Sammy
By: Alison Moran
"Sammy! Sammy!" Dean Winchester called banging on the locked door that kept the dirty blonde man from his brunette younger brother.
"D-Dean…" replied the brown haired man. The 25-year-old sounded in pain and weak.
Dean pounded on the old wooden door. "No! No, Sammy!" tears welled up in royal blue eyes. Anger settled over the sadness. White, hot anger that turned his vision red. He turned away from his obstacle, trying not to think of what was happening to his brother behind the wooden door, and looked up, blue eyes searching for something he couldn't see. "Ghost! You hear me! If anything happens to my brother you're gonna regret it!" he yelled into empty space.
The ghost of Joshua Donaldson flickered to life in front of the other door in that room, a snarl on his once handsome face. "What will you do? I'm already dead." He said in a deadpan voice.
Dean held up an iron rod and a salt shaker. "Torture. As best as I can. You'll pay for hurting my brother." Dean snarled, swinging the iron rod around in his hand. In his head, Dean sent up a prayer to the only angels he knew he could trust with his brother's life.
Castiel, Gabriel, Balthazar, if you can hear me, please, save my brother. I don't care what happens to me, please, just take care of Sammy.
Then, the dirty blonde male swung the iron rod at the ghost of Joshua Donaldson and the ghost disappeared with a groan.
Moments later, Dean swung around looking for the ghost's reappearing spot. "That was a dirty trick, Winchester." Echoed Joshua's voice.
Instinct told Dean to duck, and he always trusted his instinct, so he ducked.
Joshua's hand struck air where Dean's head had been seconds before and Dean bared his sharp teeth in a feral type of grin, holding up an old golden locket.
The ghost backed up a step with a gasp. "Where did you get that?" Joshua hissed.
"Your girlfriend gave it to me. Sweet girl, she told me to give it to you if I found you alive, but since you're not alive, I guess I'll just blow it sky high." Dean promised, malice in his voice as he put the charm on the barrel of his gun and wrapping a finger around the trigger.
"No!"
"You open that door. You open it now." Dean growled in a voice that held venom. "Or I'll put a bullet through the locket."
A snap of the fingers and a soft click. "The door is open. Give me the locket."
Dean gave him a lopsided smirk. "Sorry man, but I don't believe you." Click went the trigger. Bang went the gun. "Ah!" screamed Joshua Donaldson as his ghost went up in flames.
The second Joshua was gone, Dean dropped the broken locket and holstered his gun, then ran for the locked wooden door.
"Sammy?" Dean asked, trying the door to find it looked. "Sammy, are you okay?"
Damn it! Answer me Sam! Dean pleaded in his head.
With a soft click, the door creaked open suddenly. "Sam?"
"He's okay, just bruised a bit." Responded the thick voice of the Archangel Gabriel.
"Gabriel?" Dean asked in surprise.
"You asked for us by name, Dean," said the drawling voice of Castiel as the angel appeared behind him. "There was no way we would ignore your pleads."
"Especially when you were so desperate." The Scottish accented voice of Balthazar grinned.
Dean smiled as he kneeled next to Sam. "How is he?" he asked the golden haired man tending to his brother.
Gabriel sighed. "He was torn up by that soul. Very well done, I must say." He replied. "But, thanks to angel powers, I was able to patch him up while you took care of the ghost." A smirk lit up the angel's face.
"Thank you, Gabriel." Dean said sincerely, pulling the sleeping brunette man into his arms and standing. "Thanks to all of you." He added, looking at Castiel and Balthazar too.
A nod from each of the angels. "Want a ride home?" Balthazar asked.
Dean shook his head. "Not unless you can get my car back too."
"Done." Balthazar smiled, raising a hand.
"And Done." Gabriel added, clicking his fingers together.
"I'll be by later to check on Sam's condition." Castiel promised before everything went dark at the click of Balthazar's fingers.
Dean sighed as he opened his eyes to the crappy motel he and Sam where staying in. "Thank you, angel voodoo." He said to himself, laying Sam out on one of the beds.
He sighed in relief as he stretched out on the other bed. "Today sucked." He mumbled, drifting off. "But at least, Sammy's okay." And with that thought he fell into the comforting embrace of sleep.