Chapter One: Here It Goes Again
A/N: I don't own these guys. But if I did, I would die a happy, happy girl. Slightly AU-ish. Just the guys doing what they do best. :D
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The door of the tiny cabin swung open, immediately assaulting the noses of its two new occupants with the scent of sexual escapades and drunken parties of years past; a musty, unsettling smell that no amount of cleaning or air freshener could overcome. The first figure to enter fumbled blindly for a nearby light switch, while the second, still outside in the pouring rain, nudged him and grumbled.
"You counting on me to catch pneumonia, here, Sammy?"
Another nudge, this time from a heavy duffel bag rather than an elbow. The first figure, caught off guard by the weight, stumbled and caught himself on the edge of a table near the door. Wheeling around to face Dean and nearly losing his balance again thanks to his own heavy bag, Sam glowered at his brother. Both were soaked through to the bone, and both were irritated and on edge after having been in the car for several hours. After a brief but intense staring contest, Dean grinned and shrugged his shoulders a little, and Sam shook his head and turned away, continuing his blind search for the light switch. Lightning suddenly filled the room, and out of the corner of one eye, Sam saw the switch, and reached out to flip it. A pause followed, and finally, with an aggravated buzz, the overhead light flickered to life.
After Dean had closed the door, both Winchesters took a moment to survey their temporary accommodations. Both found themselves torn between relief at finally being out of the car, and disgust at the sight of the place. The room was damp, dingy and smoke-stained; and it bore only a few pieces of furniture, and so despite its small size, appeared much larger. There were two beds with ugly, ancient-looking floral comforters draped across them, and as Dean plopped himself and his luggage onto the end of one, a grand cloud of dust rocketed upwards. After a brief fit of sneezing, Dean shook his head to clear it and jerked a thumb in the direction of the far-from-modern television.
"That dinosaur had better have some really great porno stations, dude, or
we are so outta here."
Sam sighed and shook his head again, tossing his bags on the floor next to his bed. Dean cocked a brow.
"What?"
Eyeing his brother with some amusement, Sam, for once, found himself enjoying the task of bearing bad news.
"Dean, we're in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. We'll be lucky to get any reception at all. Besides, we're here on a hunt; we don't have time for that now."
Dean's cocky grin quickly faded, and when he caught a glimpse of Sam trying to hide a smile, he mumbled, "Porno Nazi…"
Sam glared at Dean momentarily, and then reached for his laptop, hoping to quickly change the subject. Dean took the opportunity to grab at the remote that was nearly buried in a mound of dust on the nightstand, and flipped on the television. When he was greeted by a barrage of static on every channel, he cursed under his breath, and switched it off, tossing the remote behind him onto the bed. Folding his arms and scowling, Dean stared in irritation at the blank set. After his laptop had booted up, Sam turned his gaze to his sulking brother.
"Now that you've got that out of your system, can we get down to business?"
After some more mumbled protest, Dean nodded. Sam rolled his eyes, then returned them to the text before him.
"So, we've got this tape that supposedly kills you one week after you watch it. A journalist, Rachel Keller, was stationed here in Seattle and seemed to have found a way to survive it, but apparently the spirit behind the tape followed her all the way to Astoria-"
"Where?"
"-Oregon, Dean." Sam shook his head, but Dean just grinned.
"Right. I knew that. Carry on."
" I guess the spirit tried to get at her kid… She says she destroyed the tape and sent the spirit back to whatever hole she crawled out of, but the tape just randomly showed up again. She contacted a hunter, who called Bobby, who called us."
"Great," replied Dean, "but we have no leads. We don't know how this tape kills them, so we can't hit up a local morgue. So where do we start?"
Sam opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off by a sudden clap of thunder. The door to the cabin abruptly swung open, and a pair of silhouettes stood in the doorway, framed by lightning and rain. Dean scrambled for the gun in his belt, but hesitated when he heard a female voice.
"Did I miss anything?"
Sam scrunched his nose and squinted, trying to see through the gloom to study the two intruders. When he realized that he recognized them, he laid a hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean relaxed and arched a brow at Sam. Sam shook his head and slowly got to his feet, taking a couple of steps toward the door.
"You're Rachel Keller, aren't you?"
Slowly, the two stepped into the room, and into the light, and Dean's questioning look melted into a characteristic grin when he caught sight of the blonde reporter. He, too, rose and stepped forward, but his grin faded a little when he caught sight of the second figure; a small, frail boy who couldn't have been much older than twelve.
"Yeah, that's me… And this is my son, Aidan. Look, I'm sorry to just drop in on you like this, but your friend told me you'd be here… I didn't feel comfortable discussing any of this on the phone. I wasn't sure if you knew what you were really getting into."
The two brothers glanced at each other and chuckled dryly before turning to look at Rachel and Aidan. Dean was the first to speak up.
"Lady, we've seen some pretty crazy sh-"
Sam lashed out with an elbow and jammed it into Dean's ribcage. Dean grabbed at his side and glared knives and daggers at his brother, but kept his mouth shut. Rachel reached behind her to close the door, glancing around at the shabby cabin. Once the door was closed, Sam spoke again.
"I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean."
Dean raised the hand that wasn't rubbing his aching side to give an irritated half-wave.
"I'd say that it's nice to meet you, but considering the circumstances.. well.."
Sam nodded and smiled in response, and Rachel returned the smile, albeit nervously.
"Oh, uh.. Come in, sit." Sam pointed at a pair of chairs parallel to the beds, and Rachel and Aidan slowly seated themselves. Aidan studied the two brothers with mild disinterest before shifting his gaze to the carpet, and Rachel seemed to be gathering her thoughts; readying herself to tell a story that Sam could tell would be a lengthy one. Sam and Dean both reclaimed their seats on the beds, and settled in, waiting. Finally, Rachel took a deep breath, and began to speak, pleadingly.
"Look, I know you're trying to figure out a way to solve this thing, but I want to warn you. If you watch this tape, you will die."
Both boys exchanged, for once, a nervous glance.
"But you've watched it, and you're still here, lady."
Rachel turned her gaze to Dean, and nodded slowly.
"Yes, that's true. I found out that to survive, you've got to make a copy and show it to someone, but-"
"Right, so, I'm not getting the big deal, here. Just spread the word about making a copy, and everything ought to work itself out. No biggie." Dean shrugged and leaned back.
"But," Rachel continued, her face a perfect picture of fear, "I'm afraid she's gotten stronger… Making copies might not work anymore…"
Sam leaned forward, curious, and reached out to lay a hand on Rachel's shoulder. She jumped, and raised wide blue eyes to meet his. Sam cocked his head questioningly, and asked quietly, "Who is 'she'…?"
Rachel closed her eyes, and it appeared that she was having a difficult time gathering her thoughts and composure. Dean, concerned and interested, leaned forward, still hanging on Rachel's every word. Time seemed to stand still for the Winchesters, and after what seemed an eternity, Rachel opened her mouth to speak. Dean leaned forward so he could hear; now teetering on the edge of the bed.
A brilliant flash of lightning filled the room, followed by a deafening roar of thunder. Dean toppled forward in surprise, and the lights flickered around them for a moment before completely giving up, shrouding the four of them in darkness. There was a heavy thud as Dean unceremoniously face planted on the carpet, and a gasp from Aidan. He groped for his mother's hand in the darkness, and clutched it tightly. Sam fumbled in his pocket for a keychain flashlight, and after fishing it out, shone it upon his brother. Dean sat up slowly, rubbing his right cheek. Sam snorted.
"That was graceful."
"Dude… Shut up."
Sam turned the beam towards Rachel and her terrified son.
"You two okay?"
Both nodded slowly.
"Okay, ominous foreshadowing aside… Who is 'she'," Dean asked suddenly; blessedly breaking the eerie silence.
Rachel swallowed, and then answered quietly.
"Her name is Samara Morgan."
Another sudden flash of lightning, and shortly after, a wave of thunder shook the foundation of the shoddy cabin.
After another brief period of silence, Dean spoke up again.
"Anybody else think that's really freakin' creepy?"
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