Lost in Translation
Summary: What's dead, should stay dead… but what if you're a Winchester? Set in Season 12.
Rated: T for Violence, injuries, and adult language.
A/N: This idea came to me after reading an article online about scary stories based from the Appalachian Mountains. Some I've heard of and others were new. This is my first time delving into the fanfiction community. I've been reading fanfiction for years, but it never occurred to me to ever write one. Anyways, enjoy this little story. Please review!
-SPN-
Chapter 1
Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Don't look back! NOW, DEAN, GO! He jerked awake, not sure what brought on the memory, but suddenly his body tensed and was overcome with a deep all-encompassing feeling of dread. He had to find his boys. The last memory he had was the hunt in Townsend, Tennessee. Sam was hurt and Dean was missing. The potential lead for the demon was more complicated than originally planned and quickly went downhill. Multiple sightings of a man, his face and body badly burned, eyes starring and vacant, and multiple families burning alive in their homes brought the Winchesters to the Appalachian Mountains.
No cattle deaths, electrical storms, or any of the standard signs of demonic activity was present, but the similarities couldn't be ignored. After days of research and multiple interviews with the witnesses, it was obvious that this wasn't the demon that killed his Mary. The Winchesters quickly narrowed down the creature to the ghost of one of the burn victims. But it wasn't the ghost that hurt his family, it was a good ole Tennessean snow storm. It came hard, fast, and unexpected. The weather station they watched before heading out never once mentioned the possibility of inclement weather.
The night began as any other hunt. Sam was doing last minute research, making sure all their I's were dotted and t's were crossed. Dean checked his gun for the third time and double checked his and Sammy's bags. He would sporadically throw an affectionate insult at his younger brother and get the "bitch face" in return. Dean's eyes would crinkle and shine with amusement at his little brother's expense.
"Come on Sammy, that joke never gets old," Dean paused. "But your haircut does. 'Bout time for your annual trip to the salon." His laughter was cut off by John's gruff reprimand, "Boys, get focused on the hunt or you'll have more than a pissed off ghost to deal with." Sam and Dean's faces immediately took on solemn and serious expressions, but John still didn't miss the quick look Sam threw at his older brother's back. If looks could kill… Sam quickly went back to his book on Appalachian lore.
John's attention strayed to his youngest. Lately, Sammy was questioning more and listening less. Demanding to know why they couldn't live normal lives and be like all the other kids. He just didn't understand. How could he? He never knew his mother; he was only six months old when she died. Violently ripped away from a happy life filled with love and laughter. But it was different for him and Dean. They had memories, real memories that even fire couldn't burn away and destroy. Sam's memory of his mother was nonexistent and based off stories and pictures. He just couldn't understand how the kid worked, he was a lot like Mary that way; head strong and independent. His thoughts drifted away from his son and dead wife and focused on the hunt.
Moments later they all piled into the Impala and headed for to the last reported sighting of the "Burning Man". They parked and slowly exited the car, the temperature had obviously dropped since leaving the motel. Three miles into their five-mile hike Sam finally spoke, "Dad, did the weather channel mention anything about snow? I thought I spotted some stratus clouds through the trees."
Dean snickered, "Stratus clouds? Nice, did you learn that in science class geek boy?" Dean ruffled Sam hair as he walked passed his glaring brother. "No Dean, it's actually common knowledge if you actually read a book every now and then. And no, Busty Asian Beauties don't count." Sam smirked when Dean rolled his eyes.
"Cut it out boys, and no, the weather channel didn't say a damned thing. Not a damned thing", his last muttered reply was lost on deaf ear when Sam suddenly screamed for his brother.
"Dean! Dad, where did he go?! He was just here." Sam frantically searched through the trees but his efforts were for naught when a steady amount of snowfall obscured his field of vision. Sam yelled out in pain when his frantic search for his brother caused him to trip over a root.
"Sammy! You okay, son?" his heart wrenched at the thought of a lost son and one that was injured. "Shit, shit, shit! Dad, I think I broke my wrist." Sam's pained expression and wavering voice made the injury obvious. "Dean's gone! We have to find him. Anything could've happened to him."
"Sam, calm down. We'll find your brother. That's a promise I'll always keep." Sam's forehead was pinched with worry. A constant reminder of the dangerous life these three led. It would all be worth it when the demon that killed his wife was dead. The demon that destroyed his little slice of heaven; his home.
His thoughts were interrupted by a scream. He looked around, instantly on guard and ready for whatever came at him and his injured Sammy. Suddenly a white hot pained shot through his head, bringing him to his knees. He looked around for his youngest, but he was gone. Disappearing just like his brother; gone without a trace. His last coherent thought was that they never should've taken this hunt.
-SPN-
He slowly got to his knees and looked around. He wasn't in Townsend and these definitely weren't his stiff and frozen clothes from the hunt. He recognized this place. He didn't know how, but he did. It suddenly occurred to him that this was home. The onslaught of memories caused a deep ache to resonate through his whole body. This used to be his home, but not anymore. His home was his boys. Two boys that were currently missing and possibly seriously injured. He wasn't in Townsend anymore, but he was definitely in Kansas. Lawrence, Kansas. Where it all started and ended.
TBC