Okay, forage into fan fiction! Here we go...
A Supernatural Quickie
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Synopsis: Dean's back from Hell and all looks like its back to normal for the Winchester brothers—or at least as normal as the life of a pair of hunters who are trying to stop the end of the world ever can be. Throw in a couple of angels, demons, and oh yeah the nightmares from hell that haunt Dean every waking moment—what could go wrong?
Warning and Disclaimer; I do not own the Supernatural universe. The characters, story, setting and scenery are all the products of the much more talented and creative minds, more specifically the clearly wonderfully twisted brains of Kripke and Singer. I'm just borrowing them to play with for a few hours, I promise they'll be returned in reasonably the same condition…okay maybe a little more ravished than originally!
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A Supernatural Quickie; Chapter 1;
Dean woke up his heart pounding, cold sweat making the sheets cling to his skin but doing nothing to stop the goosebumps that rose provoked by the air conditioned chill of the room. The screaming echoed in his head, following him out of the nightmare and into the most recent room in a series of bad motels. The dingy 1960s wall paper and retro furniture stood out in dark relief against the shadows of the night. He sat up, hand automatically reaching under his pillow and for the gun resting there, fingers curling over the grip, the weight and feel soothing him like a child with a teddy bear…and as familiar.
Sam slept still in the other bed. His body angled to fit on the double mattress yet his feet still hung on the end. Dean had an impulse to tickle them, wake Sam up cursing just to hear the sound of something…anything but his heartbeat and the dark…and the screams.
He sat up slowly, wiping the sweat off his face….but for a moment in the blackness his hand looked like it was covered in blood and he felt the hot splash of it across his face, saw the knife in his hand….he squeezed his eyes closed.
It's not real…it's not real…
But that was the problem--no matter how often he tried to convince himself otherwise, it was real. It had happened and he'd done it. He'd done it all. Dean swallowed and nearly gagged as he tasted the blood on his lips, his tongue, felt the remembered smile form on his face…he rushed to the bathroom, barely feeling the smooth tiles under his feet and palms before being sick into the toilet.
He sat back, resting his head against the wall and looked back into the room, breath held as Sam mumbled something and rolled over, pulling his feet back under the covers. He should be thankful for small mercies…he didn't wake up screaming anymore. Sam thought that the nightmares had stopped, that Dean just needed time. Truth was, Dean was just getting to be better at hiding it. Sam had the end of the world to worry about, he didn't need to worry about Dean too. Besides, it was Dean's job to protect his little brother, not the other way around.
"You can't keep it from him forever, He's your brother. He loves you so he'll just keep pushing. And he's a smart kid. Sooner or later he'll figure out that you're hiding something and make you have the whole chick flick moment."
Dean felt his teeth clench as he opened his eyes. The girl was sitting across from him on the floor, one arm draped over the side of the bathtub. Her skin looked like cream in the diffuse light that shone in through the window, eyes and hair the colour of liquid coffee framing her face. One hand reached out to wipe his lips and trailed, resting onto his shoulder. He felt his hand reach for her, as if it had a mind of its own, his rough fingers intertwining with her pale ones.
It felt so right, just like every night before this for nearly a year. But it wasn't and so he stood up, bracing himself against the sink he turned on the water and looked in the mirror—the olive tile picked up the street light from outside and made him look a sickly shade of green. A dark stubble grazed his face and made the circles under his eyes stand out even more. But he was alone in the room, no one stood up and leaned her hip against the edge of the counter, one hand pushing escaping mocha curls away from her face.
"Everything will be better in the morning love," she whispered, leaning in and kissing him, ever so softly he felt his heart could break with even that small touch, on the edge of his jaw. "Come back to bed."
Sam didn't need to know he was hallucinating.
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Sam yawned, stretching and felt his head brush against the top of the headboard. He curled back up for a moment, pulling the covers up again and dragging a pillow over his head to block out the sun that crept in around the edges of the curtains. Just once, it would be nice to get a real hotel room, he thought. One of those ones you see advertised on tv with the blackout curtains for travelers who are jet lagged and the free breakfasts….His stomach growled with the thought of fresh coffee, warm muffins, and orange juice. He lay there a moment more, relishing the dream before the reality of hunger won over more sleep and he rolled out of bed.
"Morning Sammy, up and at 'em!." Deans voice penetrated through the fog of his thoughts in the morning and he spared him a glare on the way to the bathroom. How could anyone be that cheery before a shower and a couple cups of coffee?
Dean heard the shower start in the bathroom and the smile slipped off his face. He'd barely had any sleep, had been afraid to close his eyes in case the torture he'd inflicted in hell came back to him again in his dreams, and afraid to keep them open in case his waking nightmare of the girl continued to haunt him.
He stared at the map spread out on the table in front of him, place names and highways blurring before his eyes to be sun kissed skin with freckles connected by streams of blood….
Sam stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist and shook water out of his ear.
"Got anything for breakfast?" he asked, barely seeing Dean sitting motionless at the table.
"Would have if you'd woke up an hour ago sleeping beauty," Dean said, pulling himself back to reality. He looked up and tossed Sammy a shirt and some jeans out of his bag by the door. "Get dressed, we'll grab you a coffee on the way."
Sam glanced at Dean in surprise before his clothes nearly him in the face. His brother was willing to make an extra stop when he'd slept through breakfast? What crazy tripped up reality had he woken up in this time…not wanting to question his good luck he pulled on his shirt, feeling the cotton stick to skin still slightly damp.
"So what's the hurry Dean?"
"Worlds still ending Sam, and I for one don't want to sleep through it."
Sam took the rebuke with ease, Dean had been touchy lately, and deserved to be—it wasn't every day that you went to hell and back, and then learned that hell was trying to join you on earth too. If Dean needed some time to deal with that then Sam was going to give it to him…he just wished that they could both stop pretending though. Dean had been gone for 4 months…and Sam had to get along without him. He wasn't the kid following around his older brother and doing everything Dean said anymore. He'd had to make the hard calls, and there was no one there to back him up or give him advice. And he'd done okay.
"Yeah, but we still don't know when," Sam said, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling on his shoes. "Or where the next seal is…do we?"
"I did some research while you were catching up on your beauty sleep," Dean teased, pulling the map off the table and spreading it out on the bed in front of Sam. "See this?" he pointed to where a collection of pen circles marked the map.
"Yeah, just outside of…" Sam squinted to make out the name of the town, the small black lettering almost covered up by pen. "Remi…Remington?"
"I've checked the signs Sammy, there's been an increase in freak lightening storms, unexplained electrical problems, people "losing" time…all the signs of demons in town. It's got to be where the next seal is."
"Has Castiel said anything?"
"Damn Angel is a pretty selective voice of God when he wants to be."
"I take it that's a no then," Sam said, making Dean meet his eyes.
"What else could it be though Sam?" Dean sounded almost feverish he was so sure.
"Look I think maybe we'd better check this out with Bobby first. Just to make sure."
"What so now you think I don't know a demon when I see one Sam? Me?"
"Look…" Sam said, backpedaling to safer ground. "If it's really as bad as this then we're going to need some backup anyways. We can't go into that alone."
Dean was silent, glaring at the map as if he could kill every demon with only his hatred alone. If it had been a year ago, he'd have told Sam to quit whining like a girl and get his ass in the car…but he wasn't sure if he could trust his own judgment anymore. He was seeing things…hearing things. He didn't know if he could trust himself to watch Sam's back. Maybe it would be best to have another hunter with them. Dean just didn't know if he could keep it from anyone else---if he could make them believe he was sane.
"Fine Samantha," Dean said, covering up his worry with sarcasm. "If you're too scared to go with just me—Bobby's place isn't too far out of the way."
"Hey," Sam said, finally pushed to his limit. "I didn't say that Dean…" But Dean was already grabbing his bag and heading out the door.
"Hurry up princess."