Title: When did I become so weak?
Author: T (for violence, torture and some cursing)
Summary: Sam and Dean go on a visit to Salem, Massachusetts in search of a job. They find nothing at first, but they soon realize the one they do find might just be the last one they ever go on. Hurt, Protective Sam. Hurt Protective Dean! Lots of chick flicky angsty moments PLEASE R&R!!
Disclaimer: I do not own ANYTHING that has to do with supernatural!
Sam Winchester was sitting on yet another bed in yet another grungy motel room, flipping through channels on TV. Dean was a across the room flipping through a local newspaper looking for a job.
"Ya find anything?" Sam said not looking up from the TV.
"Does it look like I found anything?" Dean snapped back, annoyed that this was the seventh time Sam had asked in the last twenty minutes. "What is it? Why do you keep asking me?"
"Sorry, I'm just dying to get out of this nasty room. This has got to be the worst one we've stayed in," Sam said taking his glare from the TV to Dean.
The carpet was a repulsive shade of puke green that had been flattened to the point where it was rough and harder than wood. The wallpaper was pealing and stained and the ceiling was leaking. Worst of all the entire room smelt like it had recently been flooded.
"Yeah well, suck it up Sammy. We're looking for a job here where I know we can find one,"
"How do you know we're gonna find one here? We've been looking for a job for four days and still nothing." Sam said now sitting up in his bed instead of slumping back on the headboard.
"Come on Sammy this is Salem, Massachusetts, there's gotta be something here," Dean said trying to reason with him.
"Fine." Sam whispered. He got up from the bed and walked about four feet in the crammed room before reaching the bathroom. He slid in the door, closing and locking it behind him. The grout in the tiles was browning and there was very little light provided by the small light bulb in the corner of the room.
The bathtub was dirty, he could tell just by glancing at it, so he decided to take a shower instead of a relaxing bath he had originally planned. It took a few seconds after he turned on water for it to get hot, and then he spun the other knob for the shower to come on.
Just then Sam felt an all too familiar pain in his head. When the mind splitting pain began to hitch he reached up for his head and collapsed to the floor. The pain had never been this bad before. And just then…
There was a dark room that looked like it was falling apart, The walls were covered with wooden paneling that was rotting, debris was scattered through out the entire room and the windows were boarded shut. But that was barely noticeable compared to the numerous bodies hanging from the ceiling. And there was Dean. Standing on a stool with a rope around his neck. His hands were tied behind his back and his mouth gagged. He looked like he had recently been run over by a truck. The corners of his mouth were bleeding, as was his nose. He had some cuts on his arms but the weirdest thing was the crimson stain on his left thigh. It was in the shape of handprint. Next to him stood a ghostly pale woman wearing a white corset and a long white skirt. From each finger a drop of blood fell every so often.
"Samuel Wilson. You are being put to death for the death of Emma Smith. What do you have to say for yourself?" the woman's voice boomed throughout the entire room. Of course the gag prevented Dean from saying anything. All he was able to do was look at her through pain filled eyes. "That's what I thought. Nothing."
In that instant she suddenly flew underneath Dean knocking the stool out from under him. His body slumped down, and after struggling for about twenty seconds he was dead.
Suddenly the vision ended, but the pain did not cease. Sam squirmed on the floor gripping his head as hard as he could as if it would make the pain stop.
"Sam?" Dean called out as soon as he heard a loud thump coming from the bathroom. When no one responded Dean instantly became worried. "Sam?" he yelled out again. He slowly got up from his chair and walked towards the door. He knocked quietly and repeated himself and then heard Sam moan loudly and then another loud thump.
Sam. Dean automatically thought, now extremely worried. He tried to open the door but it was locked. Instead of breaking the door down he tried a less messy way and quickly pulled out his pocketknife. He put it in the lock and turned it, which opened the door. He flew in and gasped when he saw his brother lying unconscious on the floor.
Dean threw himself to his brothers side and almost fainted himself when he didn't see his brothers chest rise or fall. Then it hit him. Sam wasn't breathing.
TBC