Still in Silence.
Author's note: I have absolutely no idea where this came from. No idea. It all started with a challenge that Darksupernatural presented me with: bring a legend from your own backyard to the Winchesters. It seems so clean and simple. And, before I know what happened, I am writing this. It is now a mix of a local legend, my own thoughts and stories and a Dutch book I once read ('De verborgen bron' by Hella Haasse. Translated literally as 'The hidden source'). But, honestly, I don't know what this is.
Disclaimer: Mr. Kripke, sir, I bow to you. Ms Gamble; I am not fit to lick your boots and am fully aware of that, but would it have killed you to spare Mr Henrickson's life? I like him, damn it! A disclaimer for Hella Haasse as well, because it's been a while since I read the book and I can only recall the way I felt when I read it. I guess this is how I felt, Anything that looks like it came from the book: I'm sure it did and it is not mine.
Takes place somewhere after 3.10 'Dream a little dream of me'.
With a huge, huge thank you to Sabine, who read this story many more times than I have, guided, supported and gave me the courage to post it. Sabine, trust me, this is as much your story as it is mine!
Still in Silence.
Each morning I get up, I die a little.
(Somebody to love – Queen)
" Why again, are we going to..." Sam's brow furrowed as he glanced down at the piece of paper in his lap. "...Rozenbourgh?"
Dean but back an irritated sigh and forced his hands to relax on the weel.
"Because there might be a hunt there, Sam. How many times are you going to ask me this exactly?"
"Until I get an answer that satisfies me. I just don't understand why we are driving all this way to this little hellhole in the absolute middle of nowhere, just because some guy in a bar was bragging about a haunted house."
"You don't know he was just bragging, Sam. He might actually be right."
"He might not. He was working his way through his second bottle by then."
"So that idiot might have seen 'House on a haunted hill' one time too many. Are you willing to take that chance?" Dean looked over at his little brother. "This is our job, or have you conveniently forgot?"
"Oh, don't give me that. I know what our job is. I also know there are more important things to be spending time on."
That made Dean fall silent. It wasn't as if he hadn't known from the start that this was what his little brother was fretting about.
Ever since his asdmittance that he didn't want to go to hell, Sam had been man on a mission more than ever and although he stood by his words, that he really didn't want to die, he also didn't want to stop doing what he did. Hunting was who he was. He might be angry about that, he might resent it sometimes but it was also what made him move, kept him on his feet. Whether he had chosen this life or had been forced into it; it was what he did.
He took a deep breath again and tried to relax his throat. He needed to keep Sam calm, give him something to work with.
"Sam, I know. Okay? I do. But I can't just stop hunting. It's what I do. It's what I want to do. So how about we just go and check this out and if it turns out to be nothing, we'll turn back around and go wherever the hell it is you wanna go. And if it is something, well then, I am willing to let you mope and pine while I go out and kill the bad guys, alright?"
A small smile fought its way onto Sam's lips, battling the annoyance at this typical Dean-behavior. Some things would never change.
"Alright."
They had made their way to the ancient town of Rozenbourgh with surprising little difficulties. Maybe that had something to do with the town not actually being ancient. In fact, it hadn't been built until after the second world war and, therefore, everything in the small town looked relatively new.
They had found a small and rather dank bed-and-breakfast near the end of town and an even smaller and danker bar-meets-diner. Now, Sam's eyes were glued to the screen of his laptop as he, reluctantly, searched for information on the town. Sam hadn't been completely wrong when he'd said that a drunkenass bragstory from a guy at a bar was very little to go on. The guy had been letting Dean play his money out of his coatpockets with no complaints when he'd started telling a story about his hometown where there was a house that nobody dared to go into because it was haunted, even though nothing had actually really happened there to make them think that. Dean had halfway through the tale decided that it was at least 90 bullshit and hadn't really planned on doing anything with it but when they'd awoken the next morning and Sam's face wore the expression he'd been wearing all too often, Dean had decided they could really use a distraction. He'd hounded Sam in going after it, preaching about how this was their job and they did what they did, but the ugly truth hidden within that halftruth was that even Dean couldn't care less about this hunt. All he cared about right now was pushing the deal and his impending doom as far away as he possibly could, if not for him, then for Sam. He'd meant it when he said that he didn't want to die, didn't want to spend eternity suffering in some helldimension, but he also knew that, given Ruby's semi-trustworthy remarks, it would be damn near impossible to get him out of it. No matter how badly he wanted to stay out of hell, no matter how badly Sam wanted to save him, the deal stood firm and his days were passing with alarming speed.
He stood outside of the hotel, his hands jammed into his pockets, waiting for his little brother to finish his beautyregime. The chilly wind slammed into his face without much sound. He felt his mouth, nose, ears go numb. The way they did when you were shoveling snow. Not that he shoveled snow an awful lot. It made him draw his coat tighter around him. He really ought to get a warmer coat, but as soon as the thought hit, he knew he wouldn't. It was his coat. Fit him better anyway. He bounced back and forth as he tried to make Sam hurry the hell up with the sheer force of his mind. He had suggested they go into town to eat and see if they could find out some more about that so-called haunted house from the locals. Sam's eyebrows had shot up at his brother's suggestion in a way that clearly showed his doubt about this entire hunt and he had agreed in a way that even more clearly showed he was only going along with this for Dean's sake. He hated both that look and that tone with fervor. When Sam finally made it out of the hotel, the older brother was about ready to strike a punch.
"Finally made it out of there, huh? I was beginning to think that maybe those ghosts had made their way from the house into the hotelroom."
Sam just rolled his eyes at that.
"Yeah, well. If you made an effort to clean up your own shit every now and then, I wouldn't have taken so long. I don't get why you're so anxious to get out there, anyway. I researched this whole freaking town and came up with absolutely nothing."
"Since when is that ground to say this is not a hunt, Sam?"
"Since you've started taking on every hunt you can find, just so you won't have to think about what's going to happen."
"Whatever, dude. Just get in the car."
Sam said nothing and opened the door but as soon as they were both seated, he turned on Dean again.
"You do realize that whenever you say that, you're telling me I'm right, right?"
"What? What the hell are you talking about?"
"This. This 'whatever, dude, what are you talking about' routine. You always do that when I say something that you know is true but don't want to admit to because that might endanger the 'fearless hunter' game you play so well."
"Dude..."
"See? There you go again."
Dean bit back whatever the hell it was he was going to say and forced his eyes back on the road. He knew, more than ever before, that his 'kamikaze' attitude didn't work on Sam but that didn't mean he liked it whenever his little brother pointed it out. He didn't need Sam to buy it. He just needed him to accept it, to let Dean handle things his way. Talking about how he felt had never been his way of dealing. It wasn't something he'd ever been taught. Hadn't his mother died, things might have been different but his mother had died and John Winchester hadn't exactly been forthcoming with lessons of the emotional kind. He'd learned pretty early on that letting emotions get the better of you got you nowhere and showing your weaknesses only made you vulnerable. Sam had, in a way that would never suffice, been shielded from the reality of Dean's life. He'd never had to hide what he felt because he'd had Dean around to share it with. Even though it hadn't been enough, would never be enough, there had always been a buffer between Sam and the world his father had forced him into and that buffer had been Dean. It was on days like these, days when Dean felt out of place even in his own skin, that he felt jealous of Sam and the illusion the younger man had been allowed to live in. Back in Pittsburgh, where that damn dreamtea had let his deepest fears, anger and resentment come to life in the form of his personal evil twin, he'd been forced to acknowledge the truth of his relationship with his father, his brother and, more than anything, his relationship with himself. And he hadn't come out of that battle the winner.
It had cost him all his energy to flip the proverbial switch and get back into the jacket, the car and the life his father had left him. Now, as he steered the car in the direction of the nearest diner, it was all he could do not to look at Sam and see his father. John had put him in the role of caretaker at the tender age of four and Sam was trying to push him out of it. He knew it wasn't fair, knew it was only in his mind that Sam's face melted into John's sometimes but that didn't change the fact that, any way he turned it, he felt pushed into a direction he hadn't chosen, into mall that didn't fit him.
The diner didn't differ from any of the other diners they'd ever had breakfast, lunch or dinner in. Dean ate his burger and Sam his salad in an unusual silence that had nothing to do with anger or annoyance but everything with Dean not feeling like being witty and flirty and so Sam had nothing to frown and/or smirk about. Not that they never had anything to talk about, but with every day that the older brother came closer to his death, the younger brother became more grim and with neither of them offering up a topic of conversation, the meals became quiet.
It didn't take them long to finish eating, a genuine yearning for food had long since deserted them both, and they made their way back to the car. There hadn't been many other people to try and get a story out of and when Dean had, halfheartedly, made a move on the waitress to try and get her to talk, he'd been disappointed to learn that the girl had only just moved in herself and knew nothing about any local legends. The older man at the bar, who had been nursing his upteenth beer by then, had only snorted and mumbled something about gullible tourists.He'd need to find somebody to back up the story, if only to shut up Sam, who was sure to be ready to start bitching any minute now. He grimaced at the thought and looked over at his brother, who was just about to open the cardoor.
"You up for a little recon, Sammy?"
"You want to go out into the forest now? Dean, we haven't even learned anything new. Not that there was anything there to begin with."
"Yeah, so that's why we should. We're not gonna run into anybody tonight. We'll just go and check out the site. We find anything, we'll know for ourselves. We don't, we go into town tomorrow and try again."
"Fine. I still think we're wasting time, here, but fine."
He fought back the urge to strangle the kid. Instead opted for sarcasm, trusty old friend.
"Thank you, Sammy, for your kind cooperation."
He watched as Sam swallowed and gritted his teeth. The fact that his little brother might be simply trying just as hard as he was, not fully registering tonight.
"Let's just go, okay?"
They got out of the car and started walking, Dean taking the lead. He didn't look back to seem if Sam was following and he couldn't tell whether that was because he knew that Sam would always follow now or because he didn't care this time.
It was quiet. That was the first thing that came to Dean's mind as he made his way through the forest, Sam close behind. It was too quiet. There were no crickets chirping, no wind blowing, no bushes rustling. Nothing.
They'd found the edge of the forest, no trouble. Dean had taken a path straight into the forest without a word to Sam. He'd started walking without looking back, desperate to get away from the town, the people, the world. Desperate to get away from whatever it was he was running from. The size of the forest wasn't exactly impressive. In fact, it was quite disappointing to see the trees and bushes not stretch longer than the eye could see and it was that fact that had made Dean decide they might as well just go ahead and see what the fuss was about. Sam hadn't put up too much of a fight, which hadn't surprised his older brother because it seemed they had both, albeit silently, agreed that the legend was nothing more than that; just a local legend, sprung from the mind of bored teenagers. Now however, as they were getting deeper and deeper into the woods, the moss absorbing the fall of their footsteps, the silence closing in on them, Dean was starting to wonder if this had been such a good idea. He could detect nothing that could be interpreted as a haunting, nothing supernatural had so far come to meet them, but the sheer presence of the absolute nothingness made the older hunter uneasy.
"Dean?"
It was barely more than a whisper, Sam apparently just as uncomfortable with the silence as his brother. Or maybe he was uncomfortable with Dean.
"What?"
He said it out loud, pretending to not have noticed how suddenly the world seemed to have disappeared.
"Where the hell are we going?"
Sam spoke with a bit more volume this time, although it still sounded more like a whisper than anything else.
"I have no idea, dude. Guess we'll know when we get there?"
"Don't you think that maybe we should just come back tomorrow? In daylight, perhaps?"
"What is it, Sammy? You afraid of the dark all of a sudden?"
He didn't see, but heard the angry sigh. He could imagine the look on his kid brother's face all too well, having been on the receiving end of it more times than he could count.
"Dude. Knock it off. You know what I mean."
He couldn't go on like this, being difficult just because he felt like it. He wasn't a freaking teenager. And even as teenager he hadn't ever been difficult. Not when it came to his family. He felt the bitterness rising in the back of his throat, felt his head fill with the words his own Mr Hyde had thrown at him. No, he couldn't keep doing this, he couldn't keep feeling like this. But he couldn't quite give in yet, either.
"Yeah, maybe. But we're already here, aren't we? So we might as well just go ahead."
"No."
At that, Dean stopped and turned to look at his sibling ( his purpose, his life), and raised an eyebrow.
"No?"
Sam came to a full halt as well, positioning his feet firmly on the ground. Ready to take a stand, ready to fight his brother on this.
"No."
"Why the hell not, Sam? Don't tell me you're really afraid."
Why was he doing this? Why was he goading his brother like this? Was he looking for a fight, for another round of 'put the blame where it belongs'? None of this was Sam's fault. The issues he had were with his father and Sam was not John, no matter how much he might resemble him sometimes. He had to remember that. He had to hand it to the kid, Sam wasn't backing down.
"No, Dean. I'm not afraid, but I'm tired and annoyed and we don't go into hunts unprepared, whether we believe they're real or not."
And with that, he picked up the pace, placing himself just a few steps more away from his brother. Sam didn't say one more word but Dean could tell, just by the way the younger man was breathing, that he was annoyed and he was sure as hell gonna let Dean know about it when they got back to the hotel, Dean bit back a curse and moved to follow his little brother. Sometimes, he wished he could just stop being an older brother for a while. Sometimes he wished he could just be.
Well? What did you think? Would you like to see the second chapter?