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, Set after Jus in Bello
Woman in White
Member No.: 19,060
Joined: 15-April 07
Summary of what is to come: Dean is relieved after finding the Impala after it was suddenly stolen. But as the Winchester brothers and company embark on a new hunt, strange things start happening around the family car. Is Sam going mad? Or is the Impala out to get him? Winchester whumpage on both sides ahead!
I wanted to write and finish this before the next episode comes out in April
I hope I get it done though because I have so much work to do
I hope you enjoy the story! This is what I have so far:
"Sam, I swear if you don't shut up I will kick you out of this car."
It was a harsh comment, Dean would admit that inside his own mind, but he knew Sam would never take it to heart.
Sam huffed loudly; his head leant back against the car seat. "Dean, stop avoiding the situation. Just let me drive."
"Dude, I'm fine!" Dean insisted angrily, clenching his knuckles around the wheel, shuffling in his seat.
"You practically fell asleep at the wheel back there!" Sam argued back.
"No I didn't."
"Yes you did."
"You're just as tired as me, Sammy." Dean countered apathetically.
Sam mumbled, "That's not true..."
The decrease of volume in his voice made it obvious he was lying.
Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his face. His eyelids felt like weights and kept fluttering open and closed making his vision painful, and just holding his arms up to the steering wheel drained his entire body. It hurt to stay awake.
It was 10.30am on a Saturday morning, the Impala was making its way across the straight grey road, the early sun shined on its hood, resembling a beetle's shiny shell making a long merciless journey to their next hunt: reported demon sightings in the next town. The Winchester brothers were exhausted.
Although not too tired to bicker.
"Just one hour, I'll drive one hour Dean. Please." Sam pleaded; the only thing stopping his own eyes from closing was his concern for his older brother, willing himself to stay awake.
Dean drew in a breath, ready to rudely decline Sam's pleas when he noticed a small area of shops appear above the horizon. He squinted his tired eyes.
"No need, we're stopping here." Dean announced. Sam followed his line of vision.
"Motel...gas station." Sam spotted. "Sounds good to me."
"You need anything while I'm in there?" Dean asked, leaning into the car from outside.
Sam shook his head. "I don't think so. Can you hurry up though? This place is kind of," he hesitated, "eerie."
Dean raised an eyebrow and looked around. The area was deserted; any people there were hanging out inside the diners or shops.
"Tell you what, if you see a clown or midget, honk the horn." Before he could hear Sam's scoff he slammed the door and headed into the small shop to pay for the fuel.
Sam watched him go, shaking his head. He felt dizzy from the journey, but wasn't keen on winding down the windows. He was on edge enough by just keeping the doors unlocked. Taking one last look around, Sam realized that there was nothing to worry about. He saw fuel stops all the time, many shadier than this. He wound down the windows, coming to the conclusion that he was just being paranoid. Closing his eyes and settling further into the seat, Sam tried to rest.
That was until he heard the yelling.
A gunshot blasted through the air, leaving a shadow of an echo, and a screaming silence.
Dean's head snapped up at the terrifying sound, his fear pinched his stomach. The shop had been empty so at least there was no one he had to put up an innocent front to. Pulling out his gun, he cautiously made his way outside the shop.
The sound of screeching tires caught his attention, and the next thing he saw caused him to freeze in horror.
Driving away from him.
Dean’s legs came to life, running after the car hijackers, his brain not quite catching up, although he could vaguely hear his own voice, shaking as his body jolted about trying to chase the vehicle, “My car. My car. My car. My car.”
His brain began to function, anger coloured his thoughts as he sprinted after the speeding car. Dean’s car. Not their getaway drive!
He could make out several figures jumbling about inside, no doubt they had been responsible for the gunfire.
He almost tripped and fell on his face as he realized the most important thing he’d missed.
Gunfire…Sam. Where was Sam?
Had he been shot? Had he run straight past his brother who could have been injured or worse?
The fear squeezed at Dean’s heart, but his legs weren’t listening to the alarm bells going off in his mind. He couldn’t stop running even though the Impala was fast moving away.
Suddenly one of the doors was opening, and before Dean could even comprehend how or why, he saw Sam. He saw his brother.
Sam was pushed out of the moving vehicle.
The fear squeezing Dean’s chest engulfed his heart.
“Sam!” He roared, the impala completely forgotten.
The younger Winchester collided with the concrete, roughly rolling several times before coming to a prompt halt, his arms shot out to his sides on the impact. And then he was still.
Dean was at his brother’s side in the next couple of seconds, leaning over his spread eagled form, terrified. He took one final glance at the Impala, speeding into the distance before concentrating fully on Sam.
His brother’s head was tilted to one side, revealing a graze on his cheek and down his neck, bright with blood.
Dean sucked in a breath, seeing his brother broken on the ground shook him. He partly blamed himself; the place had been empty for a reason, dammit! He should have listened to Sam when he said he didn’t like the area. And to think, the last words he said to him were, ‘honk the horn’!
“Sammy?” Dean called softly, putting his hand on his shoulder. After no response, Dean drew both his hands to Sam’s torso and probed his body to check for injuries. Sam’s clothes had been ripped and worn from his collision with the road. As soon as his fingers touched his ribcage, Sam gasped and his eyes shot open, they were alive with fear. But alive.
“Sammy.” Dean said again, but more gruffly. He didn’t want to scare his brother by letting him know he was terrified by his brother’s sensitive reaction and pained face.
Sam was breathing heavily, his face twisting in pain at every breath. He tried to voice his pants and let Dean know what the hell just happened.
“Don’t speak.” Dean instructed quickly.
“The car…” He gasped apologetically.
“Just…shut up and lay still, I need to think.”
This was not good. They were still more than five miles away from the town, stuck in this dodgy stop with no ride, Sam was hurt and his baby had been stolen! Why the Impala?
Ah, the Impala, such a legendary vehicle. It was more than just transport. For Dean, it symbolized himself, so unique and good looking. He had practically lived in it, his memories of the many motels he stayed at were blurred but he remembered sitting in the back of the Impala when he was as young as four years old.
Dean was busy reminiscing about the day he was first given his baby when he was brought back to the troubling situation with a groan from Sam. He shuffled uncomfortably on the hard ground, slowly bringing his hands up to his injured face.
“Easy there.” Dean murmured, holding Sam’s arms. Before Sam could even protest a third party joined the scene
“Is he okay?”
Dean jumped, not even realizing that several people coming out of the diner had watched Sam being thrown out of the car. In the back of his selfish mind his dignity wobbled at the thought of everyone watching him leg it after his own car. His exasperation pushed it aside.
“What the hell happened?” He demanded angrily to no one in particular.
“A bunch of guys in the diner,” a witness started shakily, “they just suddenly took out these guns and took all the money everyone had in there.”
The restaurant owner piped up, “It looked pretty spur of the moment, seeing as they had to steal a car for a getaway vehicle.”
“What kind of maniacs go around carrying gun?” Someone from the crowd cried.
Dean curled his lip and exchanged glances with Sam.
“Look, is he alright?” The first person to speak said. A ripple of concern crossed the small crowd’s faces as they all turned their attention back to Sam, who wrinkled his nose and turned his head away, embarrassed.
“It doesn’t look like anything’s broken; if we’re lucky there are only bruises around the ribcage to look out for.” Dean said confidently, meaning to console his brother rather than the crowd.
Reassured there was no life threatening danger, the people who had approached the Winchesters seemed to back up and focus more on their own worries. A few got out phones to call for help.
Dean took his hands away from Sam and fished into his pocket; grabbing his cell phone he quickly dialed a number.
“I’m calling Bobby.” He grunted, holding the phone to his ear. Bobby Singer had himself been on his way to the same town as the brothers, they were going to investigate on the demon sightings together. It looked to be a dangerous hunt.
Sam nodded, still panting slightly. He was still shaken by what had just happened, the image of being pushed out of the speeding car flying through his mind. The fear made him sick, and the pain dancing on his ribs would ache every time he took in a breath. Sam closed his eyes, his head spinning. It felt like a merry go round was inside his head, even when his vision was black he could still feel the wooden horses circling his brain, taunting him.
Sam opened his eyes again at his brother’s sharp call. His eyes seemed a lot less focused than before.
“What’s wrong?” Dean’s eyes swiveled over Sam once more, searching for his discomfort.
“Back of… head.” While Dean’s adrenaline had shaken off any fatigue he had felt minutes before, Sam began to feel drained again, making it hard to even speak.
Dean carefully put his hands behind Sam’s head; he felt something drip onto his fingers.
“Dammit.” He whispered, bringing his hands to his eyes and found the tips of his fingers coated in blood.
Sam’s breathing hitched as he realized it was his own blood. He squeezed his eyes shut and silently begged the merry go round ride to stop.
“Sam!” Dean barked, keen to keep Sammy awake. “Don’t go freaking out on me! It’s just a small bit of blood, okay? I’ve had worse injuries than this and I’ve kept it together.”
Sam pried open his eyes at this, determined to stay awake.
“Come on.” Dean said more gently, kneeling over to Sam’s side and gripping his arm. “Bobby’s on his way.”
He slowly pulled Sam into a sitting position, and inspected the back of his head before making him stand. The red blood was evident between his dark, wavy hair. It must have been what knocked Sam out when he was thrown out of the car. Seeing as his brother was conscious, Dean concluded that the head injury wouldn’t make that much of a threatening impact on his life. Not that it wouldn’t hurt like a bitch.
Sam grunted as Dean helped heave him to his feet, his feet crossed over one another and he stumbled into Dean, luckily his older brother was prepared to support him, and slung his arm around his waist, taking the burden.
“Let’s get off the road.” He puffed.
They stumbled together to an old bench just by the car park.
It took only a little more than five minutes for Bobby to show up, but by then Sam was getting sleepy, his head nodding and lolling onto Dean’s shoulder. Dean would wrench it upright again and complain about how wimpy Sam was being, encouraging his brother to argue back so he would stay awake.
Bobby’s car pulled up on the side of the road, and Dean breathed a sigh of relief at the aid. Stepping out the car and slamming the door shut Bobby walked up to them, shaking his head at their spaced expressions.
“What trouble have you boys gotten into now?”
Dean shook his head, meaning he’d offer an explanation later. “Just help me get him into your truck. The police’ll be here any minute.”
“I can walk, Dean!” Sam snapped irritably. Dean rolled his eyes. If Sam was going to be stubborn it was his own problem. Of course under the circumstances of him being injured, Dean would just have to take his stubbornness with a pinch of shut-the-hell-up-with-your-moaning.
“Whatever.” Holding an arm under Sam’s armpit, he helped lift him to his feet. Letting Sam have some dignity, he let him walk alone to the car, but hovered close by.
Bobby walked behind him, muttering in his ear.
“Is your brother going to be okay? We could have a pretty big hunt ahead of us.”
Dean held open the door for Sam, ignoring his brother’s grumbling as he carefully got in, and slammed it shut. He turned to Bobby.
“Well he’s going to have to be. ‘Cos I’m going into that town no matter what, I’ll search night and day. I don't even need to sleep”
Bobby snorted. “You seem damn angry about finding these demons.”
Dean shook his head, and walked around to the other side of the car. He looked back at Bobby square in the eye. His face hard with determination, one eyebrow slightly raised.
“Demons later. First I’m going to go get my car back.”
The ride into town was a bumpy one for Sam, despite the smoothness of the road. Dean’s fury had finally caught up with him.
Nostrils flaring, Dean mercilessly ranted, swore and cursed for the robbers, condemning them to hell, describing how he would treat them once he got his hands on them. Because he would. No matter what.
Sam was tuning in and out, he didn’t know what was worse: Concentrating on the rage radiating from Dean, spreading around the car to Sam like smoke, or concentrating on the anxiety in his heart, the soreness of his ribs and the sting on his face and neck. He held a cloth to the back of his bleeding head but it was still pounding the pain around the rest of his brain, so in the end he couldn’t help but space out of Dean’s one way conversation about how he would get his revenge.
“…And then I’ll shove that up their asses and throw them out of a moving vehicle…”
“Dean,” He whispered. To Sam his brother’s voice was wavering like a radio prone to static. Bobby glanced at Sam through his rearview mirror, looking concerned.
“…I’ll let them think they’ve escaped, and then out of nowhere I’ll machete their face into a…”
Sam’s breathing became heavy, his vision becoming vague.
“…In a dungeon far, far away where no one can hear them…”
“Stop the car.” Sam gasped, but it went unheard under the loud rumble of the engine.
“…and scratch their eyes out!” Dean was exclaiming. “Scratch the- Sam?” He stopped mid rant when Sam suddenly punched the ceiling of the car.
“Stop the car.” He shrieked urgently.
Bobby pulled on the brakes, glad the road was virtually empty. Sam staggered out the door, then stumbled off the road and plunked himself down on the side of the road.
Dean slowly stepped out of the truck. He was keen to get moving to the town as quickly as possible, but judging from Sam’s frustration, he wasn’t going to be rushed. His anger towards the robbers was overshadowed once again by concern for his brother. A pang of guilt swept across Dean’s body, stopping him in his tracks. No wonder Sam wanted out of the car, he was probably pissed that Dean was more upset about the car being stolen than pushing him at the car.
The elder Winchester opened his mouth to offer his brother the most sincere and reassuring apology and pep talk when Sam leaned over and a horrible retching sound filled his ears. Dean’s eyes widened and he closed his mouth. Then he opened it again. Whatever crap he expected to come out of Sam’s mouth, he wasn’t quite prepared for it to literally happen.
Sam spat and coughed, breathing deeply. He began to sit up slowly, hoping his stomach was now still when Dean cautiously squatted down next to him. Sam wasn’t sure whether he was annoyed because he had been sick, that his injuries still stung or that he had flown out of the car quite unexpectedly that morning, all he knew was that he was annoyed. So he ignored his brother.
“Sam.” Dean poked his shoulder softly, matching his voice. Sam didn’t answer; he only looked on straight ahead, gulping in air. His eyes were frowning.
Dean couldn’t tell if it was because the sun was in his eyes or he was angry, so he took this time to inspect the back of Sam’s head.
“Bleedings stopped.” He commented, trying to sound upbeat. He paused, feeling slightly ashamed. Sam was hurt and instead of making sure he was alright, all Dean had cared about was the car! He looked over at Bobby, who was sitting in the car looking at Dean expectantly. Turning back to Sam he said very matter-of-factly,
“So, did you have him stop the car ‘cause you knew you’d be sick or are you just pissed at me?”
Sam turned his head to look at him, glaring. “What?”
Dean shrugged. “Come on, you think I don’t know you? I’m sorry if you’re upset-”
“I’m not upset!”
“-but not only has our ride, our home been stolen but it’s got all our stuff in it. Everything. And we need it back now.” Dean’s voice was hard.
Sam sighed. “I know.”
Dean stood up and held out a hand for him. “Then stop feeling sorry for yourself and let’s go get it back.”
“It’s not my fault I felt sick!” Sam huffed defensively, but took Dean’s outstretched hand.
Bobby shook his head as he watched the boys make it back to the car. They hadn’t even gotten into the town yet and it was already full of problems. This was going to be one tough gig. If there did happen to be demons inhabiting near by, getting rid of them would be tough without the Colt. Bobby had been told of how Dean and Sam managed to defeat thirty demons surrounding a building, and when they had all heard the rumours about the next town, they had agreed that if they were true then citizens were in danger. That couldn’t wait. Colt or no colt.
The rest of car ride into town was silent, albeit a little awkward. But Dean was thinking straight, and Sam was calming down.
Bobby took this moment to inform the boys of Jack O’Doherty; a hunter and a good friend of his. He trusted him, and Jack was waiting in the town for Bobby this moment.
“…His friend has his own small place here but he rarely lives in it as he’s mostly on the road hunting like you guys, so that means we’ll all be staying there while we investigate.”
Dean leant against the window. “It sounds a hell of a lot better than some cheap motel. Are you sure we can trust this guy though?”
Bobby nodded. “Undoubtedly. He worked with your dad a few times in the past. Hell he’s had my back a number of times.”
Dean was convinced. “You alright with that Sam?”
There was a pause.
His brother’s voice wavered from the backseat. “…Eh?”
Dean teasingly spoke slowly and purposefully. “Are. You. Alright. With. That?”
“Yeah.” And then a louder, “Yeah…”
Dean rolled his eyes, and leaned over to Bobby.
“Listen when we get to the town can we go back to this friend of your friend’s house?” He flicked his head to Sam. “I don’t think he’s up to scouting for our car.”
Bobby nodded. “No problem, Dean.”
Dean looked out the window thinking. He turned back to Bobby again.
“You know… just to be safe and all.”
“It’s okay Dean.”
The town looked fairly normal. As it was daytime and in the middle of the week, the roads weren’t busy, and only the elderly and parents with small children littered the paths.
Bobby pulled into a small house at the end of a suburban street. Dean stepped out the truck and inspected the overgrown lawn, and the long, ugly vines that swept across the front of the house. The white paint that first adorned the house was graying and cracked, and the windows were partly bordered up.
“So, er, Jack wasn’t kidding when he said his friend didn’t come here much.”
“Must be a bitch for the real estate agents to sell.” Bobby quipped over the roof of the car, walking round to open the door for Sam. “We’re here.”
“I know.” Sam said, slightly agitated. “I’m not a little kid Bobby.” He stepped out the car, the dizziness made him light headed but he was determined to at least make it to the front door by himself.
It took a while for Jack to answer. Dean heard several bolts being opened. The door opened a crack.
“That you Bobby?” The voice was rough.
The door was pushed fully open. There stood a man around the age of John Winchester, only to Dean he looked much older. His eyes were sunken and he held a weary tint in his eyes. Stubble lined his strong jaw and his graying hair was cut short.
“These the Winchesters?” He asked, nodding at Sam and Dean.
“No they’re demons. Let us in already, Sam here got hurt a while back.”
Jack stood aside for the men to walk in, he looked around briefly before closing the door again.
Yes, this town looked fairly normal, only these hunters were sure that underneath lurked something fairly supernatural.
Okay some people might think it's off to a slow start but I promise it will really start to take off
I'd love to hear what you all think! x
Woman in White
Member No.: 19,060
Joined: 15-April 07
Oopsy, I forgot I posted some of this fic on this site!
Here is some more for anyone who maybe just slightly interested
“Your car got stolen?” Jack said with raised eyebrows. “How?”
Dean scratched the back of his head. “Er, I’m still trying to understand that myself actually.” He stood opposite Jack leaning against the door frame and turned his head into the room where Sam lay on a bed. His arm was thrown over his eyes and his knees were bent inwards. Sam hadn’t moved from the spot since Jack showed him to the bedrooms, and Dean hadn’t moved more than eight feet away from his brother since then.
“Sam don’t go to sleep.” Dean called. Sam groaned but made no effort to move.
“His head injury,” Dean explained to Jack, “He was in the Impala at the time. Those son of a bitches threw him out while they were driving away.”
“Did he tell you anything more? What they looked like, what weapons they were carrying?”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to go troubling him. I’d know my car anywhere whoever the driver. And I don’t care if they’re dangerous, it’s not gonna stop me.” Dean’s words were dark, but his face carried a neutral, almost relaxed expression.
Jack gave him a long bored look, silent. Dean stood there for a second, and then his eyes swerved to his right, then left, as if looking for an excuse as to why the older man wasn’t responding. A minute passed and Jack shrugged and walked away. “As long as you come back in one piece, it’s none of my business.” Dean pulled a face, but Jack stopped suddenly, not facing him. “It’ll be alright if he sleeps for a little bit, I’ll wake him up now and again though just in case.” He said quietly.
Dean nodded, frowning at him slightly. “Yeah, okay…” he said slowly, “thanks.”
“You coming today, Dean?” Bobby yelled from the front door.
Dean shuffled past to meet Bobby. “We’ll be back later then.”
Being in Bobby’s car only reminded Dean the fact that he was without his, thus his anger had returned once more. But this time be had moved past the ranting and cursing, his fury was boiling internally like magma in a volcano, once he came face to face with the robbers, Dean would surely erupt.
He grunted again, his tone the same as before. The car was silent again for a minute.
“How d’you know Jack then?”
Bobby said, “I’ve known him for almost a decade now, but he’s constantly traveling all over the country I’ve not seen him as many times over the years as I’d have liked.”
Dean pouted. “He’s weird.”
Bobby frowned and chuckled at the same time. “Nah.”
“He’s…” Dean trailed off, unsure of what it was exactly that Jack did that creeped him out. Perhaps it was his gloomy, even haunted expression that he constantly held, or how long it took for him to respond in conversation. Or maybe it was the strange way he’d look at Sam…
“Hey, what’s going on over there?” Bobby nodded his head to an empty street except for a young man stumbled out of an alley and tripped to the floor, a look of pure terror twisted in his face. Dean sat up watching as the man threw his head round his shoulder looking behind him. The man reminded him of a lost animal running from its predator.
“I don’t know. Maybe we should just carry on.” Unfortunately the young man had noticed Bobby’s truck, and with that being one of the few and closest cars on the road he had sprinted up to them, waving his arms about madly.
Dean sighed, stepping out the car. He wanted to find his car, dammit!
“What’s wrong?” He said, his annoyance not evident in his voice.
The man looked to be around Sam’s age -maybe younger- but his beard and his now loosely fitted baseball cap he was wearing made him appear older.
“M-my friend’s being attacked.” He said breathlessly, his voice high pitched with fear.
Dean put a hand on his shoulder, Bobby appearing by his side.
“Okay, calm down. Do you know who did it? Do you know where he is?”
The young man leaned over, hands resting above his knees as he sucked in air. “…Car.” He managed to get out in a shaky voice, looking up at Dean with apologetic eyes.
“Okay,” said Bobby, “what does your car look like?”
The stranger’s voice stumbled. “Er, erm. I-It’s a black chevy, one of those really old ones. Hard to miss.”
Dean’s eyes widened then narrowed considerably. He looked at the ground, his voice low.
“Crap.” Bobby muttered.
“Y-yeah.” Before the young man could even take another breath, he was slammed violently against the brick wall behind him, Dean holding onto the front of his shirt, their faces inches apart.
“You bastard!” Dean growled through gritted teeth.
The man grew alarmed, twisting and squirming under Dean’s death glare and strong hold to no avail.
“What the hell?” He yelped. “What the hell?”
“Is that why you stole my car then? Because it was hard to miss among all the other vehicles?” Dean snarled, pushing the him further into the wall.
Realizing who Dean was, the robber’s movements stopped in surprise.
“Oh God…” He whispered, and understanding Dean’s rage, he began struggle under Dean’s grasp again only now more desperately. He had run away from his predator only to fall prey to another enemy.
“Did it matter at all that there was still in a passenger in your getaway drive?” Dean spat.
The man was terrified, unable to even try and defend himself.”
“Did you throw my brother out of a moving car you son of a bitch?” Dean roared. He drew back his hand, it curled into a fist and Dean was ready to slam it straight into this punk’s teeth when Bobby grasped his shoulder, holding it back.
“Dean, not here. Not in broad daylight.” He warned, scanning the area.
An ear piercing scream came from deep within the alley. Dean and Bobby glanced at each other. The person being attacked was without little doubt the other robber, but whether he was being attacked by a human had a lot of doubt. Dean reminded himself about the possible demons. Crook or not, he would save anyone from anything supernatural.
Dean threw the now whimpering man to the floor harshly, and he and Bobby ran into the alley.
The alley was shadowed by the tall buildings towering above it, but a person clad in dark, ripped clothes writhing on the floor, screeching. Dean and Bobby flanked him, grabbing his arms trying to pull him up, but the man flopped and continued to holler, unaware of their presence.
“Get up, get up you bastard!” Dean grunted through gritted teeth, shaking his arm. He looked much gruffer than the other one, despite his current state. A lot more like a person who would push someone out of a car…
Bobby dropped him. “Dean…Dean he’s passed out.”
“Dammit!” Dean let go of the man. “How am I supposed to get my revenge on such a loser?”
Bobby shook his head. “I don’t know Dean, something’s not right. His friend said he was being attacked, and he sure as hell looks traumatized. But this place is deserted. Not to mention a dead end.” He gestured to the darkness ahead of them, but as both men took their eyes off the unconscious robber to the end of the alley, they both froze.
Next to a grimy dumpster, parked in the corner was the Impala, lingering in the darkness of the shadows, its curves shining over the sheet of darkness covering the car. It resembled a crouching monster, hiding in the darkness, ready to jump out suddenly.
Bobby chuckled lightly as Dean galloped towards the car, it's fierce presence a joy to him. Bobby watched him muttering to himself, placing his hands gingerly on it in case it might disappear under his touch. He moved around it, probing ever spot of the car that wasn’t against the wall.
Bobby cleared his throat and Dean turned to him, his hands out to his sides as if about to shrug.
“It’s fine.” He said blankly. There was a pause. Then his eyes widened. “Wait!”
He opened the door, Bobby heard him give a gleeful cheer as he hopped in, lumbering from each seat in the car. His head would disappear occasionally from Bobby’s sight to inspect the floor. Eventually he ended up back in the driver’s seat. Winding down the window and poking his head out the window he yelled to Bobby,
“Everything’s how it was!” His face was in complete awe.
Bobby shrugged. “Well, good!” He shouted back.
For the first time since seeing him, Dean’s face broke into a large grin.
The robber on the ground groaned and began to stir.
Dean’s grin took on a darker colour.
“Hey Bobby. Move out the way.”
"Dean, he looks hurt."
"Please? Just get in your truck, please?" Dean sounded like a child pleading to a parent for toys or sweets.
Bobby shook his head; he could see where this was going.
The young man from before was still standing outside the alley, too scared to look around and see what was going on. What had happened in that alley had terrified him. Then he froze as he heard it. That deep rumble, that low growl. His heart dropped in his chest from the fear that gripped him. He was at the end of the street, alone. No one could save him from this monster.
Without warning, the other robber bounded out of the alley, smacking into his companion.
The young man backed.
The older man pushed him back further. “Run!”
The growl of the Impala turned into a roar and over his shoulder he saw the car turn around the corner. The driver was bellowing, but his face showed he was thrilled. The vehicle did not slow down at the sight of them.
Letting out petrified wails, the two robbers broke into a sprint, bounding down the street as the Impala followed with one side of the car on the pavements, closing in to them. They turned around the corner, arms flailing with their faces full of horror.
As they stumbled round the corner, faces shining with sweat, the two men noticed this street was most certainly not empty, and a few passerby’s were looking at them with raised eyebrows. They glanced at each other, and then fearfully looked over their shoulders.
A quiet Chevy turned the corner onto the road, driving slowly and almost timidly. The rumble of the engine had turned from a fierce growl to a soft purr. Just behind it a truck followed, the driver wearing a ball cap. No signs of danger were evident around the two vehicles.
Dean laughed to himself as the robbers looked at him questioningly. He had made them run for their lives, perhaps that was enough. He shook his head, he couldn’t resist. He reached over to the passenger seat, and held up a grey bag he had found there, holding it up to the robbers as he calmly drove past. He watched their confused faces twist into horror as they realized the hundreds of dollars they had stolen were in Dean’s hand.
Dean whooped, turning on the radio. His victory would last him the ride home. Once he got back, it was back to concentrating on Sam.
Sam was called back into consiousness. He turned his head, squinting his eyes open, reluctant to be brought back to reality. Not that sleeping was pleasant. Even now he was still plauged with dreams of Henricksen and a burning police station. The cries of the innocent pulled him further into despair untill he was whisked away from his dreams by his brother waking him up in the morning. Only today he was awakened by someone close to a stranger, and so reality wasn't something he was looking forward to.
Nausea still threatened Sam, but the pains in the back of his head was beginning to dull and the sharp stings from his other injuries weren't as noticeable since Jack gave him some painkillers. At the time he had considered refusing them, still cautious of the hunter. But his painful injuries eventually nagged him to just swallow the damn pills.
Jack leant against the doorway, watching Sam slowly sit up. "You should stay awake now."
Sam grunted in agreement.
Jack entered the room, he was sharpening a small daggar. Sam looked up at him carefully, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes.
"You want something?"
He replied, "You the older or younger brother?" His voice was without curiosity, suggesting small talk.
Sam leant back on his hands, his eyes watching Jack's swift and sharp movements going up and down the knife. "Younger."
"Thought so." Jack muttered.
Sam cocked his head to one side. "...Do you have any er, siblings?"
Jack ingored his question. "You been hunting with your brother long?"
"Him, my dad and I hunted together when I was a teenager. We've only worked together for roughly three years now." Sam took another breathe to ask Jack a question, when he was cut off by a blunt question coated in a casual voice.
"So which would you say was the better hunter?"
Sam drew his knees up, feeling uncomfortable. "I don't know, we're about the same I guess."
"So neither of you is better than the other? Even by just a bit?" The sharpening on the daggar grew faster, more hurried.
Sam grew annoyed. "This is none of your business." He said, making it clear the discussion was over.
Jack sighed. "Suit yourself." He sharpened his knife now in slow, long movements as he stood up. As he was leaving the room, not turning around to Sam he said, "Just don't assume that just because you're younger your brother's always going to be stronger, always going to be looking out for you."
He walked out the door, leaving Sam frustrated and provoked by the older man's ignorance. Since when did he know about how his and Dean's relationship worked? He stood up swiftly, bouncing lightly on the spot, deciding between following Jack or going back to sleep when a familiar engine roll met his ears.
Dean slammed the door shut, seeing Sam step out the house, his face filled with disbelief.
“How the hell did you-“
“Have you been resting at all since I was gone?” Dean asked, noticing Sam had a lot more energy since he last saw him.
“I’m fine.” Sam said. Dean raised his eyebrows. “I’ll be fine.” He corrected himself.
Dean nodded, relieved. “Yeah, whatever.” He lifted up the grey bag, showing it to his brother.
“The money those bitches stole.” Dean grinned.
Dean waited. Bobby stepped out the truck; walking past Sam he patted him gently on the shoulder.
“We’re keeping it, by the way.” Dean added.
“Yeah, I figured.” Sam said.
Bobby walked into the house, leaving the door ajar. Dean waited some more.
“Well,” Sam started, “I don’t know how you did it but it’s great to have the Impala back.”
“What?” Dean said suddenly, annoyed.
Sam looked confused. “…What?”
“So no lecture?”
“What?” He repeated.
“Well the Sam I know would have gone crazy over the ethical and moral issues or whatever over this money by now.” Dean said with raised eyebrows.
Sam began to grow annoyed too. “So, what? You’d rather I argued with you?”
“No man that’s not it. I just, I thought you’d be a bit more concerned about all those people who are going to miss this money that’s all.”
Sam wrinkled his nose. “I don’t care.” He shrugged carelessly.
Dean’s raised eyebrows lowered into a frown. This was not like his brother.
“What?” Said Sam again, the annoyance now evident in his raised voice.
“Forget it.” Dean said, any traces of confusion or anger towards Sam had disappeared. He walked past him and said over his shoulder, “I’m gonna crash for a while. I haven’t slept for ages.”
“Okay…” Sam mumbled. At hindsight, he was starting to realize why Dean had grown concerned. He was right; if it had been a year ago he would have caused an argument about keeping the money, instead of nearly causing an argument about not arguing against it.
Sighing, Sam leant his hand on the roof of the Impala.
“At least it’s good to have you back.” He muttered. He sighed again; he really was turning into Dean! Talking to cars and all…
Sam blinked. That voice in his head had definitely not belonged to his conscience.
Get your hands off me.
Sam’s eyes widened, he looked around and over his shoulder. The voice came from inside his head but seemed to echo around him at the same time.
Don’t touch me, you filthy little-
Sam took his hand off the Impala, whirling around, and the voice disappeared. It slowly dawned on him…
“What the…?” Touching the Impala lightly, he heard the voice again.
I’m going to get you.
“I’m going to get you…” A deep male, voice filled with spite threatened the young man.
Sam Winchester stood frozen in time, his eyes were wide and horrified, but his lips were tweaked slightly upwards in amusement at a possible joke, ending in a rather spaced expression.
Of all the vampires, wendigos, spirits, demons Sam had encountered over the years, none had ever told him that they were, ‘going to get him’. And of all the times Sam had sat, slept, ate and complained in the Impala, it had never told him that he was, ‘going to get him’. His confusion and disbelief at what had just happened held him in his position, his hand still flat on the roof of the car.
It talked! The Impala had talked!
I’m going to get you. The creepy voice said again. Sam’s hand flew off the Impala as if scolded, watching it warily.
It held in its parked spot.
Sam shook his head, putting a hand to his forehead. He was going insane! He looked back at the house, and then craned his neck over his shoulder. No one was nearby, and Bobby, Dean and Jack were still inside the house. Sam had to be certain this was his imagination…
“Who is that?” He said softly, looking at the car. He was answered with silence. Sam hesitated, his arm wavering out in front of him. He slapped it on the hood of the Impala. The voice returned louder than ever, its malevolent speech piercing into Sam’s soul as he heard it speaking again.
…of a God, you are dead. Are you listening to me? I’m going to feel you under my wheels; your blood will spatter against the glass.
“Er, are you going to be doing that any time soon?” Sam asked incredulously, the car was still settled neatly in the driveway, engine off.
He was met with silence again, despite the fact that his hand was still placed on the strange car.
“What do you want?” Sam tried. This time he was given an immediate answer.
Leave me and Dean alone.
A surge of fear struck through Sam’s chest.
“You leave my brother alone.” He said threateningly.
The voice chuckled wickedly, Oooh, What you gonna do? Salt and burn me? Exorcise me? Do you really think Dean will let you near me with harmful intentions?
“You stay away from Dean; I don’t care if I have to push you off a damn cliff.”Sam hissed.
But Dean will.
What the hell was going on? Sam had heard of spirits possessing cars, but not in such a way before… Why would a spirit talk as if it was the car itself? Why was it bothering to interact with him? Sam said nothing, glaring at the Impala.
You know it’s true. Dean was going to give me to you when his time is finally up. How do you think he’ll feel when you try and destroy me after he finally trusts you with me?
Sam’s eyes widened.
“How did you know that?”
I’m going to get you.
“Shut up!” Said Sam, exasperated.
No, you shut up.
Sam made a noise between a laugh and a cry. He couldn’t believe he was arguing with the Impala. Who would have thought it would have such a twisted yet childish attitude?
Leave Dean alone, It whispered. Or else I’m going to get you.
“Stop it.” Sam raised his voice, his hand gripped on the shiny surface of the old vehicle.
I’m going to ram you into a wall, push you into those bricks and squish your bones and guts.
“You freak!” Sam yelled, disgusted. His hand fell away from the car.
Sam spun around, Bobby stood by the front door, watching Sam with concern. Sam stared back, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the candy jar.
“Who were you talking to?”
“I-“ Sam stuttered, his mind racing for excuses, but any sense he had made since he woke up had left with the taunting voice.
Bobby shook his head at the youngest Winchester, no longer wanting an explanation after looking into Sam’s distressed eyes.
“Just get back inside; we need to talk over tomorrow.” He flicked his head towards the house, Sam nodded, opening and closing his mouth as if trying to remember how to speak. He stood rooted to the spot.
“Well come on then!” Bobby complained. Sam jumped into action, swiftly walking back inside with his eyes cast downwards.
“Okay, recently there have been several deaths in the town. The police have no links between them, except that every victim was killed on the night they went to a certain bar, The Mayflower. What’s stranger as that is the night they were killed was the first time for them stepping into that bar. All of the regulars have been safe so far.”
Bobby, Sam and Dean sat in a circle around Jack, each bringing out their own habits as he talked. Dean was pouting in thought, one eye brow raised slightly. Sam was giving little continuous nods, and although Jack was sure he was paying attention, Bobby showed a rather blank expression.
“So the plan is that tonight, we go to the Mayflower.” Jack concluded.
Dean’s eyebrows rose to meet the other. “Is that a good idea? Exposing ourselves like that?”
“It’s better than letting anymore innocent people get hurt.”
“What do you mean?” Asked Sam.
“That place has attracted a lot of attention, especially with the media. Since the second victim’s death that place has had many newcomers flocking there each week to check out this ‘haunted’ bar. If we’re there to attract attention to ourselves whatever it is that’s doing this will most likely come to us.”
Sam’s nodding morphed into shaking his head from side to side in disappointment. “I’d thought people would most likely stay away. What kind of world is this when people treat murder so light heartedly?”
Bobby snorted. “Boy you sound older than me.”
“Yeah and it’s been a while since you’ve been so concerned about human welfare.” Dean cut in.
Sam’s jaw dropped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Dean’s eyes flickered over Sam for a second, and for just that second Sam saw both resentment and regret. And what scared him the most, secrecy.
“What makes you so sure this is something supernatural?” Bobby started, feeling the tense atmosphere between the brothers.
“Several reasons. The deaths are nasty, freak accidents. I don’t want to get into the messy details, the least gory one was one guy from Seattle. Was found sprawled on the church roof, every single bone in his body snapped. If it was a serial killer they wouldn’t be acting alone, and the police don’t have a clue who could have done this and why, all the victims had relatively carefree lives. Not to mention the town has never seen anything like this before.” Jack answered him, his voice raised slightly to grab the attention of the boys.
Dean swiftly stood up. “Alright then. We’ll leave later tonight.” He left the room, with Sam wordlessly following his brother.
Bobby exchanged glances with Jack. “I’m sorry about those guys; I’ll give their asses a good kicking later for being so rude.”
Jack shrugged and shook his head. “Don’t do that. I’ve worked with worse. I don’t care if they’re rude, if half the stuff I’ve heard about these guys are true, I can deal with whatever crap they pull.” He and Bobby stood up.
“That’s not to say I won’t give them crap back.”
Bobby corrected him, “’That’s not to say you haven’t given them crap back.’”
“What’s that now?”
Bobby adjusted his cap and sighed. “Just, please stop scaring away every hunter I bring you.”
Jack let out a low gravely laugh. Bobby supposed he must have taken it as a compliment.
Okay so who is freaked out by Jack so far? *raises hand* I've created a monster! mwahahaha...(MAY BE EXAGERATING JUST A TINY WEE BIT)
If you have reached this far to the bottom of the page, thank you ever so much!!!
Woman in White
Member No.: 19,060
Joined: 15-April 07
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So much! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
I'm sorry I haven't updated for a while
Here is more!
Sam cupped the water in his hands and splashed his face, and he released a long, heartfelt breath. His hands gripped the sink as he leaned over the running tap. Looking up into the mirror he studied his face. Drops of water trickled down his cheeks, one side of his face still grazed from his previous meeting with the road, the water stinging the injury. The memory quickly brought the Impala back to Sam’s mind; he had been thinking about it a lot.
And finally he had come to the conclusion that maybe he should tell Dean. Or maybe he shouldn’t tell Dean. Actually, he hadn’t quite come to a conclusion yet.
He stood in the small bathroom, crammed in between the facilities, thinking over what the Impala had ‘said’.
Leave me and Dean alone.
Leave me and Dean alone.
Leave me and Dean alone.
Sam shuddered, scaring himself. He found himself stumbling out of the bathroom to find Dean sprawled over one of the beds, his head face down just missing the pillow.
“Dean are you okay?”
Dean didn’t bother to answer, instead exhaled strongly through his nose to show Sam he was awake.
Sam remembered how tired they had both been this morning. Sam had slept quite easily due to the pain killers for his ribs making him drowsy, but when Dean had gone to rest his younger brother couldn’t help but notice how little he slept. Was he worrying about something? Or just over tired?
“You shouldn’t come out tonight if you’re still exhausted.” Sam said, sitting down on the other bed opposite Dean.
This time Dean answered. “Shut up Sam.” He muttered softly.
Sam rolled his eyes.
“Take a sleeping pill.” He suggested.
“I’m not arguing when you’re like this.”
“Like what?” I’m fine!” Dean’s voice was still mumbled but it held a tone of annoyance.
“You need to sleep!” Sam snapped back.
Dean turned his head to face Sam, his eyes were half closed but they still held an authorizing glare. “Well I’m not gonna get any with you yapping now am I?”
Sam huffed and swung his legs over the bed, and dropped onto his back to face the ceiling. The only thing stopping him storming out of the room dramatically was the knowledge that Jack was on the other side of the door.
The sun was peeking over the horizon, making its last appearance for the day. With it, it had taken the light, and it had taken the peaceful babble of the daytime. Although the Winchester brothers could be partly responsible for that.
“God damn it Sam, get in the car!”
Sam and Dean stood on either side of the car,not taking their eyes offeach other. They had been standing in those positions for ten minutes. Both gripped the car stubbornly.
Bobby approached Dean warily. “Dean, keep it down.”
“Make him get in the car!” Dean’s anger twisted into a plea as he turned to Bobby for help, he didn’t understand it dammit!
Sam’s stomach turned with guilt, but what kept him from entering the Impala was the voice filling his ears, as his arm was placed stiffly on the roof of the vehicle. And he had stayed there frozen in fear since five minutes ago when he had warily touched the car.
Yeah Sam, get in. I dare you.
Jack stood in the background, leaning against Bobby’s car and glowering at Sam as he waited impatiently. Bobby then attempted to approach Sam.
“Look Sam, if you’re not going to tell us why then maybe you should just…” He eyed the car, silently analyzing to try and understand what was wrong with it.
Sam shook his head. “No.”
“God dammit!” Dean repeated for the3rd time, taking a few steps away from the car only to storm back again. “Look, is this about you getting pushed out of it earlier? Nothing like that’s going to happen again.” Dean reassured him, his voice growing more sympathetic. There was a brief silence as he watched Sam’s face, trying to find an answer.
“I…” But Sam couldn’t bring himself to lie. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything. All he could hear was the voice of the Impala, and keeping his hand off the car only made him imagine what it could be saying.
You’re a selfish. You know that, Sam? You need to be punished.
Sam lowered his head. “I don’t know what I’ve done.”
“What?” Dean’s irritation was rapidly turning to concern.
What you’ve done? You ruin everything! I hate you! Dean should hate you!
“Don’t…” Sam warned, clenching his teeth.
I’ll make him hate you.
“Sam answer me!” All fury that had taken hold of Dean had gone. All he wanted now was for Sam to answer him.
If I run my wheels over your big head, do you think a load of crap will spill out your eyes and ears?
“Shut up!” Sam roared, letting go off the car he balled his fists as his rage echoed through the town. Branches on a tree nearby swayed furiously as the birds occupying it flew away from the suspected danger.
Dean’s eyes widened, and he backed away. He hadn’t wanted Sam to answer him like that.
Bobby stood still, his shoulders hunched from the intensity in Sam’s bellow. He was on his toes however; ready to step in if things got physical.
An awkward hush swept over the scene, Sam and Dean exchanged looks of disbelief. Sam saw the hurt in Dean’s eyes, and Sam reflected guilt and regret.
“Dean, I didn’t mean,” Sam gabbled, “I mean, I was talking to the…”
Dean’s face turned to stone. Without another word he wrenched open the car door, slipped in, and slammed it shut.
Sam stood rooted to the spot, unable to explain himself.
Somewhere in the neighborhood a dog barked.
“So these are the great Winchester brothers then.” Jack concluded the messy situation with the aggravating comment.
“Don’t.” Bobby growled at him. And he didn’t.
Sam turned to Bobby, he gave him an apologetic look.
“Bobby, I didn’t mean…”
“You really must have hit your head back there, son.” Bobby muttered. Sam stared at his feet, if he attempted to tell on the Impala now, there was no way anyone would believe him.
Bobby sighed. “You’ll take the ride to the Mayflower with me and Jack then.” It was a statement. Not a question.
The Impala’s engine roaring to life had Sam jump into action.
“Okay.” He said quickly, moving over to Bobby’s truck.
The journey had been in absolute silence, but Sam’s mind had been debating and arguing with every opinion he could muster up from his head. It was definitely decided, for sure this time.
He would tell Dean.
The sky was a dark blue. Lights from the town shone bright, but meekly adorned the never ending stretch of the night sky.
Several car doors slammed shut at the beginning of a street, and at the other end of the road stood the town’s most famous feature, the Mayflower. It took up the entire corner, standing taller than the shops surrounding it.
The four hunters approached it, and stopped outside the double doors. The windows were bordered and outlined; they stood out like piercing eyes. Music and chatter from inside was softly emitting from the building.
Bobby turned to the other three. “Alright, let’s go.”
Inside the noise was excruciatingly loud. It was crowded, but this crowd wasn’t like the usual mesh of faceless nobodies. The bar was filled with all sorts of characters: The old, the young, the moody, the loud, and the colours! The goth-like young adults huddled in a corner presented their misery at the world with their white skin and blue and black hair, contrasting with the flirty aging drunks flaunting their happy-go-lucky personalities with bright blonde highlights, red clothes and flashing jewelry. From what Dean saw, everyone else between the two ends of the spectrum also seemed to be here.
“Man, you weren’t kidding about the crowds.” Dean commented to Jack.
Jack slowly turned his face to him, but he didn’t botheranswer as he stared at the elder Winchester.
Dean raised his eye brows, and turned away muttering, “Okay…”
Elbowing his way through the people, Dean made it to the counter of the bar. While he waited for assistance, Bobby stood by his side.
“What the hell’s gotten into Sam?” He muttered. The younger Winchester had gone to find seats with Jack.
“I have no idea.” Dean grumbled back.
“Dean, I heard him talking to himself earlier, calling himself a freak.”
Dean looked at Bobby, slightly alarmed. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, when you first got the car back.”
Dean turned back. “Well, he’s done stranger things.”
They stood silent for a minute.
“You remember what I said to you? A while ago? About Sam, and how maybe something’s wrong with him…”
Bobby shook his head. “Dean, you can’t think about this right now. We need to keep alert for anything supernatural.”
There was another minute of silence. The world around them continued to buzz, it was a care free environment next to the troubles of Dean Winchester.
“You still sure there’s nothing wrong with him?” He said.
Bobby didn’t answer.
A group of large men next to the hunters roared with laughter at joke, one of them stepped back into Dean, elbowing him.
“Hey, back off!” Dean exclaimed angrily, pushing the man back rather harshly.
The stranger’s amused face quickly turned to a scowl. “You back off!” He said, pushing him back.
Dean gave him another shove, this time the man stumbled back into his friends.
“Dean!” Bobby pulled him to the side and stepped between him and the other man before anymore harm could be done. A friend of the man did the same, and gently pulled him back.
Dean glared at Ian, who stared back with hard blue eyes, and his dark brown hair was slightly disarrayed from the scuffle. Most of the people in the bar were watching them, even the people on the opposite side of the room were craning their necks, hoping to see a fight. However both men simultaneously turned away from each other.
“I’m out of here, it’s getting too crowded.” Ian muttered, shouldering past anyone in his way and out of the door.
His friends all glowered suspiciously at Dean before turning back to their own business.
Dean rolled his eyes. “I didn’t make him leave!”
Bobby nudged Dean. “Snap out of it, Dean. You can’t just take your troubles out on other people.”
Dean was about to give him several reasons why he could when Jack and Sam appeared suddenly by his side.
“We need to go.” Jack said abruptly.
“Because I’m pretty sure that if any demons here have seen that, either they’re going to go after you or that guy.”
Dean, Bobby and Jack strode out the bar, all going separate ways to try and catch a glimpse of Ian.
“I don’t see him anywhere.”
Sam came jogging out the pub. “His friends say he drives a silver ford focus.”
Dean wrinkled his nose. “Man that’s an ugly car.”
Sam rolled his eyes.
“Well let’s get moving.” Jack said, turning around and walking to Bobby’s truck.
Bobby turned to Sam. “You go with your brother this time.”
Sam opened his mouth to argue but Bobby held up a hand.
“He can’t be on his own, not when he could be in danger.”
Sam looked at Bobby’s determined face, and then to Dean who was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking around as if trying to pretend he couldn’t hear to the conversation.
Sam hesitated, but realizing Dean could be in danger, he slowly nodded his head. Bobby breathed a sigh of relief, thankful there wasn’t to be another argument.
“Alright, you boys be careful.”
The Impala was so familiar to Sam; it had been in his life since before he could walk. But never had he felt so unfamiliar sitting in the passenger seat. Never before had he felt so uncertain and unsafe in the Impala. It hadn’t said anything to him yet, but that only worried him more. Perhaps the time for talking was over? Maybe the car was going to take action…
It wasn’t often that Sam got carsick, but right now he feared if he spoke he would hurl.
“Um. Y-yeah?” He said hoarsely.
Dean looked straight ahead, and asked in a casual manner, “Why are you scared?”
“I’m not.” Sam replied insistently.
“Then how come you’re holding onto the window like such a wuss?”
Sam paused. “Maybe because I’m clingy?”
Dean rolled his eyes, and glanced at Sam. “Yeah. You are. Seriously, though.”
The roads were unusually quiet; all that could be heard was the engine of the Impala.
“Talk to me.”
Sam pressed his lips together, and stared hard at Dean.
Dean did a double take when he noticed Sam’s thoughtful gaze.
Sam sat up, fidgeting in his chair. He took a deep breathe.
“Okay,” he started, “remember after we argued about that money earlier, and you went inside and I stayed outside for a bit?”
“Yeah.” Said Dean slowly.
“Well, something weird happened. And I’m not sure whether you’ll believe me or not.” He hesitated, but Dean didn’t say anything to interrupt. “God this is stupid.” Sam breathed, covering his eyes and feeling embarrassed.
“Just tell me, Sammy.” He heard Dean say softly.
“The Impala. It-“
Suddenly, the car lurched to the left, crossing into the other lane. The Winchester brothers shifted roughly in the car as the tires screamed, their eyes wide with shock.
“’The hell?” Dean exclaimed, looking into the rearview mirror.
Sam also turned around anxiously. “Nothing even hit us!”
Dean frowned, feeling on edge. “Well something must have caused that.”
“Yeah,” said Sam, “the car.”
Dean frowned again. “Whose car?”
Dean bunched his shoulders defensively. “Sam, nothing’s wrong with the car!”
Sam sat sideways, facing Dean determinedly. “No, nothing’s wrong with the engine. Dean, I think the car’s possessed by something.”
Dean frowned. “What?”
“I could hear it talking to me! That’s why I was acting so weird earlier.” Sam explained hurriedly.
“I don’t know, Sam. Are you sure?” Disbelief was evident in Dean’s voice.
“Yes! You have to believe me! That’s why the car swerved too.”
At this point, the Impala decided to cut in rather moodily.
I love to break this to you Sasquatch, that wasn’t me.
Sam jolted with the surprise and volume of the voice. Inside the car it seemed to echo like the inside of a cave.
“What did you say?”
Dean glanced at Sam worriedly. “What?” He repeated.
Just now, moving the car. It was supernatural, but it wasn’t me.
Sam’s heart thudded against his ribcage. “Did you hear that, Dean?”
Sam grew exasperated. “The Impala!”
Dean’s belief in Sam’s story began to falter. His silence to Sam’s impatience confirmed this.
The car swerved again, Dean cursed trying to get it under control. This time the car picked up in speed, and began moving backwards.
Then again, maybe Dean did believe Sam.
Without warning, the Impala came to a halt without any braking. The stop was so sharp, the front wheels lifted slightly of the ground, and the Winchester brothers were thrown back and then forward again, causing Dean to ram his head harshly into the steering wheel of the car. They both groaned; Sam reached for the back of his head where his injury from earlier that day was, Dean moved his hands towards his face but making no effort to sit up.
My God you’re fugly.
Sam hit the side of the car angrily. “Not now!” He growled.
Oh, that hurt. The Impala replied sarcastically.
“Sam?” Dean mumbled, turning to face his brother, he hissed in pain and covered his face.
Sam leaned over to where his brother sat hunched over. “Dean, what’s wrong?”
Dean didn’t answer, just mumbled quietly, attempting to form swear words only they morphed together in his jumbled mouth, concluding with one long curse.
Sam nudged him, springing into action. “Dean, move over, you can’t drive like this.”
Dean swatted his hand away but Sam held on and began pulling him gently over to his seat. Reaching for the handle behind him, Sam opened the door and climbed out as Dean clumsily flopped into the passenger seat. As he closed the door, he felt a presence and turned to the side. Behind the Impala standing several feet away stood three people. It was hard to make them out in the dark but Sam assumed they had seen the car behaving madly.
“Er, sorry about that!” He called out to them. They didn’t reply. He continued, “My brother, he’s had one too many to drink but don’t worry! I’ll be driving the rest of the way home.”
The strangers all together stepped into the streetlight. Sam didn’t really take a good look at what they looked like, because after he noticed three pairs of black, beady demonic eyes staring at him he was sprinting round to the driving side of the Impala.
Sliding in and wrenching the door shut, Sam realized that they had been responsible for messing with the car. Slamming his foot down on the accelerator, he sped away as fast as possible. Looking in the rearview mirror he saw the demons just standing there, still under the yellow light. Staring after them. Even now after all the years of hunting it still sent chills down Sam’s spine.
I’m going to get you.
“Do you know them?” Sam asked, pretending not to be disturbed by the car’s echoing voice, glancing every now and then at Dean, who was hunched over leaning against the window, rubbing his head. He had been fairly quiet, which worried Sam.
Well I can’t recognize them in human skin, dumbass.
Sam gripped the steering wheel. “Do you know Lillith?”
I know of her.
Realizing he wasn’t going to get any reasonable answers, Sam reached into his pocket and took out his phone, jabbing in the numbers with the hand that was holding it, he dialed Bobby’s number.
“It’s Sam. No need to worry about Ian, the demons have come after Dean.”
“You boys okay?”
“Uh, they messed around with us a bit but we got away. Dean hit his head on the wheel; I think he might be concussed.”
A few yards away from where Sam was driving, a bridge stood. Only it wasn’t quite ready to be used yet. Partly because there was a huge sign and some tape stopping cars from going that way… And partly because there was a gigantic leap in between the two ends of the bridge. Fortunately for one of the demons, who was currently knocking away the sign and tearing down the safety tap, the builders of this town had gone on strike.
“Okay we’ll be looking for you. Where about are you?”
Sam looked at his surroundings. “I’m just coming up a bridge now. I’ll be around there.”
Sam flipped his phone shut just in time to see what was ahead, or rather what wasn’t.
His heart froze, and his foot heavily stepped on the wheel, his knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly.
The car slowed, but Sam hadn’t reacted fast enough. The front wheels began to tip over the edge, the right side of the lurched forward and the car tipped upwards slightly before finally ceasing movement.
Breathing heavily, Sam swiveled his eyes around him to try and take in the situation. Any sudden movement and the car could go down. At the angle the car was, his door was just next to the edge of the road before the huge drop. Sam then looked to the left and the other car door was over the end of the road and balancing out in the open air. It was a miracle the car hadn’t toppled over, but it was still dangerously unstable. Sam could probably make it, but on the side of the car that his brother was sitting, Dean could not.
“Sam…” Dean whispered.
Sam slowly turned his head towards his brother; his eyes were unfocused and he couldn’t seem to keep his head upright, but he still understood what was going on.
“Sammy, get out of the car.”
Taking in a shaky breath, he replied strongly, “No.”
Dean could have laughed. Not long ago they were having the same argument, only about entering the car. His head was spinning and everything in front of his vision seemed to be swaying in random directions, confusing him. The only thing that remained clear was the danger, everything else melded together into a rainbow of vague and moving scenery. He could barely concentrate, but he had to.
He had to make sure Sam was safe.
“I’m not asking. Get out before the Impala goes over.” Dean said steadily.
“Not without you.”
“Get out now!” Dean said fiercely.
“I’m not leaving you!” Sam cried.
The car creaked, silencing the brothers, echoing their fears.
Dean’s volume dropped. “Sam, I have less than half a year to go, it doesn’t matter.”
Sam however, remained determined. “It matters to me.”
Dean ignored the nausea swirling inside him, clawing up his throat. “Please.” He begged, his voice was cracked and weak. “Don’t do this to me, Sammy.”
Sam’s chest rose up and down heavily as he panted from the fears of falling off the bridge or losing his brother. But one look into Dean’s hard gaze, despite his head injury and disorientation, Sam knew he had to do what was right.
With extremely slow and careful movements, Sam reached out for the door handle. He leant away from Dean but could hear him breathe a sigh or relief.
The door opened, and the car creaked once again but louder this time.
“Careful.” Dean warned quietly.
Sam held his breath, held in his mounting fear as he moved one leg out of the car and onto the road. One slip and he would fall back into the car, forcing them off balance and into the uncertainties afterlife.
His foot reached the pavement, as he hooked the other one onto the road he was forced to use the car as leverage, it jerked violently and Sam stumbled forward and onto the safety of the unfinished bridge.
Sam was back on his feet in a second, staring at the car helplessly. His hands were out in front of him, willing the car to stay balanced, too afraid to touch the vehicle in case he made things worse.
He had been scared inside the car, but watching the Impala tilted so dangerously over the bridge with his brother inside absolutely terrified Sam. And there was nothing he could do. His breathing turned to gasps and he stood frozen as the fear from his heart gripped his entire body. Dean was going to die at this very moment before his eyes, and he couldn’t blame the deal, and he couldn’t blame the supernatural.
And just as he thought all hope was lost, a miracle happened.
The car was moving.
But not downwards, not towards the ground way below.
Onto the road.
Sam gazed in awe as the Impala slowly but steadily, reversed itself upwards, one wheel at a time bumping back onto the bridge. Sam backed away to make room for it, but as soon as the whole of the Impala was back on the bridge, Sam ran for the passenger door. As soon as his hand slapped onto the door handle, the voice swept over him like a wave.
That was so selfish, abandoning him like that. I didn’t leave him! I saved him.
“Thank you.” Sam whispered, his voice still shaking. The Impala was less than accepting.
I really can’t wait to kill you now.
Sam pulled open the door, and Dean shot out immediately and grabbed onto Sam’s shoulders.
“Are you okay?” Before Sam could answer, Dean’s knees buckled and he was falling to the ground, bringing his brother with him.
Backing away from the car, Sam slowed his brother’s fall. “Are you okay?” He echoed Dean’s question.
Dean stared at the ground, gulping. “What…what the hell?” He managed to say.
Sam shook his head. The brothers sat hunched over in the cold night, grasping onto each others arms from the fear still left over, breathing like a couple of marathon runners. But they were safe.
Or are they? DUN DUN DUUUN
Woman in White
Member No.: 19,060
Joined: 15-April 07
As soon as Dean regained his breath, Sam was shot with a question.
"What did you do?"
He blinked. "I...I didn't do anything. The car moved on its own..." Sam tried to explain, but it seemed that Dean was not listening either because of his concussion, or because he didn't believe it.
Dean couldn't understand what Sam was trying to tell him. He shook his head, but learnt that this certainly did not clear his mind, it only sent it reeling. His concentration was spinning into the sky above him and into space.
He leant forward, groaning softly.
Sam shook him. “Dean, stay with me here.” He said urgently.
Dean could faintly hear Sam’s voice buzzing in his ears, but it was drowned out by the increasing volume of ringing. His vision blurred, he knew Sam needed him, but he couldn’t see where he was. He couldn’t see at all. The darkness had enveloped him.
Dean fell so far forward his forehead rested against Sam’s chest, Sam lifted his chin, shaking him again, calling his name repeatedly. But it was to no avail; Dean had passed out.
Sam carefully lowered him onto his side, too afraid to drag him inside the Impala. If it could role itself back onto bridges, no doubt it could speed away from Sam with Dean in tow.
He looked out into the distance for any sign of Bobby, what he was greeted with, however, was something far worse. The three people possessed by demons stood at the start of the bridge. There was an old man, who without the supernatural forces within him would walk with a cane, a blonde twenty-something girl, and a big man with dark brown hair. Ian. Clenching his teeth, Sam realised Dean had been set up by Ian. Somehow the demons must have known hunters were on the way.
They approached closer to Sam, stepping in time. Sam panicked, his weapons were in the angry Impala, there was nowhere to run and Dean was unconscious. This did not look good.
The roar of the family car caught both Sam and the demons’ attention. The headlights flashed like a holy light, and the tyres screamed as the Impala pounced forward. The demons stopped, and the Impala’s movement ceased just in front of them, a brake that would be impossible if it wasn’t for the supernatural controlling it. The Impala growled dangerously as the engine sounded, the demons backed away a few steps. The lights glowed brighter than Sam had ever seen, and the engine roared. The demons looked at one another as if deciding something, and then without a word turned around and ran away into the shadows of the night.
Sam stood up from his crouch and stared quietly at the Impala, which was turned away from him. The atmosphere held a tense silence, contrasting to the noise of the car just before.
The Impala reversed to the side, and then the wheels guided it until it was facing Sam, it sped towards him. Sam couldn’t run, he had nowhere to go. His heart dropped as his own car raced towards him, but as it neared him it seemed to slow down, and for a second Sam hoped it would perform another one of its miraculous brakes, but instead it knocked him down at about 15 mph before its headlights shut off and the engine died down.
On his back, staring at the night sky with the air currently knocked out of his lungs, Sam considered how bad the situation was. The demons were gone, the Impala hadn’t killed him, and Bobby was sure to be nearby. On the other hand, Dean was hurt, he was hurt, and Jack was sure to be nearby.
His body was numb from shock and unmoving from his exhaustion. His head injury was throbbing, and the nausea and dizziness returned. As he heard a vehicle’s engine, doors slam, and the familiar sound of Bobby’s voice, Sam closed his eyes, and wondered how bad tomorrow would be.
News travelled fast as the sun rose bringing with it the early morning warmth. From neighbour to neighbour, husband to wife, shop owner to customer, the news of the Mayflower murders was the first thing on their lips next to what was necessary to discuss such as dinner plans or how much that carton of milk was going to cost. For today at least, the citizens could breathe a sigh of relief, and go out again tonight. Last night, no murder had been committed. The curse of the Mayflower was currently sleeping.
As were the Winchesters.
Bobby stood at the door to bedroom they had taken up. Both brothers were on their backs lying on top of the quilt, the curtains were drawn due to Dean’s sensitivity to the light. Sam’s shoulders were tense and his forehead was creased with pain and worry as he slept. Unlike normally, Dean was lying perfectly straight and still, and held a permanent frown to his face. Whenever Bobby had attempted to wake him up –every hour, for his head injury- Dean had only been awake for a few minutes, grumbling about the light and noise before falling back to sleep. If Bobby didn’t know any better, he looked like he was suffering from a hangover. Dean was hurt, but he would be okay. And so would Sam, they all would be.
Bobby sighed and ran a hand over his face at this impossible wish, his stubble scratching his fingers. It had been a long night.
When Bobby and Jack had first found them, a disorientated Sam didn’t offer an explanation; he only wanted to know if Dean would be alright. Dean was found unconscious. It had been a bit of a tangle getting them into his truck which he had to trust Jack to drive, and Bobby had ended up driving the Impala back to the house alone.
He came back to find Dean still unconscious and Jack arguing with a distressed Sam. Jack later told Bobby that Sam had freaked when he told him Bobby was driving the Impala. Apparently he went into a rave about how they were all in danger, but it hadn’t made much sense to Jack. Sam’s fear didn’t last long though; he passed out from his head injury soon after –without taking any pain killers.
Right on cue, the brothers groaned in unison, and Bobby was drawn away from his thoughts. Slowly, two pairs of confused eyes squinted open.
Bobby couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the peculiar sight. “I know you guys do a lot together, but that was just weird.”
“So you really don’t remember much past the bar visit?”
Dean shook his head, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry Bobby. Maybe Sammy can fill us both in?” He turned to his brother.
Sam was sitting on his bed with his legs drawn up to his chest, leaning against the wall behind it, opposite where Dean sat cross legged on the bed, along with Bobby who perched on the side. He looked up from his knees to find them staring expectantly at them.
Dean raised an eyebrow. “You okay over there?”
“Yeah, my head just hurts a lot.” Sam muttered.
“Join the club.”
Sam changed the subject. “Where do you remember up to exactly?”
Dean frowned. “Uh… just vague things in the car…We were arguing. Wait –no. We weren’t. But we were talking about… something…” He trailed off as he noticed Sam avoiding his gaze. “What?”
Sam looked at him. “Nothing.”
“You’re a crap liar. What were we talking about?”
Sam opened his mouth, but no sound came out. By now both Dean and Bobby were giving him looks of warning, his eyes flickered from both of them.
“The car, I…” He began.
“What, the argument before the Mayflower?”
Sam’s eyes widened slightly at the opportunity. He cast his eyes downwards. “Yeah, that.”
Bobby nodded, but Dean still glanced at Sam suspiciously. “Right.” He said slowly.
Sam went on to explain what happened last night, only it was an abridged version. Sam explained Dean hit his head when the three demons –one of them being Ian- moved the car. He explained going up to the unfinished bridge to get away from them. However he didn’t explain any of the unfortunate and supernatural events surrounding the Impala. He selfishly was grateful that memory loss was an effect of concussion.
“So do you think Ian was possessed when he got into that argument with me?” Dean wondered. He was leaning over the bed by now with his head in his hands, trying to block out the growing sunlight peeking through the short curtains.
Bobby admitted. “No idea, I don’t think we’ll ever know. According to the news there hasn’t been anymore deaths surrounding the Mayflower. That’s good enough for me.”
“That means either Ian’s still possessed, or he’s safe.” Sam concluded.
There was a brief pause, and Dean added, “Or they just haven’t found a body yet.”
Bobby clapped the hunched over Dean on the shoulder and stood up. “I’ll go wait for Jack to come back from the store and fill him in on what’s happening. You boys get dressed.”
The door snapped shut, and Dean steadily got to his feet and plodded over to his duffle. Sam watched his slow and sluggish movements, making no effort to move himself.
“You know concussions take a few days to fully heal at the least.”
“Thanks for that college-boy.” Dean said, unfazed.
Sam gave him a pensive look. “I’m serious.” He said, kneeling up on the bed. He immediately regretted the action when his stomach released a burst of pain, causing him to collapse back down, hissing from the unexpected spasm.
Dean looked up from the clothes he was picking out of his bag. “What’s the matter?”
Sam sat awkwardly on his bed where he had dropped back down, not wanting to move in case more waves of pain radiating from his abdomen would rise. “Nothing.” He insisted.
Dean cocked his head to one side. Head injuries usually caused dizziness. “Is it your head injury?”
Sam shook his head.
Dean raised his eyebrows, growing annoyed at Sam’s detachment. “Well then what is it?”
“Well that’s a load of crap.”
“Just leave it…”
“Why are you crouched over like that?”
“Let me see your stomach.”
“What? No!” Sam backed further onto his bed to try and keep more distance between him and his brother.
“Sam...” Dean warned.
“It’s no big –ouch! What are you doing?” Sam slapped away Dean’s hands which had grabbed at his shirt, pulling it upwards. He pretended to be annoyed at the probing; really he was terrified at how Dean would react. Did he see those…?
“How the hell did you get those bruises?” Dean burst out.
Yeah. He saw.
Sam stared up at Dean with a pathetic expression, like a child being scolded by an adult. He said nothing. Dean gave him a thunderous look back, concealing his concern.
From the Impala banging into him. It sounded so simple in his mind, but Sam knew if he were to give him a piece of the truth, he would be forced to spill the entire contents of memories he had of the previous night.
“Answer me. Sam!” Dean barked, he crouched down to meet Sam’s height from where he was sitting on the bed.
“When the demons were jostling us about in the car, okay?” Sam suddenly snapped sharply.
Recoiling, Dean took in the explanation. “What?”
“I stupidly undid my seatbelt to try and get a closer look at them; I just got banged about a bit that’s all.”
“Those bruises are the result of that, then?”
“Those bruises, which happen to only be on your stomach, only on a certain spot.”
Dean looked hard at Sam. The unspoken silence lingering between them screamed that neither believed what he was saying. Sam held his gaze strongly, indicating that he was sticking by this story. Dean’s look changed from disbelief to disappointment. However in a flash it returned to his indifferent face and voice.
“Alright. Fine.” He turned his back to the younger Winchester, grabbing his clothes that had been lying bunched up on the floor. “Fine.” He repeated.
But nothing was.
“You okay Dean?”
The eldest Winchester was walking to the front door, his movement sluggish. Resisting the urge to close his eyes and crawl back to bed, he opened the door and held it open, turning to face Bobby.
“Something about Sam’s story doesn’t add up, I’m going out to the Impala.”
“What do you mean?” Bobby asked, confused.
He shook his head. “I don’t know yet.” He said honestly. He then walked out and shut the door behind him.
Bobby barely had time to scratch his nose before the front door opened again and slammed shut. Jack walked into the kitchen. Although he didn’t speak, and although his face remained expressionless Bobby knew he was angry from the way he stormed from room to room, the way he slammed down Bobby’s car keys and carelessly tossed the shopping bag onto the cabinet. He noticed Bobby sitting on a couch, watching him.
“I saw Dean. Is the other one awake?” Jack asked shortly.
“Yeah.” Bobby replied. He then went on to explain the unfortunate events of the night before that the Winchesters had retold. Jack simply nodded, then resumed to rush about. Bobby sighed, leaning his elbow on the arm rest.
“What?” He snapped.
“They didn’t do anything wrong.” He said earnestly, then carried on when Jack didn’t reply. “All us hunters get injured, you’ve had it bad yourself.” Jack stood with his back to him. “It’s a rough job you know that. Besides they’ve had worse.”
“Exactly!” Jack said placing his hands on his hips, still not turning around. “You’d think the fact that they’re partners -no brothers- would stop that from happening.”
“That’s not going to make a difference to anything supernatural on their tails. And it’s not like they don’t worry about each other.” Bobby argued.
“So what? Worrying isn’t enough!” Jack’s voice slowly started to rise. “I hear all these stories about them, the crap they tackle practically every single day of their lives. Soon enough one of them is going to die!”
Bobby stood up at this comment, one of them was going to die, but it wasn’t Jack’s business to know that. “Look, just cool down will you, head injuries are serious but come on, they’re going to be fine!”
Jack whirled around. “For how much longer, huh? How much longer ‘till their luck runs out?”
Bobby didn’t know where this anger was rooted from, but he knew Jack had to have a good reason, the man rarely showed his emotions unless necessary. “Look,” he said quietly, “I asked you before I suggested this if you’d have a problem working with them. You said no.”
“How do you expect me to hunt with them when they can’t work together without almost getting killed?” Jack said, his voice filled with venom.
“Alright, I’ve had enough,” Bobby started angrily. Sam and Dean was the closest thing he had to a family, he wasn’t going to listen to man who didn’t even know anything about them vent carelessly any longer.
“You know I had a brother once!” Jack announced angrily, his forehead creased at the painful memories. “We didn’t always get on, we didn’t always see eye to eye but damn it we always kept each other safe!” Suddenly Jack looked a lot older, a lot wearier. His voice sounded strained, as if trying to hold back the raw emotion that was hiding under his tough skin. “And when I see those two together, it just…it just…”
He faltered as he noticed Sam standing at the end of the hallway, his eyes wide flickering from Jack to Bobby. For a minute all three stood there, Sam playing the part of the frightened child who had walked in on their parents arguing.
Jack’s growing rage had disappeared, and he wandered off in the next room muttering. “If you’re looking for Dean he’s outside.”
Sam nodded and stared at his feet. He had heard the raising voices, but had only walked into the room in time to hear Jack’s brief outburst. “Okay.” He stuttered.
Bobby gave Sam an apologetic look, Sam stared uncomfortably back, he hesitated before asking quietly, “Is that true?”
“He never mentioned it before.” Bobby shrugged.
“It’s not your fault.” He stated sympathetically.
Sam wrinkled his nose. “I-I know.” He replied, unsure of what he was supposed to be blaming himself for.
Bobby sensed his confusion. “The other day, I heard you shouting, calling yourself a freak after that argument with Dean.”
Sam shifted from one foot to the other, finding something else to look at besides Bobby. “Oh.” He said again, and then he looked at the doorway Jack had exited through. His thoughts shifted, and his face dropped as he contemplated. He had just been looking at himself in twenty or thirty years time.
“Am I really going to turn out like that?” Sam questioned quietly, speaking to himself more than Bobby.
Bobby noticed the droop in Sam’s shoulders, the sadness in his voice. “Like what, Sam?” He asked softly.
Sam’s eyebrows knitted. “If I can’t save Dean… I’m going to end up just like Jack. I’m just going to be another loner to the world, growing old and broken. And no one’s going to give a damn.”
“That’s not true.” Said Bobby, but he knew Sam wasn’t discrediting him, he had to be realistic himself; he didn’t know how much longer he’d have in the world. He would die long before Sam.
Sam sighed shakily as despair threatened to crush him. And then he thought of John Winchester. Sam didn’t even have to ask himself what his father would do; John would go down fighting until the end. He was stubborn, like his father. He wasn’t going to give up on Dean. He’d promised Dean not long ago that together they’d find a way.
But before they could do that, Sam knew they had to overcome the thing that had possessed the Impala, and he couldn’t do it alone.
Dean sat in the Impala’s driving seat, willing himself to remember last night’s events. There was something Sam wasn’t telling him, and if he wouldn’t tell him then his brilliant brain would have to figure it out- concussion or not.
He took a deep breath and shut his eyes. His fingers curled around the wheel and turned it around as if driving, his vision changed to the night before. A dark road, a hassling hunt, and a strange conversation…
He kept his eyes on the road ahead, it was illuminated by the car’s headlights.
His own voice echoed in his memories.
“Sam, nothing’s wrong with the car!”
His brother was sitting sideways in the car seat, and Dean glanced at Sam whose eyes locked with his, shining with determination in the black shadows of the car.
“No, nothing’s wrong with the engine. Dean, I think the car’s possessed by something.”
Dean’s eyes snapped open as he heard a familiar voice calling for him from outside the car. He shook his head at the blurry memory, he couldn’t have remembered right…
Rolling his eyes, Dean rolled down the window.
“I think you should get out of the car.” It was posed as a suggestion but there was urgency marked in Sam’s voice.
“W-we need to talk.”
Dean held out his arms and shrugged. “Can’t we talk like this?”
“Then why don’t you get in the car and we’ll talk?” Dean said casually.
Sam’s face changed. “No.” He repeated.
“Oh come on, it’s not like it’s possessed or anything…”
Sam’s face hardened, but Dean wasn’t sure if that confirmed the woozy memory or not; Sam usually got pissed when he messed about like this.
“Dude I really need to talk to you…” The rest of Sam’s words were cut off by the sound of the window winding up again.
“Then talk to me in the car.” Dean said just before it shut completely. Sam gave him a frustrated look, but he ignored it along with a twinge of guilt he was feeling. He wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to do, but if the Impala really was possessed surely Sam wouldn’t agree to talk inside it?
Sam sighed and he stormed round to the other side, pulled open the door and slid in, shutting the door with him. He sat rigidly for a couple of seconds.
Dean breathed a sigh of relief all too soon.
“Dean the car’s been possessed.” Sam snapped.
Sam stared at his knees, shifting uncomfortably in the car, the pills he had taken before getting changed had numbed the pain in the back of the head. Unfortunately it did nothing for his the sinking feeling of regret. He looked over at Dean who was sitting incredibly still, by the time Sam had finished his story Dean’s hands had a vice grip on the wheel. Sam dropped his head in shame.
“Dean, say something.” He said quietly.
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this sooner, Sam?” Dean growled.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly, “I thought I was imagining things.”
“Imagining things? In our line of work?” Dean scoffed. His eyes then darted around the car as if suddenly realising where it was. “What the hell are we doing in here?” He hurriedly pushed open the door –leaving it open- and stumbled out quickly onto the front lawn, only to turn around and find Sam still inside.
“Sam.” Dean said slowly, raising his eyebrows.
Sam gave him an apologetic look, and then put his hand on the roof. “I don’t know… The Impala, it hasn’t said anything to me yet.”
Dean looked at him as if he were mad. “What you think it’s going to give you a warning before it’s, ‘going to get you’?”
“It has before!” Sam argued.
Dean raked a hand through his hair, trying to keep calm. “Well maybe you better get out anyway rather than take the risk.” And he was failing terribly. “You know I didn’t bring you back from the dead just so you could lose your life again.”
Sam seemed appalled by the comment. “What are you going to do, bring that up every time I want to for the rest of my life?”
“No,” insisted Dean, “just for the rest of my life.”
Sam tore his gaze away from his brother, hurt. “Don’t say that.” He said so quietly, Dean had to take in a few steps to hear.
“Oh don’t be a girl, why shouldn’t I?” Dean dared bitterly. “Time’s running out Sam, and I don’t see any way around this!” All his despair and fear of what could happen pushed the words out of his mouth.
“You don’t have to remind me that!” Sam snapped.
“Well if you’re so sure you’ve got your priorities right, then listen to your older brother and get out of the damn car!” Dean yelled the last part, his determined glare unavoidable. Sam glared back half heartedly before finally exhaling loudly.
He climbed over to the middle of the car when the Impala decided to break the bad news to him.
I’m going to get you.
The car door slammed shut and the engine hollered, Dean’s expression changed from pissed to panic. As the wheel screeched the vehicle moved forward with impressive speed, forcing Sam to fall back and slam into the back seat, knocking the wind out of him. The contents of the car sprang into a jitter freely, the evil concealed inside the Impala giving them life.
Dean watched in horror as his baby darted away from him with his little brother in tow, and for a fraction of a second a realisation danced across his mind: the unfortunate events of the night before would be no match for today.
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