A/N: Ok. As promised, here's the follow-up to my double drabble "Unprepared." I even used the drabble word "spent" in it. It was a very cruel place to end a story. I'll try not to do that again. :D
One day Bobby would finally follow through on his plan. Never answer the phone. Ever. Especially if there was a Winchester on the other end. That always spelled trouble. But in his heart he knew that was impossible. Those boys were like his own kin. They may be trouble, but they were worth it. The current round of trouble was supposed to be a simple angry spirit. When did an angry spirit become a simple hunt? When the damn demons opened the gate and invited several hundred of their friends to crash the party.
He was supposed to meet Dean and Sam at a house where several deaths occurred. They promised to wait outside for him. He had a funny feeling that there was more to this case than they'd found so far. They already knew the basics. The spirit usually killed at night, but liked to toy with her victims throughout the day. It was what the bastards who'd broken in had done to her, kept her in pain for hours until they got bored and tried to make it look like a suicide. Up to this point, she'd killed three people, all men, each living alone in the house. They were found hanging from the fan in the living room, obvious signs of torture on their body. But Bobby found more, stuff not on the official police reports.
He tried to call Dean and warn him. Neither of them were answering their phones, which meant only one thing. They broke their promise, went inside, and were in more trouble than they could handle. He was still an hour away and spent the entire drive trying to reach them, hoping against hope there was another reason both boys weren't answering. What he found when he arrived dashed such foolish hopes.
The Impala was out front, engine cold, neither Winchester inside. The curtains were drawn and the house quiet, no chance to size up the situation before going in. If he couldn't sneak in, he'd burst in, using the element of surprise. But the surprise was on him. In the living room, standing on a chair below the ceiling fan, rope noosed around his neck, was Dean. He was battered and bloody, not able to move an inch. His eyes showed fear, then relief when he realized that it was Bobby standing in the door.
"Bobby! You have to help Sammy! She's got him in the closet. He stopped making any noise about an ten minutes ago. She said she'd take his breath away. You gotta save him first."
No sooner had the words left his lips than the chair was pulled out from under him. Bobby wanted to rush to Dean and free him from the rope, but knew the boy would push him away. His mind raced for a way to go to Sam without sacrificing Dean. When the solution became obvious, he promised to berate himself later for not thinking of it immediately, after they took care of the problem. He pulled out his gun, took a couple of shots at the rope, and headed to the closet just to his left. As he opened the door, he was relieved to hear a loud thud and intake of air. Dean was safe for now. He could focus on Sam.
If what he'd found in his search was true, he feared for the youngest Winchester. What all of the reports failed to mention were that there were two girls who died, twin sisters named Susan and Karin. Both were severely beaten, to the point those injuries could've killed the girls on their own. The two men, convicts who'd escaped from the nearby prison, told the cops how they'd suffocated the one girl while making the other one watch. Then they got their jollies letting her come close to death several times before finally killing her.
He found Sam in a heap on the floor of the closet, a coat tightly wrapped around his head. "Sam?" There was no response. Bobby pulled him from the closet, removed the coat, and prayed to whoever might listen that Sam was alive. He found a pulse, but the boy wasn't breathing. "Sam, don't you do this!" Movement right behind him startled him until he realized it was Dean coming to check on his brother.
"Bobby? What's wrong?"
"He's got a pulse, but he ain't breathing. We gotta do CPR."
"I'll do it. You keep an eye out for that bitch." Bobby didn't like how weak Dean sounded. He didn't look much better than he sounded. "She's determined to finish both of us."
Bobby, alert for another appearance of the ghosts, figured he'd fill them in on the details after they got out of the house, all of them. He listened as Dean tried to resuscitate Sam, muttering "Come on, Sammy" and "Breathe, damn it" between breaths. The choked sounds of Sam finally breathing on his own was sweet music to his ears. Even better was the quiet "Dean?"
"Yeah, Sammy. I'm here."
"You ok?"
"Yeah. I'm fine."
"How? Karin told me she had the noose around your neck and was just waiting for me to die to finish you."
"Karin? I thought the girl's name was Susan?"
"There are two spirits here. She told me. Susan and Karin were twins. They both died here that night. How did you get loose?"
Guess that saved me one conversation.
"Lucky for us, Bobby showed up in the nick of time."
"Bobby? Sorry we didn't wait outside like we promised. Dean wanted to scope the place out while it was safe."
"Hey! This is NOT my fault."
"You two chuckleheads can argue blame later. Right now I'd like to get us out of here in one piece. Can you walk?"
They both responded with an apologetic, "Yes sir," and shakily stood to leave, leaning on each other to walk.
Bobby would come back later to retrieve the weapons and finish the job. For now, he needed to get them out, tend to their wounds, and rip them a new one for going in without him. Three steps out the door and Dean's energy reserves gave out, nearly taking them both to the ground.
"Damn it, Dean. You said you were ok? You can barely walk!"
"I'm mostly ok. At least I didn't stop breathing. Well, mostly."
"What do you mean mostly!?! How do you 'mostly' not stop breathing?"
Watching them stumble to the Impala, listening to them bicker, he decided the reprimand could wait.
A/N: I know next to nothing about firearms, so if what Bobby did to save Dean was impossible, I apologize. Also, the next chapter of "Monophobia" should be up shortly after this Sunday's drabbles.