And so we start again ! Welcome back to all the old readers from the 'Forsaken' story and a big fat 'Howdy' to all the new ones ! Now, firstly I have to say that yes it would be helpful if you have read 'Forsaken' before 'Lying in Wait, but I believe it's not all that necessary, as there is enough of an explanation throughout the early chapters to explain what took place; however if bored and want to know the background to why the boys are here, feel free to read it :o)
Well I do hope you enjoy this story, personally I am having great fun writing it. It's under the 'Supernatural/Angst' section, but seriously, it could also fit into almost every other section.
Finally can I thank every one who was kind enough to review on my last story. It was my first ever 'Supernatural' story and I was lost for words by the amount of people who wrote to tell me they enjoyed it. I just hope that you enjoy this one. Once again thank you.
Now on with ' In Reflection'…..
Lying in Wait –Chapter 1- In Reflection
" Come on…!" Sam shouted at the top of his lungs, as he ploughed through the doors of the wooden cabin and burst out into the dark riddled sky. His hazel eyes shot back as he looked to see Dean just inches behind him.
His breathing tight in his lungs, he came to a jagged stop a few meters away from the Impala, Dean gasping for air beside him.
" What the hell was that..!" Sam shrieked, looking at his older brother. The shot gun he held in his hand dropped lifelessly to the floor.
" I don't know.." Dean admitted, as he sucked in a shaky voice, " Only damn thing I am sure about was that thing in there was real, like super duper friggin real…"
" It was human…" Sam whispered as his breathing finally fell back in line, " That thing wasn't even a thing Dean, it was human I saw it's eyes…"
" Oh hell yeah.." Dean said looking angrily at the shot gun filled with rock salt, " Which means these things were pretty much useless…"
" How could they not know it was human..?" Sam asked with a shake of his head. " Stupid friggin morons…"
" They lied.." Dean said angrily as he strode towards the Impala, his shoulders hunched in anger, " And I'm gonna find his ass and kick it with a steel toed boot and then I'm gonna use this gun and fill him with rock salt.."
" That won't make this situation any better Dean.." Sam pointed out with a sigh,
" Well it'll make me feel a whole damn sight better…" Dean muttered as he glanced over his shoulder at Sam. " You gonna stand there all night, because I'm just in the mood to leave your ass here so you can bond with old crazy in the house back there.."
Sam chuckled dryly, that was typical Dean. Fed up and moody because the hunt hadn't gone to plan.
" I'm coming…" Sam said with a chuckle as he jogged after his stomping brother.
" Shit ass morons and their stupid shit ass information.." Dean muttered, " I ought to go hunt them down and shoot a clip into them off a principle alone.."
Sam couldn't stop laughing, which seemed to incense Dean more.
" What, smart ass you think this is funny..?" Dean demanded, " That we drove for nine hours to get to this dump and then to find that the people they should have called in first friggin place was the SWAT team.."
" You know, things would….-" Sam's voice changed instantly, his body sounded crushed.
Nothing but a gasp escaped his body as his eyes locked with Dean's and then second's later fell face down to the floor.
The sound of the gun crack had shattered the silent night.
Dean's shot was simple and painless; it was once straight to the man's chest. Dean watched as the tall, heavy weight man gasped and fell to the floor.
Dean stared at Sam's body, it lay, never moving once it had fallen. The gun fell from Dean's hands as he slowly dragged his unwilling feet over to where Sam lay.
He gently reached down and turned him over, his eyes were closed. Dean then looked at his hands that were shaking violently, they were stained with blood.
Sam's blood.
His hands searched under Sam's neck for pulse, it was routine but Dean knew differently. This outcome wouldn't be routine.
Sam was dead…..
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His body was clammy, wet and damp as Dean Winchester snapped into a sitting position on his bed. He scrubbed his hands over his face and then stared down at his hands. No blood, but God, was his hands shaking.
Slipping off the queen sized bed, Dean was grateful that Sam wasn't sharing a room with him.
Sam had a room all to his own, and Dean had to admit, that the beach house apartment they were renting was fantastic.
It was the perfect way for the two of them to recover from the trauma, bruises and injuries they'd picked up, and truth was, they were enjoying themselves.
That was until the nights stepped in.
Then the stupid games would start for Dean. The panic he was always able to quell during the day suddenly became an unbearable burden at night. Most nights he'd drink simply to put himself into an unconscious state, where times like tonight, where no drink had been involved, the nightmares reared their ugly heads.
Each of them always ended the same horrific way. Sam dying and Dean never doing anything to save him. Just standing there and watching him die.
Tonight's dream had been no different, although Dean was curious to where these elaborate hunts were coming from.
Sitting on the end of his bed, he glanced at the luminous face of the bed side clock. It was just gone 3am. It was time to go and check on Sammy.
Opening his bed room door quietly he suddenly stared down at what his feet had just stood in.
Bending down, Dean touched the white grainy substance and smelt his hand with a wrinkled expression on his face.
It was a thick line of salt.
Confused to what it was doing there, Dean, crept out into the spacious living area and saw that Sam's door was closed. Padding across the wooden floor in just a pair of shorts and being careful not to bump into the sofas or coffee table, Dean silently pushed open Sam's bedroom door and poked his head around.
Dean suddenly shoved open the entire door and stood in the entrance with his hands on his hips.
Sam's bed was empty.
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Sam Winchester inhaled deeply as the wind gently blew his dark brown hair about on his head. There was something about the sea air that always made him feel sleepy. With his knees hugged against his chest, and his arms ruefully wrapped around his legs, he kept his breathing deep and steady, allowing the calming sea air to help unclog the mess that was his mind.
It was a beautiful night.
The night air was warm as Sam sat in the sand dunes in a pair of jogging bottoms and t-shirt. He let his toes wriggle in the sand as he closed his eyes inhaling once again the salty sea air.
He was only a couple hundred feet away from the beach side apartment he was sharing with his older brother. They'd been here just over a week and as much as it puzzled Sam into how Dean had managed to, one, acquire the apartment and two, afford to pay for it; Sam was actually having a good time.
Well as good a time as someone recovering from a brain haemorrhage could actually have. Sure he wished things were different.
He wished he still didn't feel as sluggish as he did, he wished his body didn't ache the way it constantly did. He also wished that the constant pain in his head would just for once take a leave of absence. Finally, Sam wished that Dean would go back to normal, because once Dean returned to his cocky, self assured, good natured way, only then Sam could finally calm down and truly relax.
…Dean…. Sam thought, his brother causing him to smile.
There was something about Dean at the moment that was bothering Sam.
Yes Dean had taken care of him the last week and a half, in fact Sam couldn't complain once. Dean had been a saint; patient with Sam's slow movements, understanding when Sam's mood's would jump from happy to fighting back tears in the space of a minute. Dean had been as good as gold, never once shouting at him, letting him do exactly what he wanted, which judging from Sam's current condition, wasn't very much, but the fact that Dean was allowing him the options warmed Sam's sinking confidence.
It was almost like Dean was scared of something. It was the something that was bugging Sam, along with his brother's odd behaviour.
Sam had lost count the amount of times he'd physically been woken out of his sleep by Dean. In fact it had led to some rather chosen words by Sam, which seemed to simply wash over an unfazed Dean. Sam seemed to be unable to sleep in peace without Dean either standing over him or waking him up, all in all, since leaving hospital over a week and a half ago, Sam hadn't slept through the night; and neither had Dean.
Tonight was no exception. Only this time it hadn't been Dean sitting on his bed waking him up and then asking him if he was ok. Sam had woken up all by himself.
It was the oddest feeling in the world, but Sam could have sworn that there was something standing over him when he'd snapped awake. He wouldn't ever admit it to Dean, but it had scared him. Scared him so much that he'd snuck into Dean's room to make sure his elder brother was ok.
Then, with his body crying out for him to sit down, he'd picked up the shot gun, which was by the entrance of the apartment and did a sweep of the place. Normally a general sweep would take all of five minutes, but in the condition Sam was in, it had taken close to thirty-five minutes.
Of course to wind Sam up further he hadn't found anything, but just to be on the safe side, he'd taken the salt drum from the kitchen and drawn a line right outside Dean's bed room door, headed out the veranda, down the stairs and straight onto the beach.
Sam shook his head, his chin now resting on his knees. Something had really rattled Dean; it was the only explanation to his behaviour.
…Maybe me being in a coma had a bigger impact on him than I thought it did…Sam considered as he stared out at the dark sea, the stars dancing in the sky above…..Maybe I'm being over critical, I mean there's nothing wrong with Dean being nice to me….
Sam shook his head, which only annoyed him further when the pain rocketed around his head.
….But he's not being nice to me, he's spoiling me, letting me do what I want, never arguing with me, constantly checking up on me……Sam said with a sigh….This isn't Dean, this isn't my Dean. This is someone who is too scared to let me in, it's like he's scared of something I might….
Sam slowly raised his head, an idea forming in his mind that he hadn't considered.
…He's scared of something I might do…. Sam realised as he heard movement behind him.
Glancing over he watched as Dean trudged over in shorts and a t-shirt and flopped down beside him in the sand.
" Thought you didn't do shorts..?" Sam said with a smile.
" Thought your didn't do midnight walkabouts by yourself…" Dean said trying to keep the scolding out of his voice. " I thought we talked about this Sammy, you don't take off without asking me…"
Sam's eyes narrowed.
" You were asleep…" Sam pointed out, " Besides Dean, I'm twenty-three not three…"
" Don't argue with me.." Dean said with a cheeky grin, " Besides, I have a right to ask…"
" You mean panic..?" Sam muttered, which earned him a dirty look from his elder brother.
" You sneak out the house and draw a line of salt around my bedroom door.." Dean pointed out as he plunked aimlessly at the blades of grass, " And what, you expect me not to question you at all…?"
" It was nothing…" Sam said with a shrug, " I was just being over protective…"
" Yeah well, I can look after myself…" Dean said with a sniff," If anyone needs to have a ring of salt around them, it's you…"
" Oh right, why don't you just embalm me in the stuff Dean…" Sam said as he allowed his legs to drop to the side.
In the darkness he never saw the look that crossed his brother's face. Sam however noticed the silence.
" Dude it was a joke…" Sam said slowly standing up and brushing the sand off his backside. " You know, ha ha…"
Dean slowly stood up, the sudden sickening feeling not shaking from his stomach. Sam stared at him strangely.
" You ok..?" Sam asked as Dean turned back towards the house.
" You know nothing can get into the beach house, Sam…" Dean muttered trudging off into the direction of their current home. " Not with the amount of talismans we have around the place…"
Sam walked behind his brother quietly, his mind busy.
It was now official.
Dean Winchester's behaviour had just surpassed odd. It was now into the section of just plain weird.
xxxxXXXXxxxx
Sam watched as Dean shuffled into his room, muttering something under his breath about the salt and quietly closed his bedroom door.
After returning the loaded shot gun back to its new home by the front door, and without Dean knowing, re-salting the entrance to his brother's room, Sam retreated back to his own room.
Sitting on the bed, he closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath; he could feel the headache trying to push its evil way through to the surface. Deciding that prevention was better than cure; Sam firstly snapped on his bed side light and then leaned across his bed and opened his bed side draw. Inside, he took out a small yellow bottle, removed the cap off it and tipped out two of the little blue pills. Picking up the glass of water by his bedside, he downed the pills and tossed the bottle back into the draw. Hopefully, they'd take effect and block out the pain, after all that was the job of painkillers, to kill pain.
Sighing, he switched the light back off and lay on his side, wondering about Dean's behaviour. Something was very odd about Dean.
His last thought before he entered the domain of sleep was that of Dean's reaction to his joke about the embalmment, and the rather stifling silence that had followed from his brother...
xxxxXXXXxxxx
Sam Winchester's eyes snapped open.
He could feel the stifling sense that someone was watching him, watching him sleep.
Sitting up rapidly, his tired eyes became alert as he hurriedly scanned the room for the intruder.
He couldn't see it, but he knew it was there, he could sense its eyes borating into his soul.
Steadily, Sam got up and suddenly found his body unwilling to co-operate. In a heap, Sam found himself clinging onto the bed, frightened to why his legs would refuse to stand.
Forcing himself with every ounce of strength he had, he grabbed the head board of his bed and strained himself to stand up. His legs shaking, his breathing laboured, he realised that whatever was in the room with him had left.
Sighing out loud, Sam slowly headed for the bathroom, suddenly anywhere seemed like a better idea than his bedroom.
Opening his bedroom door silently, he slipped out as quietly as he could, but as Sam was beginning to realise, he was finding it increasingly hard to stay upright. Leaning heavily against the wall, Sam's eyes protectively fell to Dean's room on the other side of the living room.
At least the line of salt still remained in place.
...No he needs rest... Sam thought, as he decided to let his elder brother sleep instead of disturbing him with even more nonsense.
Sam wondered into the bathroom, and switched the light on. Walking slowly towards the sink, he tiredly turned the cold tap on and watched the water run steadily into the sink hole. Finally tucking his hands under the taps he slowly splashed the icy water onto his face, hoping that the harsh feeling of the water would help clear his foggy head.
Raising his head slowly, he locked eyes with his reflection in the small medicine cabinet.
In the mirror, Sam winced at the person staring back at him; it didn't even resemble Sam. The person in the mirror looked exhausted, weak, and extremely thin. Sam sighed, he'd lost a hell of a lot of weight and the weakness that seemed to be crippling his body was refusing to leave. Dean had told him he had to take it easy and give it time for his body to start to recover; however Sam had had no idea that after almost two weeks he'd still be feeling as terrible as he did.
Closing his shattered eyes Sam inhaled deeply trying to steady his constantly fraying nerves. Opening his eyes and staring at his reflection, a gasp had barely left Sam's mouth before he turned around.
They were another set of eyes staring at him through the mirror.
Shaking vigorously, the owner of the eyes stared a hole through him, scaring him to the very pit of his stomach.
Its dark crimson eyes stared at Sam, its black fog-like body wafted around the bathroom angrily, sinister and determined.
Sam stared, no words leaving his mouth, he was stranded, his voice deceiving him, too stunned to call for any help.
" He's the key..." The spirit whispered, its evil black form dancing seductively around Sam. Sam could feel the spirit brushing against him as it wafted around the bathroom.
" He's the key to you..." The spirit hissed in Sam's ear.
Everything suddenly became clear to Sam. The dreams, the feelings, the warning; they'd all been real.
Every single one of them.
Before his hands could even move towards the door to try to get to Dean, Sam felt a bright light explode behind his right eye.
Then everything faded into an inky black...
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And so the rollercoaster begins again. Hope you enjoyed the opening to the story and stick around to see what happens to the boys. Please read and review ! Next update should be Sunday, life and net allowing. Xxx