains to shift and tumble but not break, “What are we meant to be keeping out?”
Sam stiffened and quickly stood up, eyes taking in the room once more, “What if whoever did this wasn’t trying to keep stuff out?”
Dean lifted his gaze to Sam and shook his head, “Sam, you’ve got to be joking. No one knows.”
“Ashlyn. She knows. Missouri has connections to hunters, what if Ashlyn does too?” Sam went on, “What if she thinks this will keep you in?”
“It won’t… will it?” Dean asked slowly.
“I don’t think it works on you…” Sam smiled and glanced at Ripper, “But your pet hellhound is keeping his distance.”
“What are we meant to do now? We can’t just leave… we need to made sure Missouri is okay.” Dean groaned, lifting a hand to rub the bridge of his nose, “As if we don’t have enough going on… now we gotta deal with hunters too?”
“Dean… we just need to think…”
“I wonder what the bounty is for the head of Satan… bet the sucker that brings me down’ll be worshipped…”
“Dean! Don’t say that.” Sam hissed.
“Why not? It’s true.” Dean growled and stood up, moving to lean forward against the sink so he could see out the window.
“I don’t like it. You’re not him… you just share the same soul or whatever. There’s a difference.”
“They won’t see it like that.”
Before Sam had a chance to reply, he saw a flash of movement from the corner of his eye, heard the sound of glass breaking and a cry of pain from his brother.
Dean lay groaning on the floor, left hand clinging to his upper right arm. Sam quickly dropped to the floor and scooted over to him, forcing the hand away to look at the wound. Blood oozed out and Sam almost laughed. It was just a scrape. Thank God. It missed. What had probably been intended to kill or at least seriously his brother had missed…
Ripper found his way to the wound, licking at the blood gently until Dean pushed him away playfully and found himself laughing, “You’re just determined to save me from bullets aren’t you?”
Sam smiled and thanked whoever needed thanking that at least the hellhound was quick enough to push Dean out of the way. He looked up at the crack in the window and then at the opposite wall where he could just make out the embedded bullet, “I guess that means we’ve got hunters out there then…”
“And they’re having a go at shooting fish in a barrel.”
“We need to get out of here. They wouldn’t hurt Missouri… once we get out we’ll find her.”
“They’ve probably got the place surrounded. What were we thinking? Coming here… staying here... God, that bitch! If I ever see her again I’m gonna kill that Ashlyn. I’m gonna string her up and murder her!” Dean ran a hand through his hair, thoughts running quickly through his head, shouldn’t have endangered Missouri, should have left.
Sam gripped his brothers arm, just below the wound, forcing his brother to look at him, “She’ll be fine Dean. We need to get out before they try and take another shot.”
Dean nodded and took a deep breath, watching as Ripper was already heading back out into the hall, obviously in agreement with Sam. As soon as they were out of the kitchen, Sam told Dean to stay put whilst he headed upstairs and grabbed their bags, quickly returning and shaking his head.
“I had a look out the windows but I can’t see anything. It’s just too dark.”
“So we don’t know how many there are, where they are, or pretty much anything except they have guns and want me dead.” Dean moaned, “How exactly are we meant to get out?”
“Just walk out the front door.” Sam said, pointing to Ripper who was pawing at the carpet just behind the salt line, “He seems to think so.”
“Walk out the front door? Amazing! Why didn’t I think of it sooner?” Dean snapped, grabbing a bag from Sam and throwing it over his shoulder. He saw Sam flinch and inwardly cursed himself for his sarcasm but he was so frustrated and Sam was the nearest thing to lash out at.
“Dean… please.” Sam begged, eyes hopeless and lost, staring into Dean’s, needing his big brother to just trust him so they could get out of danger, “We get out, we find Missouri. That’s the plan.”
“No…” Dean whispered, anger fading from his face as he pointed his finger at Sam, “We get out, we find Ashlyn who will tell us where Missouri is.”
“Fine.” Sam sighed, frowning as Dean turned away from him and began rifling through the hall table, “Dean, we get out, remember? What are you doing?”
“She should have an address book shouldn’t she? I mean she’s psychic but that doesn’t mean she can remember everything… just means she can read thoughts.” Dean lifted his hand in triumph as he held up a small leather bound book, “Right, we can go.”
After breaking the salt line for Ripper, the brothers made their way across the threshold and glanced around, eyes darting into the shadows. Nothing moved. Nothing glinted. And then Ripper set off at a run towards the Impala and Sam and Dean followed before they could even change their minds or wonder about how well thought out this plan actually was. But Ripper had warned them of danger before, had saved Dean from two bullets and he was insistent so they couldn’t not trust him.
Dean brought his keys out from his pocket and swiftly unlocked the doors to the Impala, opening the back door for Ripper. Just as he was about to climb into the driver seat he heard a rustle and a muffled shout, a shot rang loud and clear and Ripper barked loudly in warning, waking Dean from his daze.
“You okay?” Sam asked as his brother climbed into the car and started the engine.
“I’m great. People are shooting at me but I’m great.” He growled and floored the car as soon as it was ready, tyres screeching on the road surface as the car hurtled down the street and away from danger.
jinxed45 - August 24, 2007 06:03 AM (GMT)
uh oh whats going on? theyve got ellen, and now hunters are after them. i like ripper. :) great job please update soon.
JammasterJ - August 27, 2007 07:19 AM (GMT)
I know, I like Ripper too although it seems wrong to like a hellhound but I have always been a sucker for animals.
Bloody Ellen, you know I never trusted her from the moment I saw her...she just seems like shes up to something. Shes probably not even possessed :P
But I love Bobby, hes always so worried about the boys!
Love the story so hurry up and post more!!
rayuk666 - August 31, 2007 09:56 PM (GMT)
Hey!! Short update... I swear they just keep getting shorter. Hopefully more action in the next chapter :D
Jinxed45 - Thanks! I'm glad you like Ripper - people have taken to him a lot better than I thought they would (looks like I can't just suddenly kill him off then, lol as if I would)
JammasterJ - Again, thanks and I'm glad you like Ripper as well. Bless that little hellhound, he really isn't like a hellhound is he? But there's a reason for that and we're gonna see the evil side to him in a future chapter... but hopefully you'll still lve him. I love Bobby too so he's gonna have to play a bigger part :D
Well past midnight and the sky was a deep blue clouded by dark grey splotches with the occasional break where a twinkling star could just be seen. From behind the clouds, the half moon shone dimly leaving only the headlights from the sleek Impala to lighten the way. Two sets of weary eyes searched the surroundings outside the window while the hellhound slept peacefully on the backseat.
After getting away from the gunshots and from the streetlights and houses, Dean found himself just driving, vaguely remembering that their current direction would lead to the border of Lawrence within a matter of minutes. From there it would be country road until the next town sign rolled into view but they wouldn’t get that far.
Left hand securely on the wheel, barely even needing to turn, Dean’s right hand reached into his pocket for Missouri’s address book. Once free from his jacket, he handed the small book to Sam who shot him a questioning look as he took hold.
“And what do you expect me to do with this?” He asked indignantly, not even attempting to open it.
“Search for Ashlyn’s address… or phone number… anything that will give us a clue as to where she is.” Dean answered, using his now free hand to rub his temples, forcing sleep back. He managed to suppress a yawn, feeling that if he was tired than Sam would most definitely be wanting to visit dreamland as soon as possible.
“Dean… we need to rest, get ourselves together. We can’t just go barging into Ashlyn’s, if there are any hunters there then… we’d be screwed.” And the younger brother was off, angry at Dean’s eagerness to just dive headfirst into danger, “You can barely keep your eyes open. You drove us all the way here and whatever sleep you have managed to get since then has been disrupted by those dreams, you can’t just keep running on low.”
“I’m fine Sam.”
“Don’t give me that crap. You need to sleep. Take a hint from your damn hellhound; he’s completely out of it.”
Dean shot an irritated sidelong glance at his brother before smiling wryly, “I can’t sleep Sam.”
“Why not?” Annoyance flared up in Sam at his brother’s stubbornness and determination.
“No I won’t. You need sleep but you say you can’t… why not? ‘Cause we need to save Missouri? ‘Cause we need to keep moving? Why? Missouri… we’ll find her but we can’t do it like this and I can drive while you sleep.”
Dean groaned and went back to concentrating on the road, hands flexing on the wheel as he tried to relieve some tension before he blew up at Sam, “And what about you? When’s the last time you slept? It’s not like I haven’t had as little sleep before. So why don’t you sleep while I drive and quit bothering me? I’ll find out where Ashlyn lives myself.”
“Fine! I’ll look in your little book on one condition – you let me drive while you sleep.”
“I’ve already said I can’t. So just quit it already.”
Ripper stirred on the backseat, ears down as it looked up at the two bickering men. The youngest didn’t bother him but the eldest, his master… he knew his wrath and he knew it wasn’t pretty. When it came to his master being pissed, it was better to just get the hell out before things went really down south.
“Okay, so don’t sleep. And then when it comes to getting Missouri back you’ll be so goddamn knackered that you’ll get someone hurt… yourself, your hellhound, Missouri… me. Hell, you might even get someone killed.” Sam instantly regretted the words pouring from his mouth but he couldn’t seem to stop them, once he’d started they just came flowing. He bit his lip as he saw a flash of rage in his brother’s eyes. Below the belt… way below belt.
“You wanna know why I can’t sleep? You really wanna know Sam?” Dean shot, venom poisoning every part of Sam that his voice reached, “I’m terrified to fall asleep ‘cause I’ve no idea who I’ll wake up as.”
Sam swallowed thickly and cursed himself, remembering the conversation he’d shared with Dean back at Missouri’s after his last dream. Then there were those eyes, so wrong… “I’m sorry, I didn’t think…”
“It doesn’t matter. Just leave it.”
“No, Dean… I should have thought. I didn’t…”
Dean took a deep breath and shook his head, trying to keep his anger in check and his voice steady, “Enough of the chick flick Sammy. Just do what I asked you to. There’s a flashlight in the glove box.”
Sam froze, feeling physically sick and guilty; slowly he nodded and opened the small compartment, leaning forward to search through it. Unable to see anything in the dark he jabbed his finger on something small and sharp, probably something forgotten and broken, and resorted to using just one hand while he sucked at the tiny cut until he finally gripped hold of the small flashlight that would have been so handy five minutes ago.
“Hey, geek boy… you know you could have actually just used your phone.” Dean smiled, unable to contain the chuckle that escaped, “Would have been much easier.”
“And risk missing out on getting attacked by your car?” Sam hissed back, barely hiding the smile that threatened to appear on his features.
“Hey, you must have touched something you weren’t supposed to. She’s a lady after all.”
“And next you’ll be telling me that she’s some distant relation to Christine?”
“Nah, no way. My baby’s much better looking.” Dean laughed before narrowing his eyes and looking Sam up and down, “Although I’m better looking than you so maybe they are related.”
“In your dreams.” Sam muttered, finally opening the book and skimming the pages as he searched for Ashlyn. He sighed as he flicked over the pages, thankful that while the names in the little book were in no particular order, dotted about all over the place with plenty of blank pages here and there, Missouri’s writing as at least legible.
“Where we headed then Sammy?” Dean prompted, bored by the silence that had fallen between them. He glanced in the rear-view mirror quickly, catching sight of the hellhound resting its head against the backseat and looking out the back window, peaceful but alert.
Sam rolled his eyes but didn’t answer his brother; he was becoming frustrated as he neared the end of the small book and he had the feeling that Ashlyn’s name and address would be on the very last page. After another half a minute, Dean began making annoying noises from tapping his fingers to clicking his tongue and Sam smiled impatiently, “I’m looking Dean. It’s not like I’ve found it and I’m not telling you. I’m looking.”
Dean’s reply was somewhere between a grunt and a sigh, desperate for some direction, rather than just driving and not getting anywhere. He saw the sign coming up that would thank them for staying, ask them to come back, or any other type of stuff they put on town signs as you were leaving. Dean was now pretty much convinced that Lawrence and the Winchesters just didn’t get along and if possible, he would avoid it like a ghost avoided salt.
“Huh…” Sam mumbled, frowning as he read the page in front of him, “Missouri knows Bobby…”
“Missouri, she has Bobby’s number. I never knew…” Sam shrugged and as he turned onto the second from the page, his face lit up and he made a small cry of triumph, “Finally!”
“You go it?” Dean asked, leaning over to check the open page.
“Yeah, ‘bout fifteen miles north of Lawrence.”
“Then we’re headed the right direction.” And he stepped on the pedal just that little bit more, anger brewing inside of him as he thought of all the things he would just love to do to Ashlyn.
s_baum - September 1, 2007 09:51 PM (GMT)
AWESOME! last couple of updates. Amazing.
ladybug48 - September 2, 2007 12:38 AM (GMT)
Great update!! All that anger for Dean is not good!